The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• Introduction
• A Note On the Text
• Acknowledgments
• The Principles of Moral Philosophy
• The Epistle Dedicatory
• Preface
• Part I
• Introduction<1>
• Chapter I
• Chapter Ii
• Chapter Iii
• Chapter Iv
• Chapter V
• Chapter Vi
• Chapter Vii
• Chapter Viii
• Chapter Ix
• Part Ii
• Introduction
• Chapter I
• Chapter Ii
• Chapter Iii
• Chapter Iv
• Conclusion
• Advertisement

PART I

Human Nature and the ways of God to man vindicated, by delineating the general laws to which the principal phenomena in the human system are reducible, and shewing them to be wise and good.

• Remember man, the universal cause,
• Acts not by partial but by gen’ral laws;
• And makes what happiness we justly call,
• Subsist, not in the good of one, but all.
• There’s not a blessing individuals find,
• But some way leans and hearken to the kind.

• Essay on man, Ep. 4.20

Introduction<1>

Natural philosophy distinguish’d from moral.Every one who knows what natural philosophy is, or how it proceeds in its enquiries will easily conceive what moral philosophy must mean; and how it likewise ought to be pursued: for all enquiries into fact, reality, or any part of nature must be set about, and carried on in the same way; and an enquiry into human nature is as much an enquiry into fact, as any question about the frame and texture (for instance) of any plant, or of the human body.<2>

But both are enquiries into fact or nature.The objects of science are justly divided into corporeal, or sensible ones; and those which not being perceived by the outward senses, but by reflexion on the mind itself and its inward operations, are therefore called intellectual or moral objects. Hence the consideration of the former is stiled Physiology, or Natural philosophy; and that of the other is called Rational, or Moral philosophy. But however philosophy may be divided; nothing can be more evident, than, that the study of nature, whether in the constitution and oeconomy of the sensible world, or in the frame and government of the moral, must set out from the same first principles, and be carried on in the same method of investigation, induction, and reasoning; since both are enquiries into facts or real constitutions.

Natural philosophy described.What is natural philosophy, how is it defined? or, how are its researches carried on? By it is understood an enquiry into the sensible world: that is “into the general laws, according to which its appearances are produced; and into the beauty, order, and good which these general laws produce .”The principles it presupposes and proceeds upon in its enquiries. And therefore in such an enquiry the following maxims are justly laid down as the foundations on which all its reasonings are built; or as the first principles from which all its conclusions are inferred; and without supposing which it cannot proceed one step.

First principle.I. That if the corporeal world be not governed by general laws, it cannot be the object of enquiry or science; and far less of imitation by arts, since imitation necessarily presupposes knowledge of the object imitated; and science presupposes a certain determinate object; or fixed ascertainable relations and connexions of things. Upon the contrary supposition the corporeal world must be absolutely unintelligible. Nature, in order to be understood by us, must always speak the same language to us: it<3> must therefore steadily observe the same general laws in its operations, or work uniformly and according to stated, invariable methods and rules. Those terms, order, beauty, general good, and a whole, which are too familiar to philosophers, to need any definition, or explication, plainly include in their meaning, analogy and constancy; uniformity amidst variety; or in other words, the regular observance of general, settled laws in the make and oeconomy, production and operations, or effects of any object to which they are ascribed. Wherever order, fixed connexions, or general laws and unity of design take place, there is certainty in the nature of such objects; and so far therefore knowledge may be acquired. But where these do not obtain, there can be nothing but unconnected independent parts; all must be confusion and disorder; and consequently such a loose disjointed heap of things must be an inexplicable chaos. In one word, science, prudence, government, imitation, and art, necessarily suppose the prevalence of general laws throughout all the objects in nature to which they reach. No being can know itself, project or pursue any scheme, or lay down any maxims for its conduct; but so far as its own constitution is certain; and the connexion of things relative to it are fixed and constant; for so far only, are things ascertainable; and therefore so far only, can rules be drawn from them.

“Nature’sa operating according to general laws (says a very ingenious philosopher ) is so necessary for letting us into the secret of nature, and for our guidance in the affairs of life, that without it, all reach and compass of thought, all human sagacity could serve to no manner of purpose: it were even impossible there should be any such faculties or powers in the mind. It is<4> this alone, gives us that foresight which enables us to regulate our actions for the benefit of life: and without this, we should be eternally at a loss; we could not know how to act any thing that might procure us the least pleasure, or save us from the least pain. That food nourishes, sleep refreshes, and fire warms us; that to sow in the seed-time, is the way to reap in harvest; that to give application is the way to improve and arrive at perfection in knowledge, or in any moral virtue; and in general, that to obtain such or such ends, such or such means are conducive; all this we know, and only can know, by the observation of the settled laws of nature, without which we should be all in uncertainty and confusion, and a grown man no more know how to manage himself in the affairs of life, than an infant just born.”

This first principle in natural philosophy, is therefore indisputable. “That without the prevalence of general laws there can be no order; and consequently no foresight, no science: and that as all appearances in the corporeal world, which are reducible to general laws are explicable, so such as are not, are utterly inexplicable.” Or in other words, “such effects as are not always produced in the same way and method, and have always the same consequences and influences, are quite anomalous; they cannot be reduced to any rule or order, and for that reason, no conclusion can be inferred from them.” ’Tis only connexions which take place constantly in the same invariable manner that are ascertainable; or that can lay a foundation for science Theoretical or Practical.

Second principle.II. Now those are justly called by philosophers, general laws in the sensible world. To which many effects are conformable. Or which, in other words, are observed to prevail and operate uniformly<5> in it; and regularly to produce like appearances. Thus, for instance, gravitation is concluded to be a general law throughout our mundan system, because all bodies are found to have gravity; not one body within the reach of our observation does not shew that quality: but even the most remote ones we are capable of observing, are found to operate according to it; that is, their appearances are reducible to it, as its natural and necessary effects.

This is very justly inferred, because to say, that analogous, or like appearances are not produced according to the same general law; or that they do not proceed from the same general principle, is indeed to say, that they are and are not analogous. Wherever we find analogy, or similarity of effects, there we find the same law prevailing; or so far do we find particular instances of the same property or law; or of the same method of production and operationa in nature. All this is really no more than asserting, for example, that whatever is produced conformably to a known principle, called gravity, is produced conformably to that principle. This second maxim in natural philosophy is therefore likewise indisputable.

“That those are general laws in a system, which prevail and operate uniformly in that system; or to which many effects in it are reducible and none are repugnant.” Or in other words, “those effects, however remote from us the objects are, to which they belong, may be justly attributed to that law or property, to which they are reducible, as its natural effects, that is known to be universal, so far as experience can reach;<6> for this very reason that such a known property being sufficient to produce them, is sufficient to account for them.”b

Third principle.III. But in the third place, “Those general laws of the corporeal world are good laws, which by their steady and uniform prevalency produce its good, beauty, and perfection in the whole.” Thus, for instance, gravitation must be a good general law in the sensible or material world, if its uniform operation be conducive to the greatest good, beauty, and perfection of that system. ’Tis needless to define terms to natural philosophers, which are so commonly used by them; and if these terms have any meaning, the following argument must hold good, “All the interests of intelligent beings require that general laws should prevail, so far as they are concerned; nay, without general laws, there could be no union, no general connexion, and consequently no general beauty, good, or perfection, but all must be tumult, incoherence, and disorder.” It is therefore absolutely good and fit, that general laws should take place; and those laws must be good in a system, which produce in the sum of things, the greater coherence, order, beauty, good, and perfection of that system.

Now from this it necessarily follows, that no particular effects, which flow from good general laws, can be evils absolutely considered, that is, with regard to the whole. No effect, for example, of gravitation can be evil, if gravitation be a good general law in the sense above explained.

General conclusion concerning natural philosophy.There is therefore a third maxim in philosophy, which is beyond all doubt. “That all the effects of general laws which are good with respect to a<7> whole, are good absolutely considered, or referred to that whole.”

Such effect as are reduced to general laws, are accounted for physically.We may then very justly conclude in general, that all effects or appearances in the natural world, are sufficiently explained and accounted for in natural philosophy, which are reduced to good general laws, as so many particular instances of their uniform operation; and that both physically and morally. They are sufficiently explained and accounted for in the physical sense, by being reduced to general laws: for what else is the physical knowledge of a fact in the sensible world, but the knowledge of an effect itself, in its progress, qualities, and influences: or in other words, the knowledge of the manner or order in which it is produced, and in which it operates on other things relating to it; the knowledge of the laws according to which it is produced, works, and is worked upon?

They are accounted for morally, if the laws they are reducible to be good.“All philosophers acknowledge (says an excellent one) that the first cause, or producer of the sensible world, must be a mind, whose will gives subsistence and efficacy to all its laws and connexions. The difference there is between natural philosophers and other men with regard to their knowledge of natural phenomena, consists not in an exacter knowledge of the efficient cause, that produces them; for that can be no other than the will of a spirit: but only in a greater largeness of comprehension whereby analogies, harmonies, and agreements are discovered in the works of nature and the particular effects are explained, that is, reduced to general laws.”

But it is needless to dwell longer on this conclusion, since in the language of all natural philosophers,a those effects are reckoned to be fully explained in the physical way, which are shown to be particular<8> instances of a general law that had been already inferred from a sufficient variety of fair and unexceptionable experiments: and those effects only are said to be unexplained, which are not yet reduced to any known law, or the law of which is not yet understood and ascertained.

Such effects are sufficiently explained, and accounted for morally, when they are reduced to general laws which are proved to be good in the whole; because they are thus shown to proceed from laws that are morally good and just.

Natural philosophy in accounting for final causes, coincides with moral philosophy.Tho’ phisiology be distinguished from moral philosophy, yet it was needless to suggest to any class of readers, before we used the words, beauty, order, good and perfection, that these are terms relative to beings capable of pleasure and pain, and of perceiving good order and beauty; or that laws cannot be said to be good or bad, right or wrong, beautiful or imperfect, but with respect to minds or perceiving beings: for pain or pleasure, good or ill, convenience or inconvenience, beauty or deformity, evidently presuppose perceptive faculties. On the one hand, an unperceiveable world cannot be the object of knowledge, or enjoyment of any kind; and, on the other, ’tis perceiving beings alone that can enjoy, or to whom existence can be happiness. But from this, it follows, that tho’ natural philosophy be commonly distinguished from moral; all the conclusions in natural philosophy, concerning the order, beauty, and perfection of the material world, belong properly to moral philosophy; being inferences that respect the contriver, maker, and governor of the world, and other moral beings capable of understanding its wise, good and beautiful administration, and of being variously affected by its laws and connexions.

In reality, when natural philosophy is carried so far as to reduce phenomena to good general laws, it becomes moral philosophy; and when it stops<9> short of this chief end of all enquiries into the sensible or material world, which is, to be satisfied with regard to the wisdom of its structure and oeconomy; it hardly deserves the name of philosophy in the sense of Socrates, Plato, Lord Verulam,21Boyle, Newton, and the other best moral or natural philosophers.a

Moral philosophy described.Having thus briefly shown what natural philosophy proposes to do, and upon what foundations it proceeds in establishing any conclusions; let us now see what moral philosophy must be. It is distinguished from phisiology, (as has been observed) because it enquires chiefly about objects not perceiveable by means of our outward organs of sense, but by internal feeling or experience; such as are all our moral powers and faculties, dispositions and affections, the power of comparing ideas, of reasoning or inferring consequences, the power of contracting habits, our sense of beauty and harmony, natural or moral, the desire of society, &c. Even these, however, may very properly be called parts of nature; and by whatever name, they, or the knowledge of them be called, ’tis obvious, that an enquiry about any of them, and the laws and connexions established by the author of nature, with regard to any of them, is as much a question of natural history or of fact, as an enquiry about any of our organs of sense, or about the constitution of any material object whatsoever, and the laws relating to it.It must presuppose and proceed upon the same principles. And therefore the same principles just mentioned as the foundation of all enquiries and reasonings in natural philosophy, must likewise take place, and be admitted in moral philosophy; that is, in all enquiries and reasonings concerning the human mind, its<10> powers, faculties, dispositions and affections, and the laws relative to them, as well as in all enquiries into the properties of a body.

For these principles are of an universal nature.In truth, these principles must necessarily take place in the explication of any piece of nature that can be understood or explained. They are principles of a general nature, which, if they be true in any case, must be universally true; and therefore they must be universally admitted, with regard to every constitution, system or whole, corporeal or incorporeal, natural or moral, that is, body or mind. Whence it results, that with respect to the human mind; to the frame of any mind whatsoever, or in general with respect to any moral system it must be true.a

First principle of moral philosophy.I. That unless it be so constituted and governed, that all the effects and appearances belonging to it, are the effects of general laws, it must be absolutely unintelligible; it must be complete confusion, irregularity and disorder; it cannot have a certain and determinate nature, but must be made up of disanalogous,<11> separate, incoherent parts, and operate in a desultory, inconstant manner: that is, it is not a whole; and cannot be the object of government or art, because it cannot be the object of knowledge: for all that can be known of it in such a case, is, that nothing can be ascertained about it; or that it is a Proteus, whose changes are without rule, and therefore are absolutely unascertainable.22

Second principle.II. Those must be received as general laws or principles in a moral frame or constitution, which are found by experience to operate uniformly or invariably in that system. Thus, for instance, that habits are contracted by repeated acts, may be justly said to be a general law in our frame, because this law has its effects uniformly and invariably in our natures; or many effects do evidently show a relation to that law as their common source and principle; and not one effect in human nature is repugnant to it; for, in like manner, is gravitation concluded to be a general law in the sensible world.

Third principle.III. Those must be good principles or laws in the constitution of a mind, or in any moral whole, which are conducive by their steady and uniform operation and prevalency to the greater good, beauty, and perfection of that whole in the sum of things. And therefore no effects which flow from such laws can be evils absolutely considered, or with respect to the whole. Thus the above-mentioned law of habits, must be a good general law in the constitution of the human mind, if its general tendency or influence be contributive to the greater good of the human mind in the sum of things; and no effects of that principle can be absolutely evil; because it is fit and good, that general laws should take place; and those must be good general laws, which are good in the whole, or conducive to the greater order, beauty, and perfection of a whole.<12>

Moral effects are sufficiently explained and accounted for physically and morally, by being reduced to good general laws.From all which it must necessarily follow, that all those effects, with regard to any moral constitution, are fully explained and accounted for physically and morally, which are reduced to such general laws as have been mentioned, as so many particular instances of their uniform and general prevalency.

To know any moral object physically, can be nothing else but to know what it is, and how it is constituted; or to know its parts, and those references of parts to one another, which make it a certain determinate whole, that works and is operated upon in certain determinable ways.

And to know the final cause, or moral fitness of any constitution, can be nothing else, but to know what good end in the sum of things, all its parts, and all their mutual respects, with all the laws and connexions relative to it, tend to produce. In fine, as different beings as a man and a tree are, yet the knowledge of man and the knowledge of a tree must mean the same kind of knowledge; in either case it is to know what the being is, and to what end it is adapted by its make and texture, and in consequence of the laws and connexions upon which it any wise depends.

Hence we see how moral philosophy ought to be pursued, and how it will stand on the same footing with natural philosophy.All this is too evident to be longer insisted upon. And what is the result of all that has been said? Is it not, that such moral appearances as are reducible to good general laws, will stand upon the same footing in moral philosophy, that those appearances in the natural world do in natural philosophy, which are reducible to good general laws? And that in order to bring moral philosophy, or the knowledge of the moral world, upon the same footing with natural philosophy, or the knowledge of the material world, as it now stands; we must enquire into moral phenomena, in the same manner as we do into physical ones: that is, we must endeavour to find out by experience the good general laws to<13> which they are reducible. For this must hold good in general, that so far as we are able to reduce appearances to a good general law, so far are we able to explain them or account for them. As phenomena which are not the effects of general laws, are in the nature of things absolutely unexplicable; so those which are, can only be explained by reducing them to the general laws of which they are the effects. “Explaining or accounting for phenomena can mean nothing else; it is not indeed now pretended by any philosopher to mean any thing else.”

A prejudice that may arise from treating natural philosophy in this manner removed.This conclusion manifestly ensues from what has been said. But lest any one should be startled at an attempt to treat effects in the same manner, which are evidently of so different natures, as corporeal and moral effects certainly are; or lest any one should have imagined that general laws can only take place with regard to matter and motion, and consequently, that an essay to explain moral appearances by general laws, must involve in it all the absurdity of an attempt to handle effects, which are not mechanical or material, as if they were such: to prevent all such objections, and to proceed more distinctly and surely in this essay, let us just observe here, that though no two things can be more different than a thinking being and a corporeal one; or than moral powers and operations are from passive unperceiving objects, and their qualities and effects; yet the exercises of all the moral powers, dispositions and affections of minds, as necessarily presuppose an established order of nature, or general laws settled by the Author of nature with respect to them; as the exercises of our bodily senses about qualities and effects of corporeal beings, do with regard to them.Moral powers and the exercises of moral powers, necessarily suppose and require general laws. As we could neither procure nor avoid, by our will and choice, any sensation of our sight, touch, or any other of our senses, had not nature established a certain order, with respect <14> to the succession or conveyance of our sensations, or the methods in which they are produced in us; so in like manner, we could neither acquire knowledge of any kind, contract habits, or attain to any moral perfection whatsoever; unless the Author of our nature had fixed and appointed certain laws relating to our moral powers, and their exercises and acquisitions. Being able to attain to science, to arts, to vertues, as necessarily presupposes a fixed and appointed road to virtue, &c. as being able to move our hands or limbs, does an established order of nature, with respect to these motions, and the sensations resulting from them, or attainable by them.

We are not more certain that we have sensations, than we are certain that we have power, or a sphere of activity.We are not more certain, that sensations are conveyed into or impressed upon our minds, by means of certain organs of sensation in a certain order, than we are sure that we have a certain extent of dominion, or a certain sphere of activity and power allotted to us by nature: that is to say, that certain effects, both in the corporeal and moral world, are made to depend, as to their existence or non-existence, upon our will, that they should exist or not exist. That we have such a power, both with regard to several actions of our body and of our mind, is plain matter of experience.

It is not disputed.There is indeed no dispute about this kind of liberty or dominion belonging to man: but how far it extends, is another question, to be considered afterwards. Now wherever this liberty or dominion obtains, or whatever are its bounds, however wide, or however narrow and stinted it may be, this is certain, that so far as it extends, it necessarily presupposes certain laws of nature relating to it; or to speak more properly, constituting it. For this is no more than saying, that did not fire gently warm and cruelly burn, according to certain fixed laws ascertainable by us, we could not know how to warm ourselves without burning: and by parity of<15> reason, were not knowledge, habits, and moral improvements, acquirable in a certain fixed way, we could not acquire them or attain to them.But power, and a sphere of activity, cannot take place but where general laws obtain. That is, we could have no liberty, no dominion, no sphere of activity or power, neither in the natural nor moral world: or in other words, either with regard to objects of sense, or moral objects, but upon supposition, that the natural and moral world are governed by general laws; or so far as they are so governed.

If it could be proved that we have no dominion, no power properly so called, assigned to us by nature, that would not prove us to be mere stocks, mere pieces of mechanism; since even upon that supposition, this essential difference would still remain between material objects and us, that we are conscious, whereas the latter are quite void of perception. But on the other hand, if we really have a certain sphere of activity, in the sense above defined (as we most certainly have to a very considerable extent) this sphere of activity must be allotted to us by our Maker; and it necessarily supposes, so far as it extends, a certain fixed dependance of objects upon our wills as to their existence or non-existence, conformably to which, and not otherwise, we may exercise that dominion.

Some remarks on the controversy about liberty and necessity.The question about liberty and necessity has been violently agitated among metaphysicians almost in all ages; but it no ways concerns this present enquiry, that I should enter any further into it than just to observe, 1. That whatever way it may be determined in abstract metaphysical speculation, this fact remains indisputable, that many objects depend upon our will, as to their existence or non-existence, many objects without the mind as well as in it. And all such objects are εϕ ημιν, that is, they are put by nature within our power, in any sense, that any thing can be said to be dependent on a being, within its power, or at its option and disposal.<16> Such ways of speaking are of universal use and extent: none are more such: but to say that such phrases, received in all languages, and universally understood, have no meaning at all, is to assert an absurdity no less gross than this; that men may discourse, hold correspondence, and be influenced and determined in their correspondence with one another, without understanding one another, without any ideas at all. Common language is built upon fact, or universal feeling. And every one understands what it is to be free, to have a thing in his power, at his command, or dependent upon him. It is only such philosophers, who seeking the knowledge of human nature, not from experience, but from I know not what subtle theories of their own invention, depart from common language, and therefore are not understood by others, and sadly perplex and involve themselves. But, which is more, nothing can be more certain than that pains and pleasures are the consequences of certain actions; may be foreseen by us; and may be avoided or obtained accordingly, as we act in such or such a manner. But if this fact, which is matter of universal experience, be admitted to be true, we are certainly in respect of all such pains and pleasures, free. That is, having, or not having them, depends absolutely on our exerting our selves to have them or not to have them, according to the connections of nature: so that, whether the constitution of nature be fortuitous, necessary, or the free choice of a free being, we are free, and have power; or our happiness and misery, as far as the connection of these with our actions reaches, totally depends upon ourselves. If a fact be certain, there is no reasoning against it; but every reasoning, however specious it may be, or rather, however subtle and confounding, if it be repugnant to fact, must be sophistical. And the fact just now mentioned is as<17> certain, as any matter of experience or consciousness can be.

2. Any reasoning from which it follows that men can neither deserve blame nor praise for their actions, and that it is needless for us to take care either to procure goods, or avoid evils, must be false; because it leads to a very absurd and fatal mistake in life and conduct. But truth cannot lead to absurdity or error. For this reason, such arguments were called by the antients λογοι αργοι,23ignavae rationesa Sophisms that lead to inaction : and they were justly reckoned absurd upon that account; absurd, because to follow them would be sure ruin. If certain pains and pleasures depend upon our manner of acting and exerting ourselves; upon our elections, determinations and pursuits; upon the exercises of our faculties, in consequence of certain fixed connections in nature between our actions and certain effects; then it is our business, because it is our interest, to endeavour to learn these connexions, and to act agreeably to them. And in like manner, if we are so made, that we cannot but approve some actions, and blame others in ourselves and other persons, then is it our proper business to maintain this natural sense of right and wrong, in a sound, uncorrupted state, and to judge<18> and act conformably to it. All principles and reasonings which have an opposite tendency, must be as false as they are pernicious. With respect to our natural disposition to approve or disapprove actions, or our sense of good and ill desert, it necessarily implies in it, or carries along with it, a persuasion of its being in the power of the person blamed or commended, to have done, or not done the action approved or disapproved: for in every instance, when we know a person could not help doing or not doing a thing, we can neither blame nor approve him. Now such a determination of our nature, which necessarily supposes certain actions to be in our power; were no actions really in our power, would be absurd and delusive; which there is no ground from the analogy of nature to suppose, that any disposition or determination in our frame can be.

But it is not my business here to refute the doctrine of necessity, or to speak more properly, the doctrine of inactivity, (for so was it called by the ancients;) but to shew that freedom, or power, as such, supposes, nay necessarily requires, in order to its subsistence and exercise, established general laws. And this is as evident, as that goods cannot be obtained, nor pains be avoided by us, unless there is a fixed way of getting the one, and shunning the other, which may be foreseen and followed by us.a

The enquiry in which man is chiefly interested, is the extent of his dominion, power, or sphere of activity, that he may know how to regulate himself and his actions; not waste his time and powers in vain, impossible attempts, to gain or change what is absolutely independent of him, but employ himself in the right exercise of his powers,<19> about objects subjected to his will. Accordingly, ancient philosophers have commonly set out in their moral enquiries, by distinguishing and classing the τα εϕ ημινa and the τα ουκ εϕ ημιν, the objects put by nature in our power, and those that are not. We have an excellent catalogue of them in the beginning of Epictetus’s Enchiridion; and in the following enquiry, there will be occasion to take notice of the most important branches of our power, in the natural and in the moral world, that is, over external and sensible objects, or over moral and intellectual ones.

An account of the way in which the enquiry into human nature is to be carried on analogously to natural philosophy.But before I proceed to enquire into any of the general laws relative to human nature, and their effects and final causes; it is necessary, in order to give a clear view of the manner in which it is proposed to carry on that enquiry, and of the strict analogy between natural and moral philosophy, to observe:

That as in natural philosophy, though it would be but building a fine visionary Theory or Fable, to draw out a system of consequences the most accurately connected from mere hypotheses, or upon supposition of the existence and operation of properties, and their laws, which experience does not shew to be really existent; yet the whole of true natural philosophy is not, for that reason, no more than a system of facts discovered by experiment and observation; but it is a mixture of experiments, with reasonings from experiments: so in the same manner, in moral philosophy, though it would be but to contrive a beautiful, elegant romance, to deduce the best coupled system of conclusions concerning human nature from imaginary suppositions, that have no foundation in nature; yet the whole of true moral philosophy, will not, for that reason, be no more than a collection of facts discovered by experience; but it likewise will<20> be a mixed science of observations, and reasonings from principles known by experience to take place in, or belong to human nature.

Hypotheses in either are only to be admitted as questions to be enquired into.In neither case are hypotheses to be any further admitted, than as questions, about the truth or reality of which it is worth while to enquire; but in both we may proceed in the double method of analysis and synthesis: by the former endeavouring to deduce from some certain select effects, the simple powers of nature, and their laws and proportions; from which, by the latter method, we may infer or resolve the nature of other effects.a In both cases equally, as soon as certain powers or laws of nature are inferred from experience, we may consider them, reason about them,But we may proceed in both by analysis and synthesis. compare them with other properties, powers and laws; and these powers being found to be real, whatever conclusions necessarily result from such comparisons or reasonings, must be true concerning them; and do therefore denote as certainly some qualities, properties, attendants or consequents of them, as if these had been immediately discovered by experiment, instead of being deduced by strict reasoning, and necessary inference from principles known to be really true by experience: Or if before any property or law was known to be real, perchance many conclusions had been inferred from the very nature or idea of it, compared with other ideas, by necessary consequence; the moment such laws and properties are found<21> out to be real, the nall the conclusions from them, which were before but mere abstract, hypothetical theories, become real truths, applicable to nature itself, and consequently a key to its operations.

Illustration by examples in natural philosophy.The thing will be sufficiently plain if we take an example. One may draw several conclusions concerning gravity from the nature of the thing, without knowing that it is an universal law of nature; but the moment it is known to be such, all these abstract conclusions concerning the necessary effects of it in certain circumstances, become instead of mere theories, real truths, that is, real parts of the law of gravity, as far as it extends: or though one had never considered gravity in abstract, or made any necessary deductions from its nature and idea, before it was known to be an universal law of bodies; yet after it is found by experience to be such, if any properties, effects or consequences can be drawn from the very consideration of gravity itself, compared with other properties; all such conclusions, the moment they are found out, may be placed to the account of nature, and deemed parts of the natural law of gravity. Thus if the laws of centripedal forces have been determined with regard to an ellipsis, parabola, hyperbola, &c. it immediately follows, that if bodies move in such or such a curve, such and such must be the laws of their centripedal forces; and vice versa, if the laws of the centripedal forces of bodies are found to be such and such, it immediately follows, that such and such must be the nature of the orbits described by bodies that have such and such centripedal forces.

It must be the same in moral philosophy.In like manner in moral philosophy, whatever can be proved to belong to, result from; or contrary wise, to be repugnant to the very definition of intelligence, volition, affection, habit, or any moral power; and a supposed law of such power will become a part of moral philosophy, so soon as such power is known to exist: or vice versa, any effects<22> that can only result from such a law, being found by experience to take place, the law itself must be inferred; and so of course all belonging to that law will come into philosophy, as appertaining to it, and be a key to moral nature and its phenomena, as such. Now of this kind of reasonings in moral philosophy, many instances occur in the following enquiry, almost in every chapter, which for that reason above-mentioned, have the same relation to moral philosophy, that abstract mathematical truths have to natural philosophy, and make part of it in the same way as these do of the latter.

Conclusions concerning moral philosophy.In fine, the only thing in enquiries into any part of nature, moral or corporeal, is not to admit any hypothesis as the real solution of appearances, till it is found really to take place in nature, either by immediate experiment, or by necessary reasonings from effects, that unavoidably lead to it as their sole cause, law, or principle. But all demonstrations which shew that certain moral ideas must have certain relations, that is, certain agreements and disagreements, are in the same way a key to moral nature, that demonstrations relative to the agreements and disagreements of sensible ideas, as gravity, elasticity, circles, triangles, &c. belong, are applicable, or a key to natural philosophy. So that as the explication of the mundan system, being mixed of reasonings and observations, is properly called mixed mathematics, or mixed natural philosophy; so an account of human nature, mixed of principles inferred from immediate observation, and others deduced from such principles, by reasoning from ideas or definitions, may be called mixed moral philosophy, or mixed metaphysics; for demonstrations about moral ideas are commonly called metaphysical. But the word metaphysick having fallen into contempt, instead of calling this treatise mixed principles, or metaphysical principles, I have simply termed it, The principles of moral philosophy. I<23> shall not now enquire into the causes that have brought metaphysical reasonings, the name at least, into disrepute: but certainly no one will say, that intelligence, will, affections, or in one word, moral powers, and their relations, are not worth enquiring into, or collecting experiments and reasonings about.

The following treatise is therefore made up partly of observations, or experiments, and of reasonings from the very nature of moral powers.I have only mentioned all this, to shew how moral philosophy ought to go on, and to forewarn my reader, that he is not to expect in this treatise merely a collection of experiments, but a good deal of reasoning from principles known to be true by experience, to effects; and reciprocally from effects known by experience to be true, to their causes or principles. And whatever may be thought of the execution (which I submit to all candid judges, who are ever rather favourably than severely disposed) sure none can look upon the design to be trifling, who understand what moral powers mean. For if any thing is worth man’s attention, it is man himself, that is, his natural powers, end, dignity and happiness.

The chief design of the following enquiry stated.Having thus dispatched all necessary preliminaries as briefly as I could, the question now to be entered upon is, “Are all the effects and appearances relative to the constitution of our minds, effects of powers, faculties, dispositions and affections, which with all the laws and connexions belonging to them, tend to produce good, order, beauty and perfection in the whole?” As in enquiring about the constitution of a horse, for example, it belongs not properly to such a question, whether that animal be superior or inferior to a lion; but that enquiry presupposes the constitutions and ends of both these animals known; so in the present case, the first question is not, whether there are not in nature more noble beings than man; but whether man deserves his place in nature, as being well adapted to a very good and noble end; to a dignity, a perfection,<24> a happiness, to have fitted and qualified him for which, proves great wisdom and goodness in his Author, the Author of nature.

• Where all must full, or not coherent be;
• And all that rises, rise in due degree;
• Then in the scale of life and sense, ’tis plain,
• There must be somewhere such a rank as man;
• And all the question (wrangle e’er so long)
• Is only this, If God has plac’d him wrong?

• Essay on man, Epist. 1.24

I shall now endeavour to go through the more remarkable general laws of our constitution, to which the chief appearances relative to mankind seem to be reducible.

CHAPTER I

The law of power, or activity.The first thing to be observed with regard to our make and state, is, “That we have a certain sphere of activity.”

Whatever disputes there are among philosophers about the freedom of our will, it is universally acknowledged, “That man has in several cases a power to do as he wills or pleases. Thus, if he wills to speak, or be silent, to sit down, or stand, ride, or walk; in fine, if his will changes like a weather-cock, he is able to do as he wills or pleases, unless prevented by some restraint or compulsion. He has also the same power in relation to the actions of his mind, as to those of the body. If he wills or pleases, he can think of this, or that subject, stop short, or pursue his thoughts, deliberate, or defer deliberation; resolve, or suspend his deliberations as he pleases,<25> unless prevented by pain, or a fit of an apoplexy, or some such intervening restraint or compulsion. And this, no doubt, is a great perfection for man to be able in relation both to his thoughts and actions, to do as he wills and pleases in all these cases of pleasure and interest. Had he this power or liberty in all things, he would be omnipotent.” And in having this power or liberty to a certain extent, does his superior excellence above the brute creation consist. Were not man so made, he would necessarily be a very low and mean creature in comparison of what he really is; as he is now constituted a free agent; or as he is invested with a certain extent of dominion and efficiency.

Power consists in dependence of effects upon the will.The power or dominion of a Being cannot consist in any thing else, but the dependence of certain effectsa upon its will as to their existence or non-existence. Its sphere of activity, liberty and efficiency is larger or narrower in proportion to the extent of this dependence on its will; for so far as it reaches does ones command or will reach. Now how far human power or activity extends; or, in other words,It is a perfection to have power. what are with respect to man the principal τα εϕ ημιν,25 will appear as we advance in this enquiry. Mean time, it is certainly necessary, in order to our dignity and perfection, that we should have a certain dominion and power in nature assigned to us. This, doubtless, is a greater perfection, than having no power, no command, no sphere of activity. Without power, creatures cannot make any acquisition: being capable of virtue and merit, necessarily presupposes some power or dominion.

Of human power.It is matter of universal experience, that, in the present state, a large share of what we enjoy or suffer is put in our own power; or, in other words, that pleasure and pain are the natural consequences of our actions. And consequently, the general method<26> of the author of nature, with regard to us, may be justly said to be teaching, or forewarning us by experience in consequence, of having endued us with the capacity of observing the connexions of things, that if we act so and so, we shall obtain such enjoyments, and if so and so, we shall have such and such sufferings.With regard to animal life and its functions. That is, the author of nature gives us such and such enjoyments; or makes us feel such and such pains in consequence of our actions. We find, by experience, our maker does not so much as preserve our lives independent of our own care and vigilance to provide for our sustenance, to ward against destruction, and to make a proper use of the means appointed by nature for our safety and well-being. And, in general, all the external objects of our various, natural appetites and affections, can neither be obtained, nor enjoyed without our exerting ourselves in the ways appointed to have them; but, by thus exerting ourselves, we obtain and enjoy those objects in which our natural good consists.With respect to moral attainments. In like manner, our progress in knowledge, in any art, or in any virtue, all moral improvements depend upon ourselves: they, with the goods resulting from them, can only be acquired by our own application, or by setting ourselves to acquire them according to the natural methods of acquiring them.Why it is so. This is really our state; such really is the general law of our natures.

Now, if it is asked, why the author of nature does not give to mankind promiscuously such and such perceptions without regard to their actions, or independently of themselves, as nature seems to do with inferior creatures? The answer is obvious, ’Tis because he has made moral agents as well as lower animals. For it is self-evident, that nothing can be called a moral attainment or perfection, but what is acquired by one’s own exercise or application to attain to it. There must be a very high and noble pleasure in considering any quality as one’s own acquisition,<27> which no Beings can have but those who are capable of making improvements and advancements by their own application, or who have a certain power and dominion in nature by which they can make purchases. Such Beings alone can have the satisfaction of looking upon any thing as their own; the pleasure of adding to their own happiness, or to that of others; and of approving themselves for the right use of their own powers in so doing; which are the highest of all enjoyments. In fine, without supposing the capacity of foreseeing consequences, and of willing and chusing to act in such and such manners, in order to attain to certain ends; virtue, merit, good and ill desert have no meaning at all. The capacity of attaining to certain goods, by our own powers duly exercised and applied, is the very basis of moral perfection.Our natural perfection consists in our being so constituted. It is in consequence of our having power to make considerable acquisitions by our industry; or by duly exercising our natural faculties, that man rises in the scale of life and perfection, as a moral agent capable of virtue and merit, praise, or blame, above merely perceptive beings, who never act or acquire, but are in all cases passive and acted upon. This is too evident to be longer insisted upon.

“It is therefore a perfection to have a certain sphere of activity, power, liberty, or dominion.”

Such power supposes nature to be governed by general laws.II. “But a sphere of power or activity, supposes the prevalence of general laws, as far as that sphere of power or activitya extends.” This is as plain, as it is, that goods cannot be obtained, nor pains be avoided by us, unless there is a fixed way of getting the one, and shuning the other, which may be foreseen and pursued. What is attainable, supposes a capacity and a certain way of attaining it, and what is evitable, supposes a capacity<28> and a certain way of escaping it. But a capacity and a way of attaining to; and a capacity and way of escaping certain ends and consequences, suppose general fixed uniform connexions in nature between certain manners of acting and certain consequences: that is, they suppose fixed, uniform and general laws with regard to the exercises of powers or actions. Were there not a certain fixed way of having or avoiding certain sensations, we could not have them nor avoid them as we will. And, in like manner, were there not a fixed way of attaining to knowledge, we could not possibly acquire it: were there not a fixed way of moving the passions, there could be no art of moving them: were there not a fixed way of conquering appetites and desires, we could not obtain the command and mastership of them: and so on with regard to all our powers, dispositions and affections, and their exercises and attainments. The same Author of nature, who hath conferred certain faculties upon us, must have established certain laws and connexions with regard to the exercises of them, and their effects and consequences; otherwise we could not know how to turn them to any account, how to employ them, or make any use of them.

Conclusion.The result of all this is in general, “That we can have no liberty, no dominion, no sphere of activity and power, natural or moral, unless the natural and moral world are governed by general laws: or so far only as they are so governed can any created beings have power or efficiency: so far only can effects be dependent on their will as to their existence or non-existence.”

We are now to enquire into some of these general laws which constitute our power.Now, it being fit that we should have a sphere of activity constituted by general laws regulating the dependence of certain effects on our will, it only remains to be enquired what these general laws, that make our sphere of activity, are; and what their <29> consequences are with respect to good or evil, happiness or misery.

First general law. Intelligent power must depend on knowledge, and encrease with it.III. The first thing remarkable with regard to our sphere of activity is, “that our power and dominion encreases with our knowledge.” Our power in the natural world encreases with our knowledge of the natural world. Thus, by the augmentation of our knowledge of the connexions that make the material or sensible world; or, in other words, of the properties of bodies, how much is our empire over sea, air, fire, and every element encreased? when any property of matter becomes known to us, then are we able to render it subservient to some use in life. And therefore in proportion to our advances in the knowledge and imitation of nature, have arts been invented, that are really so many additions to our power and dominion in the sensible world.In the natural World. It is the same with regard to the moral world. All true observations relative to the human mind, its powers and operations, and the connexions of moral objects do in like manner add to our moral dominion; to our empire over ourselves and others. Thus the knowledge of the passions, and their natural bearings and dependencies encrease our power and skill in governing them, by shewing us how they may be strengthned or diminished; directed to proper objects, or taken off from the pursuit of improper ones; in short, how they may be variously regulated so as to answer certain ends. No connexion belonging to the human mind, no law relative to intelligence, or the affections has been discovered, which has not, or may not be made conducive either to the direction of our conduct, or to the improvement of some pleasant and useful art.And in the moral world. It is not moral philosophy only, or the science of the conduct of life that depends upon the knowledge of the human mind; oratory, poetry, and all the fine arts which have it for their end and scope to touch the human<30> heart agreeably, do no less depend than morality and politics, upon the science of the human affections, and their natural dependence and ballance.

In general therefore, the increase of knowledge is necessary to the encrease of dominion; or rather, it is really an enlargement of power and property. Power not guided and directed by knowledge is not properly power, it is brute or blind force.It is because knowledge depends on us that we have or can acquire power. But intelligent power can only augment with knowledge, or intelligence. It is therefore because knowledge is dependent on us, or may be acquired by us, that we can have any power, any sphere of activity; were not the acquisition of knowledge dependent upon us to a certain degree, we could not have any power at all, nothing could be dependent upon us.

If knowledge be progressive, intelligent power must likewise be so.IV. But the encrease of our power depends upon the encrease of our knowledge; and therefore, if our knowledge must be suaccessive or progressive, so must our power be. Now, “that knowledge must be progressive is evident beyond all doubt.” Being gradually acquired by our application to study nature, take in ideas and compare them, it not only gives us a succession of growing pleasures; but it cannot but be progressive. For, 1. Nature itself, the sole object of all real knowledge, is successive or progressive. What else can direct our conduct, enable us to imitate nature, or to perform any operation in order to attain to any end, but the knowledge of nature’s laws?Knowledge cannot but be progressive. But nature is progressive in all its productions: and general rules or canons can only be inferred by induction, from the observation of many individuals, or from many experiments about particular objects. Creatures cannot possibly attain to the knowledge of analogies, harmonies and general laws, any other way, than by going over many particular effects which do not all exist at once, but are successive; and by comparing them one with another. 2. And as for abstract or theoretic knowledge,<31> (as mathematics for instance) which is collected from the comparison of ideas and their relations amongst themselves; that must likewise be progressive; because discoveries made this way are nothing but the different appearances, ideas and their relations offer to the mind in different views or juxta-positions. When the immediate juxta-position of known relations is not sufficient to give the mind the view it desires, but intermediate ideas must be employed in order to make the agreement or disagreement in question appear; then it is plain, however fast the mind may mount, yet it must mount by steps. And even where the immediate juxta-position of ideas, without any intermediate mean of comparison, is sufficient, yet one and the same juxta-position can produce but one view, or one truth. In order to every discovery, there must be a different position of objects; for perceiving truth, is nothing but perceiving the agreement or disagreement of ideas in consequence of some one or other way of placing or disposing them in respect to one another. It is perceiving the relations of ideas by comparing them; and no position can be any other position but that one which it is. In fine, all real knowledge must be progressive, because nature is successive; and the laws of nature can only be gathered from particular effects by induction. And all theoretic knowledge must be progressive, because the mind cannot possibly see ideas in different situations or juxta-positions to one another at one and the same time. That is absolutely impossible with regard to created minds.

“Our knowledge therefore is progressive.”

Knowledge must depend on our situations for taking in ideas or views.V. “This knowledge, which is in its nature progressive, must depend upon our situations to take in ideas or views.” It must be different as these are different, narrow if these be narrow, and proportionably large as these are large and extensive. 1. It is certain, that the knowledge of no being can possibly<32> exceed or go beyond its ideas. Ideas are the materials of knowledge. It cannot therefore extend further than our ideas; and consequently it cannot reach beyond experience, the only source of all our ideas. 2. Now, if it is asked, why men are placed in different situations? it may be answered, 1. It is because men are made for society, which, as shall be proved in its place, requires that men should be placed in different situations for many wise reasons; and with respect to knowledge, and social intercourse in that way, (for that is all that belongs to the present question) there is this obvious good end or it, even that being placed as it were in various points of sight with regard to nature the common object of our contemplation and imitation, men might thus have different prospects or views of the same object to compare one with another, and only be able to make out a tolerably adequate idea of any object by mutual assistance. 2. In whatever situation any man is placed, he may take in ideas that will afford him an exhaustless fund of pleasing contemplation. For what object does not as it were defy our intellect to exhaust it? however far we advance in any enquiry, there will still remain a surplusage of research with regard to its object, that can never be wholly gone through. Every field of speculation widens and enlarges to our view in proportion as we make progress in it. But, 3.Men must have different situations and views. Let us consider well what is demanded, when it is asked, why all men are not in the same situations, or precisely equal, or like ones for taking in ideas? For, in reality, it amounts to asking, why all different places in nature are not the same: since every different one must be a different point of sight. Now, whatever may be the case with respect to spirits without bodies; corporeal beings cannot penetrate one another and occupy the same space; different bodies must have each its own proper place peculiar to it; and consequently, every embodied being must have its own point of sight, or place of<33> observation, which no other can possess at the same time. 4. Nor is this all, every embody’d being must have its own particular organization distinguished by peculiar differences from that of every other of the same species, tho’ similar to them all, in such a manner, that they all are of the same specific sort. And must it not necessarily follow from this, that the sensible world to each individual of the same species, will be just as similar to the sensible world of any other, as their organizations are similar, and just as different as their organizations are different? The external, material world, whether it be called the external cause, or occasion of those sensible ideas and their connexions, which make to each of us what we call the sensible world, is entirely out of the question, when we speak of sensations excited by it in each individual mind according to certain fixed laws. It may be the same, immutable thing in itself. But as for the sensations produced in us from without by means of a material organization, these must be as different as the organizations are, by which they are produced.With respect to the sensible world. And it is not more certain, that the organizations of men being so like, that they may be justly said to be specifically the same; our sensations conveyed from without, must likewise be so like, that they may be said to be specifically the same; than it is certain, that our organizations, notwithstanding their specifical agreement, being really so different, that every one is justly said to have a peculiar organization, our sensations conveyed from without must like-wise be so different, that every one of us may be said to have different sensations. So that, in reality, there are not only as many different sensible worlds in species, as there are various species of sensitive beings; but there are as many different sensible worlds, as there are different or particular organizations of sensitive beings of any one species. It is similarity amidst vast variety with respect to sensations, and the orders in which they are conveyed, in consequence of similarity<34> amidst variety of organizations, that is the foundation of close and intimate intercourse among individuals of the same sensitive species. And the reason why there can only be a remote and very general intercourse among sensitive beings of a different species is, because there can only be a general similarity between their sensations.

In like manner with regard to mental frame and the moral world.VI. But which is yet more, every individual of any species of rational beings, howsoever like it may be specifically to the others of the same species, must however have its own particular fabrick of mind, and peculiar cast of understanding; and consequently, every one must take in views in a manner some what different from every other. The views of every one of the same species will be similar, their fabrick of mind being similar; but their views will likewise be different, every man’s complexion, or cast of understanding being different. Similarity of views in consequence of similarity of constitution is all that can constitute the same species of minds; and it will be a sufficient foundation for a close and intimate commerce among beings, that cannot possibly take place among minds differing from one another in species.

But if every body must have its particular organization, and every mind its particular fabrick, and consequently the sensations, perceptions, ideas, and views of every individual embodied mind must be peculiar; not precisely the same, but different; the only question with regard to our fabrick and situations for receiving or forming ideas, or for taking in and forming views, must be, “Whether there is not such a similarity and agreement amongst us in these, as makes our species capable of very much happiness in the way of social correspondence and intercourse?” Now, that we are so constituted, is very plain; since we are so made, that, notwithstanding all the variety amongst mankind, whether<35> in mental structure or bodily organization, it is hardly possible for us to mistake one another in our correspondence with regard to our sensations conveyed from without; and it is very possible for us to come to a right understanding with one another about all the other objects of our contemplation, enquiry and mutual commerce. But this reasoning will be better understood when we come to consider the effects of our relation to a sensible world by means of our bodies.

Thus then we have seen, that “our knowledge, without which we can have no power, must be progressive, and must depend upon our situation for taking in views or ideas.”

Knowledge must depend upon industry to acquire it.VII. But “it must likewise depend upon our application to make progress in it.” For, as it hath been shewn, this is the general law with regard to our nature; that the greater part of our happiness, shall be our own purchase. And what depends upon a being’s own purchase, must necessarily depend upon its exerting itself with more or less vigour and activity to make that purchase. It is therefore needless to dwell upon this head.

VIII. But there are yet two other remarkable circumstances, with regard to our capacity of making progress in knowledge. 1st. The difference amongst men in point of powers and abilities. 2dly, The dependence of our progress in knowledge upon our situations for receiving assistances by social communication.

It must depend upon difference with respect to natural abilities.Now as to the first, it will be easily granted that a difference in powers must make a difference with respect to progress in knowledge. And that all men have not equal abilities, for making proficiency in knowledge, is a fact beyond dispute. Wherefore the only remaining question on this head is with regard to the fitness of inequalities among mankind, in respect of powers; but this cannot be called into doubt, without denying the<36> fitness of making man a social creature, or of intending him for society and social happiness: since the interchange of good offices, in which society consists, necessarily supposes mutual dependence in consequence of mutual wants; and not only variety of talents, as well as of tastes, and tempers; but likewise superiority and inferiority, in respect of powers. Without such differences and inequalities, mankind would be, in a great measure, a number of independent individuals: or at least there would be no place for the greater part of those various employments and reciprocal obligations, without which, or some others analogous to them, there can be no community. This is as certain and obvious, as that giving supposes a receiver, as well as a giver; and that giving can only be necessary, where there is something wanted: One cannot bestow, or give what he has not; and he who is supplied or redressed, must have been in want or distress, previously to the relief received.

Progress in knowledge must depend on social assistances.As for the other, it is beyond all doubt. For in conversation, how does fancy warm and sprout! It is then that invention is most fertile, and that imagination is most vigorous and sprightly. The best way of getting to the bottom of any subject is by canvassing and sounding it in company: then is an object presented to us by turns in all its various lights, so that one is able, as it were, to see round it. As iron sharpens iron, so does conversation whet wit and invention. Ideas flow faster into the mind, and marshal themselves more easily and naturally into good order in society, than in solitary study. In fine, to be convinced of the happy effects of society in this respect, we need only compare a peasant confined to his hut and herd in the country, with a mechanic of the lowest order in a great city.a And when<37> we look into the history of arts and sciences or of mankind in general, nothing is more evident, than that learning of whatever sort, and arts and sciences, never made any great progress but in places of large and extensive commerce. There always was and always will be such a connexion; because men were intended by nature to arrive at perfection in a social way; or by united endeavours. Now as for that fitness, it cannot be called into question no more than the other just mentioned, unless it be said, it is not fit that men should be made for partnership, or for social happiness. For, how can beings be made for society without being so formed as to stand in need of one another; so made as to have pleasure in social communication; and to receive mutual benefits and assistances, or succours from one another in the exercises of their powers; or, unless their perfection and happiness be such a one as can only be acquired by social union and united force? But what relates to society shall be more fully considered in another place.

From what hath been said, it is clear, 1. “That it is the general law of our natures with regard to our dominion, power or liberty, that it shall depend upon our progress in knowledge.”Recapitulation. 2. That it is the general law of our natures with regard to knowledge, “That being in the nature of things progressive, it can only be acquired by experience in proportion to our application, and to our situation for taking in ideas and views, and to our situation for receiving assistances by social communication.” So that if men’s natural abilities be equal, their progress in knowledge will be in proportion to their situation for receiving ideas, and for receiving assistances by social communication: and if their situations are equal in both these respects, their progress in knowledge will be in proportion to their natural abilities, or their industry and application. But as one’s knowledge is, so will his capacity or skill be of employing all his other<38> powers. Intelligent power supposes intelligence or knowledge.

The laws with respect to our intelligent power and progress in knowledge are good.Now all these laws or circumstances relative to knowledge and intelligent action, having been proved to be either necessary or fit; it must follow, that all the phenomena which are reducible to these laws of nature are good, being the effects of good general laws. For without general laws there can be no power or sphere of activity; and all the interests of intelligent beings require, that the laws relative to them be general, that they may be ascertainable by them.

But we shall have yet a clearer view of our make and constitution with respect to knowledge, if we consider a little the faculties and dispositions with which we are provided and furnished for making progress in knowledge.

Instances of the care and concern of nature about us, with regard to knowledge consistently with the preceeding laws.Let us, however, before we go further, observe; that tho’ knowledge be progressive and dependent on our diligence and application to improve in it, yet the care of nature about us with regard to knowledge is very remarkable in several instances.

I. The wisdom and goodness of nature appears with great evidence, in making a part of knowledge, which it is necessary for us to have in our infant state, and before we can think,First instance. meditate, compare and reason, as it were unavoidable, or impossible not to be acquired by us insensibly; while, at the same time, knowledge is in the main progressive, and can only be acquired gradually in proportion to our diligence to improve in it. For how soon, how exceeding quickly do we learn by experience to form very ready judgments concerning such laws and connexions in the sensible world, as it is absolutely necessary to our well-being, that we should early know; or be able to judge of betimes with great readiness, or almost instantaneously? How soon do we learn to judge of magnitudes, distances and forms, and of<39> the connexions between the ideas of sight and touch, as far, at least, as the common purposes and conveniencies of life require; in so much, that when we are grown up and begin to reflect, we have quite forgot, how we learned these connexions, and became able to judge of them so readily. Nay, when we come to play the philosopher about them, it is very difficult for us not to confound those ideas, which are however totally distinct from one another, and only connected together by the institution of the Author of nature. It is indeed with wonderful facility that we learn any language in our tender years; but this most useful of all languages for us to know, the language of nature, as it may very properly be called, is what we learn soonest, and as it were necessarily and insensibly.a

Second instance.II. The wisdom and goodness of nature does no less evidently appear in directing and admonishing us by uneasy sensations to provide necessary supplies for our bodies, and to defend them against what is hurtful to them. For thus, nature teaches and instructs us in the knowledge of what is prejudicial to us, or necessary for our preservation; and how highly inconvenient it would have been, not to be thus admonished by nature, since knowledge must be progressive, and can only be acquired gradually from experience and observation in proportion to our application to advance in it, is too manifest to need any proof. But of this afterwards in its proper place.

Third instance.III. The wisdom and goodness of nature likewise discovers itself, in giving us a rule to guide us in our moral conduct, distinct from and antecedent to all our knowledge acquired by reasoning, which is a moral sense of beauty and deformity in affections,<40> actions and characters, by means of which, an affection, action or character, no sooner presents itself to our mind, than it is necessarily approved or disapproved by us. Human nature is not left quite indifferent in the affair of virtue to form itself, observations concerning the advantages and disadvantages of actions, and accordingly to regulate its conduct. Reason must be grown up to very great maturity, and be very considerably improved by exercise and culture, before men can be able to go through those long deductions, which shew some actions to be in the whole advantageous to the agent, and their contraries pernicious. But the Author of nature has much better furnished us for a virtuous conduct than many philosophers seem to imagine, or, at least are willing to grant, by almost as quick and powerful instructions as we have for the preservation of our bodies. He has given us strong affections to be the springs of each virtuous action, and made virtue a lovely form that we might easily distinguish it from its contrary, and be made happy by the pursuit of it. As the Author of nature has determined us to receive by our outward senses, pleasant or disagreeable ideas of objects, according as they are useful or hurtful to our bodies, and to receive from uniform objects the pleasures of beauty and harmony, to excite us to the pursuit of knowledge, and to reward us for it; in the same manner, he has given us a moral sense to direct our actions, and to give us still nobler pleasures; so that while we are only intending the good of others, we undesignedly promote our own greatest private good.a

Fourth instance.IV. The wisdom and goodness of nature shews itself very clearly, in wonderfully adapting our minds to be satisfied with evidence suited to our external condition and circumstances. We are made<41> for acquiring knowledge or information concerning the frame of nature, and the connexions of things from experience; but we must in innumerable cases act upon probability, that is, upon presumptions founded upon analogy or likeness: and accordingly, in this kind of evidence, we feel great satisfaction and contentment of mind. That we must, in innumerable cases, act upon probable evidence, is a fact too evident to need any proof; and that acting upon probable evidence, is acting upon presumptions founded upon analogy or likeness, will likewise be readily acknowledged by all who will allow themselves to consider what probability means. That which chiefly constitutes it, is expressed in the word likely; that is,a like some known truth or true event; like, in itself, in its evidence, in some more or fewer of its circumstances. Now, it belongs to the subject of logick to enquire into the nature, the foundation and measure of probability, or to reduce the extent, compass or force of analogical reasoning, to general observations and rules; and thus to guard against the errors to which reasoning from analogy is liable; but if we enquire from whence it proceeds, that likeness should beget that presumption, opinion, or full conviction, which the human mind is formed to receive from it; and which it does necessarily produce in every one proportionally to its various degrees. This question contains its own proper and full answer. It is because the mind is formed to receive satisfaction from it, and acquiesce in it proportionally to its several degrees. And the final cause of this formation is no less evident; since our present state makes our acting upon such evidence<42> necessary. When demonstration is said to force our assent, the meaning is, that by it, we have a clear perception of the necessary agreement or disagreement of certain ideas; an agreement or disagreement that cannot but take place. But where such a necessary agreement or disagreement of ideas cannot be perceived, as it cannot be with respect to any connexions of nature of positive institution, of which sort are, for instance, the connexion between the ideas of sight and touch, and almost all, if not all the connexions of the sensible world. In such cases, nothing but various degrees of likelihood or unlikelihood can be perceived; and such perceptions do not so properly operate upon our understanding producing assent, as upon our temper producing satisfaction and complacency; the contraries of which are wavering and mistrust, or dissidence. But not to seem to dispute about words, let the effect of probability, that is, of likeness, be called an effect upon the understanding, or upon the will; a judgment or a tendency to determine ourselves to act this or the other way, or not to act at all, according to the various force of presumption; yet the effect of it upon the mind cannot be ultimately accounted for, without supposing an aptitude or disposition in our natures to be influenced by presumptions or appearances of likeness. ’Tis the same here, as with regard to the perception of beauty; when we have analysed it into its constituent and concomitant parts; we have in that case a clearer and more adequate notion of it; yet it must still remain true with respect to it, that its constituent and concomitant parts make a perception that affects the mind in a certain manner, merely because the mind is intended and fitted by nature to be so affected by it. We must in all such cases at last come to an ultimate reason, which can be no other than the adjustment of the mind to certain objects. But so far as we see and find our minds suited to our state and circumstances;<43> so far do we see clear proofs of wisdom and goodness in our make and contrivance, or of care and concern about our welfare. ’Tis almost unnecessary to remark here, that to say, the mind often presumes rashly, and makes false judgments about probability, is no more any objection against its right formation in our circumstances with respect to its natural aptitude to be influenced by probability, than it is against certainty and scientific evidence, wherever that is attainable, to say many philosophers have been deceived, and have mistaken absurdities for demonstrations.

Fifth instance.V. The care of nature about us, with respect to knowledge, appears by its giving us considerable light into some more necessary parts of knowledge; or, at least, considerable hints and helps for discovering several useful arts, by the operations and productions of inferior animals directed by their natural instincts. For these acting as nature impels them, shew some of us how to build, others to swim, others to dive and fish, some how to spin and weave, some how to cure wounds and diseases, others how to modulate the voice into melody, &c.

This truth is charmingly represented by an excellent poet, in a poem (that must be highly valued while moral science and true harmony are relished in the world) which I shall have frequent occasion to quote.

• See him from nature rising slow to art!
• To copy instinct then was reason’s part;
• Thus then to man the voice of nature spake—
• “Go! from the creatures thy instructions take;
• Learn from the birds what food the thickets yield;
• Learn from the beasts the physic of the field:<44>
• Thy arts of building from the bee receive;
• Learn of the mole to plow, the worm to weave;
• Learn from the little nautilus to sail,
• Spread the thin oar and catch the driving gale.
• Here too all forms of social union find,
• And hence let reason, late instruct mankind:
• Here subterranean works and cities see,
• The towns aerial on the waving tree.
• Learn each small people’s genius, policies;
• The ants republic, and the realm of bees;
• How those in common all their stores bestow,
• And anarchy without confusion know,
• And these for ever, tho’ a monarch reign,
• Their sep’rate cells and properties maintain.
• Mark what unvary’d laws preserve their state,
• Laws wise as nature, and as fix’d as fate,
• In vain thy reason finer webs shall draw,
• Entangle justice in her net of law.
• And right too rigid, harden into wrong,
• Still for the strong too weak, the weak too strong.
• Yet go! and thus o’er all the creatures sway,
• Thus let the wiser make the rest obey,
• And for those arts mere instinct could afford,
• Be crown’d as monarchs, or as gods ador’d.

• Essay on man, epist. III.a

Sixth instance.VI. Add to this, that as it is from nature only that the real knowledge of nature can be learned, so the connexions of nature lie open to our view.b It is only because men have wilfully shut their eyes against<45> nature, and have vainly set themselves to devise or guess its methods of operation, without taking any assistance from nature it self, that natural knowledge has made such slow advances. Whence it comes about that men have at any time been misled into the foolish attempt of understanding nature by any other method, than by attending to it, and carefully observing it, is a question I shall not now enter upon. But so obvious are the greater part of nature’s connexions to all those who study nature, that so soon as the right, the only method of getting into its secrets was pursued, great improvements were quickly made in that knowledge; and all discoveries in it, after they are found out, appear so simple and so obvious, that one cannot help wondering how it came about that they were not sooner seen and observed.

Now nature, in order to put us into the right way of coming at real knowledge, has not only implanted in our minds an eager desire or thirst after knowledge, but likewise a strong disposition to emulate all the works of nature that fall more immediately under our cognisance, and in a manner to vie with nature in productions of our own. This disposition to emulate nature, as it adds considerable force to our desire of knowledge, so it serves to assist us in acquiring it; for it necessarily leads and prompts us to copy what is done by nature, and thus makes us attend very closely to the object or phenomenon we would imitate, and try experiments about it; by which means alone, it is obvious, any real knowledge can be acquired. But not only is the knowledge of nature owing to this imitative principle in our minds, together with our desire of knowledge; but hence likewise proceed all the imitative arts, Poetry, Painting, Statuary, &c. Whatever we see performed by nature, we are emulous and restless to perform something like it, and so to rival nature. And hence all the bold and daring efforts of the human<46> mind, in the various ways or arts of imitating, or rather excelling nature.a

A review of our natural furniture for knowledge.But as considerable as these assistances are which have been mentioned, they amount but to a small share of what nature hath done for us, in order to fit us for progress in knowledge, and the manifold pleasures arising from truth, and the search after it.

Knowledge naturally agreeable to the mind.I. Progress in knowledge is rewarded by itself every step it makes; for darkness is not more disagreeable to the natural eye, than ignorance is to the mind: the breaking in of knowledge upon the understanding, is not less refreshing and chearing than the appearance of day after a gloomy, weary night to a traveller. Every discovery we make; every glimpse of truth, as it begins to dawn upon the mind, gives high delight. And thus every acquisition in science recompences our labour, and becomes a strong incitement to greater application, in order to make further improvements, bring in fresh purchases, and so procure new pleasures to ourselves. The reason of all this can be no other, than that truth or knowledge is naturally as agreeable and satisfactory to the understanding, as light is to the eye; and that there is really implanted in our natures an appetite after knowledge.We have a natural appetite after knowledge. It is indeed a mistake to imagine that we have no appetites of the moral kind. The desire of society, and the impatient thirst after knowledge, are as properly appetites, as hunger and thirst, &c. The mind of man is naturally anxious and inquisitive; uneasy while it is in the dark about any thing, and anxious to understand<47> it; and when it comes to a satisfactory knowledge of any object, it then looks upon it in a great measure as its own; as subdued by its understanding, and at its command; and thus it triumphs in its own power and force. And the oftner and more intensely this pleasure has been felt, the desire of knowledge waxes stronger and keener. It grows in proportion as it has been exercised and gratified by study and contemplation. But let us observe how this natural desire of knowledge is excited, supported, gratified and directed.a

New or uncommon objects wonderfully attract our attention.II. New or uncommon objects greatly attract our minds, and give us very high pleasure. Now by this means we are prompted to look out for new ideas, and to give all diligence to make fresh discoveries in science. “Every thing that is new or uncommon (says an excellent writera ) raises a pleasure in the imagination, because it fills the soul with an agreeable surprize, gratifies its curiosity, and gives it an idea of which it was not before possessed. We are indeed so often conversant with one set of objects, and tired out with so many repeated shows of the same things, that whatever is new or uncommon, contributes not a little to vary human life, and to divert our minds for a while with the strangeness of its appearance; it serves us for a kind of refreshment, and takes off from that satiety we are apt to complain of, in our usual and ordinary entertainments. It is this that bestows charms on a monster, and makes even the imperfections of nature please us. It is this that recommends variety,<48> when the mind is every instant called off to something new, and the attention not suffered to dwell too long, and waste itself on any particular object. It is this likewise, which improves what is great or beautiful, and makes it afford the mind double entertainment. Groves, fields, meadows, are at any season of the year pleasant to look upon, but never so much as at the beginning of the spring, when they are all new and fresh, with their first gloss upon them, and not yet too much accustomed and familiar to the eye. For this reason there is nothing more enlivens a prospect, than rivers, jetteaus, or falls of water, when the scene is perpetually changing, and entertaining the sight every moment with something that is new: We are quickly tired with looking upon hills and valleys, where every thing continues fixed and settled in the same place and posture ; but find our thoughts not a little agitated and relieved at the sight of such objects as are ever in motion, and sliding away from beneath the eye of the beholder.”

The final reason or cause why it is so.After this description of several effects of novelty, it will be easy to every one to run over many more of the same class in his imagination; and the reason why we are so made, is because we are made for motion and progress: not to stand still, but to go forward and proceed; we are made for encrease, and gradual advancement; and therefore variety is naturally so agreeable, that we cannot be easy without making some new acquirements.

How this itch of novelty is checked and ballanced by the power of habit.But by way of counterpoise in our frame to this useful desire of novelty, and delight in variety, lest it should render us too superficial in our attention to objects, and too rambling and desultory in our quest of knowledge, it is so ordered by our make, that by continuing a little while our attention to the same object, a liking to it is contracted: an object, by being frequently present to our view, becomes<49> familiar to us, we form an intimacy with it.a And thus, as the pleasure of friendship retains us from continually running about in search of new faces, so the habitude of studying in the same train, or of considering the same kind of ideas, by rendring them more agreeable to us, contributes to make us more fixed and steady in our application to the consideration of an object, till we have fully examined it. It prevents our becoming too changeable and unsettled in our pursuit of knowledge, ever to make great advances in any kind of it. Such is the power of habit, which shall be more fully considered afterwards: and hence the sage advice given by philosophers with regard to the choice of one’s business or profession in life, “To choose the best, that is, the most advantageous, and custom will make it agreeable.”

The natural delight of the mind in beauty.III. The mind naturally delights in comparing ideas, and in traceing their agreements and disagreements, their resemblances and differences; and it is thus that knowledge is acquired. But which greatly contributes at once to give pleasure to the mind in the pursuit of knowledge, and to direct it to the proper objects and methods of inquiry, is the natural delight of the mind in uniformity amidst variety; or in other words, in unity of design, and the consent of parts to one end.In natural beauty. The objects of contemplation that please immediately, or at their first appearance to the mind, are those that are found upon after-examination, to be regular, to have unity, or to make systems easily taken in and comprehended by the mind. Every such form naturally attracts the mind, and is wonderfully agreeable to it. It could not do so, were we not so formed as<50> to receive a particular, distinguishing pleasure from such objects: for whatever pleases, necessarily presupposes an aptitude or disposition in our nature to be agreeably affected by it. Now being so framed as to be naturally and necessarily affected by such objects as have been described, in an agreeable manner, we are thus prompted by nature to delight in the contemplation of such objects, and to seek after them. We are by this means led, impelled and directed to resolve every object into its constituent parts, and to refer these parts to one another, and to their common end; or to consider a thing as a whole, and to look out for its principal meaning scope and intent, and to enquire how that is accomplished; by which means, by the simplest, and those that are merely necessary, or by too complex a way and superfluous toil.Thus we are led to enquire after analogies and general laws in nature. It is thus we are led to enquire into nature, trace its analogies and harmonies, or general laws, and to admire its simplicity and frugality. And in like manner in abstract science, as in mathematics, for example, we are conducted by the same principle, to aim at universal conclusions, or such general theorems and canons, as contain in them a great variety of particular cases. It is the same taste that enables us to distinguish what we call ease and grace, whether in externalmotion, or any composition of wit and genius; namely, our sense of the beauty which consists in the due medium between the nimium & parum, the too little and too much; for so the decorum is defined by the antients; and all beauty, whether in nature itself, or in the arts that imitate nature, ultimately resolves itself into the observance of this maxim, “Frustra sit per plura quod per pauciora fieri potest.” Nature is beautiful, because nature “nihil frustra facit.”26 Nature is simple, and we are most aptly contrived to delight in nature, to find out the proper way of studying and imitating it, by<51> our natural delight in the beauty which results from simplicity and regularity.a

The natural delight of our mind in moral beauty.But besides our natural sense of beauty and harmony in material objects, arising from unity amidst variety, we have analogous to it another sense, viz. a sense of beauty in affections, actions and characters. Beauty in merely corporeal forms is indeed exceeding entertaining to the mind. “There is nothing that makes its way more directly to the soul than beauty, which immediately diffuses a secret satisfaction and complacency through the imagination, and gives a finishing to any thing that is great or uncommon. The first discovery of it strikes the mind with secret joy, and spreads a chearfulness and delight through all its faculties.”27 But does not every one feel that beauty of the moral kind is yet more charming and transporting than any corporeal beauty! And what is that, but such a tendency of an action to publick good, as shews generous intention, and benevolent affection in the agent.Thus we are led to enquire after good final reasons. Now as by the former sense we are impelled and pointed to look out for unity of design, simplicity and consent of parts, and therefore to trace analogies in nature, and to reduce like appearances to general laws; so by the latter, we are prompted and directed to enquire after the goodness and fitness of general laws, that is, their tendency to the good of the whole to which they belong, or which<52> is constituted and regulated by them. This taste of the mind as naturally leads us to such researches as any other appetite impells us to gratify it. And do not these two dispositions in our nature, so analogous to one another, make an excellent provision or assistance for our making progress in knowledge? They naturally point us towards the objects, and methods of enquiring, that will be at once most pleasing and useful. They tell us, as it were, what we ought chiefly to employ our enquiries about, and how we ought to manage them.

The natural delight of our mind in great objects.IV. To conclude. We are considerably aided and directed in our researches after knowledge, by our natural delight in great objects, or such as wonderfully dilate and expand the mind, and put its grasp to the trial. For thus we are prompted not only to admire the grandeur of nature in general, or in the large and astonishing prospects its immensity affords us; and in the greatness of some particular objects of nature, of an enlivening and sublime kind; but in that greatness of manner which appears every where in its methods of operation, even in the minutest objects of sense; and to copy after this greatness of nature in our imitations of it by arts.a The mind being naturally great,<53> and fond of power and perfection, delights highly in trying its strength, and in stretching itself, and there fore is exceeding pleased with those objects<54> that dilate it, or give it occasion and excite it to expand itself.

The imagination a most useful power.Let us now proceed to consider a little some of our faculties or powers, by which we are fitted for knowledge. And here we may observe, 1. That the imagination is a faculty of wonderful use in our frame: it is by this faculty that we have memory, and are able to recal absent objects to our mind, set lovely pictures of them before us, and thus contemplate and examine them, as if they were actually present with us. 2. It is this faculty that renders us capable of many delightful imitative arts, which for that reason are called arts of imagination. Both these facts are too obvious to need any proof. 3. But it is well worth while to remark how it comes about, that imagination is capable of affording us such a vast variety of pleasures, and of inventing so many fine arts, as rhetoric, poetry, painting, &c. for it is evident, that without the imagination these arts would be absolutely unknown to us.It is necessary to render us capable of social commerce by discourse. Now it has been often observed on that subject, that such is the analogy between sensible and moral objects, that there is none of the latter sort that may not be cloathed with a sensible form or image, and represented to us as it were in a material shape and hue. So true is this, that not only are wit and poetry owned to take place only in consequence of this analogy or resemblance of moral and natural ideas; but even all language is confessed to be originally taken from sensible objects, or their properties and effects.We could not have mutual commerce by discourse, were not the moral world analogous to the natural world. But the real truth of the matter perhaps is not very generally attended to, which is, “That moral ideas could not at all be expressed by words, if they could not be pictured to us by means of analogous sensible objects.” Not only are those the best words to express moral objects in oratory or poetry, which suggest the liveliest, the strongest, the clearest images or pictures of<55> them derived from sensible forms: but in general, words cannot express any moral objects, but by exciting pictures of them in our minds. But all words being originally expressive of sensible qualities, no words can express moral ideas, but so far as there is such an analogy be twixt the natural and moral world, that objects in the latter may be shadowed forth, pictured or imaged to us by some resemblances to them in the former. It is imagination therefore that renders us capable of social intercourse and commerce, even about moral ideas, and their relations, by mutual discourse. And so far as language can go in communicating sentiments, so far have we an indisputable proof of analogy between the sensible and the moral world; and consequently of wonderful wisdom and goodness, in adjusting sensible and moral relations and connexions one to another; the sensible world to our minds, and reciprocally the connexions of things relative to our moral powers to the connexions of things that constitute the sensible world.The right method of teaching language would teach us this analogy. It is this analogy that makes the beauty, propriety, and force of words, expressive of moral ideas, by conveying pictures of them into the mind; so little attended to in teaching languages, whereby the study of language is rendered so jejune and insipid; whereas, if rightly taught, by it great insight would early be got into one of the most entertaining and useful parts of knowledge; and that clearly manifests the wisdom and goodness of nature in our fabric; namely, the analogy or consent between the moral and natural world, in consequence of which, words primitively signifying sensible ideas, may convey moral ones into the mind by analogy.

It is by fancy that our passionate part is reached.But whatever may be thought of this assertion, it is plain from the consideration of poetry, oratory, or any of the arts which are capable of touching or moving the heart agreeably, that nature has given us the imaginative faculty on purpose to enable us to<56> give warming as well as enlightening colours to truths; or to embellish, recommend and enforce them upon the mind. For tho’ truths may be rendered evident and certain to the understanding by reasoning about them, yet they cannot reach our heart, or bestir our passionate part but by means of the imagination. The fine arts are, indeed, but so many different languages by which truths may be represented, illustrated and recommended to us. And these arts show us the power and use of fancy, by making us feel its influence on the heart, or how directly it makes its way to it. But the moral power of imagination, must be evident to every one who reflects how it is, for instance, that any absent object is able to outweigh a present pleasure in our mind. For how else is it that the remote one receives strength, but by the lively affecting manner in which imagination represents it, so as to render it as it were present, or, at least, tho’ absent, so efficacious, that no interveening self-denial, or suffering is sufficient to retard the mind from pursuing it, with the utmost intenseness? ’Tis a lively picture drawn by the fancy that does all this.

Why we are so constituted.Now, if it be asked, why we are so constituted? Perhaps if we had a fuller knowledge of the human mind, we might be able to see many reasons for it: mean time, ’tis sufficient to vindicate nature for having so framed us, that we plainly see, how in consequence of such a constitution, we are able to become Poets, in the proper sense of the word, that is, Creators; able to vie with nature and rival it; and that to it we owe a vast variety of very noble pleasures, far superior to those of meer sense, even all those which genius, wit, refined fancy, and the fine arts that imitate or contend with nature afford us.

Imagination is not ingovernable.IV. With regard to imagination, let it be observed, that tho’ it be thought by such as have not taken proper pains to form and improve it, a meer<57> rambler, and utterly incapable of governance; yet ancient philosophers have assured us from their experience, “That if habitual temperance be added to just care to cultivate the imagination, and give it a right turn, such a command may be obtained over it, that its employments even in dreams shall not only be pure and chaste, but very regular as well as highly entertaining.” It is indeed not to be wondered at, considering how egregiously the formation of fancy is neglected in education, that it should be so irregular, desultory and turbulent a faculty, instead of a pleasant, governable and useful one. Philosophers satisfy themselves with railing at it, as a pernicious rather than an advantageous part of our frame; as being instead of an assistant in the pursuit of science, an enemy to truth; a misleader, a sophist, and corrupter: but were it not capable of being not only regulated, but highly refined and improved by due care, mankind had been utter strangers to all the entertaining and embellishing arts of fancy, which give such lustre, beauty and taste to human life; to all the ingenious productions of men of wit and fine imagination: the advances that have been made towards its improvement, to which we owe so many great genius’s, and their delightful productions and compositions, are a sufficient argument, that by timely care duly persevered in, it might be habituated to order regularity and wholesome as well as pleasant exercise. Is it to be wondered, that those whose waking thoughts are so irregular and unprofitable, should have very idle and impertinent visions in their sleep? But so true is the antient maxim about the correspondence or analogy between our dreams and our employments throughout the day, that I believe no temperate man, much given to study,a is not rather entertained<58> than molested by his night reveries, provided he be in a good habit of body. As for the dependence of body and mind, it shall be considered in another place. And the dependence of the imagination upon culture, or our care to improve it, and exercise it rightly, hath been already accounted for, by shewing, that according to the general law of our nature in consequence of which we have dominion, a sphere of activity, and are capable of making acquisitions, and by that means of virtue and merit; the improvement of all our faculties depends on ourselves; and it is the dependence of the improvement of the understanding, reason, imagination, and all our faculties upon our care to improve them, that makes us a species of beings superior to those who have no activity, but only receive sensations from without independently of their own will, choice or foresight.

The other faculty of our minds, that remains to be considered under this article of knowledge, and power, and the laws relative to them, is invention.

Invention what it is and how improveable.Now with respect to it I would observe,

I. That the phenomena of invention appear to us very irregular and whimsical, merely because, for want of a history of them, we cannot reduce them to general laws. Every thing must appear to us casual, anomalous, and as it were detached from nature, while we do not know the general laws on which it depends, or from which it results. And<59> therefore till we be at more pains, than hath yet been taken, to collect a history relating to invention, there can be no other reason to call any of them casual and irregular, than there was to call several other phenomena of nature such, while their laws were not known, which now that they are found out, do no more appear to us to be such.A history of it, and the phenomena relating to it, is much wanted. On the contrary, there is good reason to think, that the phenomena of invention may have their general laws; since in whatever case almost we have taken right methods of tracing effects to their general laws, such laws have been discovered; and then the effects which before appeared irregular, immediately changed their face, and assumed, as it were, another mein: they now no more seem uncouth and marvelous, but ordinary and according to rule. It is only in the way of experiment, that either the science of the human mind, or of any material system can be acquired. And by the discoveries made in natural philosophy, we know, that no sooner are facts collected, and laid together in proper order, than the true theory of the phenomenon in question presents itself. And hence, we have reason to think, that knowledge of the qualities and operations of bodies, would quickly make very great and profitable advances, far beyond what it has yet arrived to, by pursuing the same method that has brought it to the present degree of perfection. Now when we consider that moral knowledge can only be carried on in the same way, is it any wonder that the human mind is so little known, since men have not studied it with due care, but have rather been more misled in this philosophy, than in natural, by fictitious hypotheses and romantic, visionary theories? For such are all theories that are not the result of well ranged phenomena.

What discovery of new truths is.II. But tho, without all doubt, it is highly reasonable to expect very great assistances for the promotion<60> and improvement of all sciences and arts from an acurate knowledge of our inventive powers, that is, from a full history of their operations and productions; yet, in the mean time, ’tis plain, that invention is nothing else but the habit acquired by practice of assembling ideas or truths, with facility and readiness, in various positions and arrangements, in order to have new views of them. For no truths can be placed in any position or order with respect to one another, but some agreement or disagreement, some relation or quality of these ideas must appear to the mind. And discovery of a new or unknown relation can be nothing else but the result of placing truths, objects or ideas, in some new or unobserved position.And how they are made. But, if this be the case, then the great business with regard to invention and its improvement, must be to accustom ourselves to look round every idea as it were, and to view it in all possible situations and positions; and to let no truth we know pass, till we have compared it with many others in various respects; not only with such, as are like or a kin to it, but with its seeming contraries, opposites, or disparates. Every different juxtaposition of ideas, will give us a new view of them, that is, discover some unknown truth. And the mind by such exercise alone can attain to readiness, quickness and distinctness, in comparing ideas in order to get knowledge.

How it becomes easier to make progress in knowledge by progress.III. Now, this leads me to the last remark I shall make upon our natural furniture for knowledge, which is, that knowledge being progressive and dependent on ourselves; it, by that means, becomes easy to us to make advances in it, in the best and properest way that it can become so, that is, in the way that is qualified to give us the greatest pleasure. For it becomes easier to improve in knowledge, in proportion to the improvements we have made in it. Our inventive, imaginative, comparing and reasoning powers become stronger, more alert, and vigorous<61> by proper exercise. The habit of reasoning well, that is, readily and solidly, is acquired by practice in reasoning. And which is more, in consequence of having inured ourselves to accurate thinking, and of having made several advances in science, we become able to form rules to ourselves for our further progress in knowledge in the best, that is, the clearest, quickest, and surest manner.And by that science which is properly the art of reasoning. In other words, knowledge may be made easy to us by ourselves, because after we have made some progress in it, after we have exercised our enquiring, comparing and reasoning powers, for some time, about different objects; we can then make enquiring, comparing, reasoning, inventing, and laying truths together in proper order, to bring out new conclusions, the objects of our consideration; and thus we can form a science concerning science and making progress in it. A science, by the by, which ever since Plato’s time has been very much neglected in education; and very little cultivated, notwithstanding all Lord Verulam has said in his works of its nature and usefulness.a

General conclusion concerning the laws of knowledge, and our natural furniture for it.Thus then we see how excellently we are furnishedb by nature for the pleasures of knowledge, and for improving in sciences and arts; so that we may conclude, “That with regard to knowledge, (the foundation of intelligent power, dominion and activity) we are very well constituted; or that all the most important circumstances, or laws relative to our understanding, are very fitly chosen, being necessary to very great goods or perfections.”<62>

CHAPTER II

The laws relative to our embodied state, and our connexion with a material world.Let us now consider our relation to the material world, and the reciprocal dependence of our body and mind with the chief effects that result from this source.

I. First, it is evident, that relation to or connexion with a sensible world, must consist in a certain dependence on its laws, so as to be variously affected by them with pleasure and pain; or, a certain bodily organization, by means of which, certain perceptions and affections are excited in the mind. Existence would be thrown away upon a material system, if it were not perceived by minds or enjoyed by them. But the bodily fabric which is necessary to our communication with matter, must necessarily be subject to the laws of that matter.Communication with the material world necessarily supposes dependence on its laws. Whatever the frame and structure of it may be, or of whatever materials this body is composed, it must be liable to the common laws, to which the whole material part of the creation, to which it is related, is subject. Now by the late discoveries in natural philosophy, it has been proved, that the centripedal and centrifugal forces which hold our mundan system in that perfect order, which it is so beautiful to behold and contemplate, are the best in every respect that can be imagined: insomuch that no alteration can be supposed with regard to them that would not be attended with much greater irregularities and inconveniencies, than all those put together which result from the present laws.These laws are good.

In like manner, with respect to our earth, gravitation, cohesion, fermentation, to which general principles almost all its phenomena are reducible, have been shewn to be excellent laws, and that no others<63> could be substituted in their room, which would not be exceedingly for the worse.This proved by natural philosophers. In a word, it has been proved, that our mundan system in all its parts is governed by excellent general laws, in so much that all objections that have been made against its constitution and oeconomy, have either taken their rise from ignorance of its real state and frame, and of the laws by which it is actually governed; and consequently only serve to shew the absurdity ofa imaginary theories in natural philosophy; or they really terminate in demanding some change greatly to the worse. But such conclusions quite destroy all objections that can be made against our being related to and connected with the sensible world; for to be related to it, and connected with it, without being subject to its laws, is utterly impossible. It is to depend without dependence: it is to be united without any connexion. But a dependence or a connexion that produces greater good in the whole, must be a good dependence. Let us therefore see what goods, advantages or pleasures arise from our having bodies, and being capable of commerce with a material world.

A material world without being perceived could be of no use.II. But let it be observed before we proceed, that as a material world cannot be said to have order and beauty; or to be wisely contrived, but with respect to beings, who perceive it, and are affected by it; or cannot indeed be created for any end, but so far as perceptive beings have communication with it: so were there not in nature such a kind of beings as we are, nature could not be full or coherent: there would be a chasm or void in nature which could not but render it deformed and imperfect to the view of any being capable of perceiving it; who hath, like us, any idea of richness, fulness, and perfection in nature.Without beings capable of enjoying a material world, nature would not be full and coherent. For so are we made, that we cannot represent<64> nature to ourselves as perfect and beautiful, without conceiving it to be full and coherent: we cannot suppose any degree of perfection wanting in the scale of life, that can exist, without being shocked at the thought of such a deficiency, such incompleteness, such a void and breach.

By our commerce with a material world we receive a great many pleasures of the sensitive kind.III. But not only is such a being as man necessary to make the gradation in nature full and complete; but the sensible pleasures we are susceptible of by means of our bodily organization, or our senses, do well deserve their place in the scale of life and being. The more pleasures a creature is by nature made capable of, the larger provision is certainly made for its happiness: now the enjoyments we are made capable of receiving from a corporeal world, by means of our sensitive organs, are not a few: the variety of them belonging to any of our senses, as for instance, to the sight or ear, is almost innumerable. And all these senses, with all their appurtenances, are admirably adjusted to one another, to our external condition, and to our whole bodily texture, made up of them, and preserved entire by their equal nourishment and sustentation. Thus, for example, our sight, at the same time that it is capable of receiving considerable assistances from artificial instruments, is wonderfully well adapted to judge of magnitudes, distances, and other tangible qualities; it being by contact and motion only, that the mechanism of the body can suffer any injury.Our senses are admirably adjusted to one another, and to our whole frame. In like manner, all our other senses are very well adjusted to one another, and to our situation, as has been often observed by several philosophers. This is delightfully told by our excellent poet already quoted.

• Why has not man a microscopic eye?
• For this plain reason, man is not a fly:<65>
• Say, what the use, were finer opticks giv’n?
• T’ inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav’n.
• Or touch, so tremblingly alive all o’er?
• To smart and agonize at ev’ry pore.
• Or quick effluvia darting thro’ the brain?
• Die of a rose in aromatic pain.
• If nature thunder’d in his opening ears,
• And stunn’d him with the music of the spheres,
• How would he wish that heav’n had left him still
• The whisp’ring zephyr, and the purling rill?
• Who finds not providence all good and wise,
• Alike in what it gives, and what denies?

• Essay on man, Epist. 1.28

But though the pleasures our senses afford us be very many, and far from being despicable in their kind; yet the chief advantages our senses bring us, are, as they are means and instruments of sciences and arts; and the means, occasions and subjects of many excellent virtues.

Our senses are instruments of noble sciences and useful arts.I. Our communication with the sensible world is not only the source of very considerable enjoyments to us, as sensitive beings; but it is yet a source of more noble pleasures to us, as we are capable of knowledge and imitation.

By our bodily senses, our minds are rendered capable of contemplating, and of imitating by ingenious arts, many parts of a very wonderful system; many parts of a most beautiful disposition and arrangement of infinitely various objects. For how immense is the variety of the sensible world? Can there be a more delightful, or a more capacious field of study and speculation, than what the riches, the simplicity, the grandeur and perfect order of the natural world afford us?Of natural philosophy. What is greater, or more elevating, than the contemplation of nature, when we are able to take in large views of it, and comprehend its laws? How agreeably do ancient<66> philosophers expatiate upon this topic!a The study of nature, according to them, is the natural food of the soul. And they indeed justly placed a great part of man’s best happiness in contemplating and imitating the regularity, wisdom, goodness and harmony of the sensible world. They with good reason concluded from the structure of our senses, considered together with our intellectual powers, that we are made, “Ad mundum contemplandum & imitandum.”29 To contemplate, admire and imitate nature. What distinguishes our sensesa from those of the brutes, is, (as these philosophers have observed) that sense of beauty, order and harmony, with which they are united in our frame, by means of which they are not merely sensitive, but rather rational faculties. For by these outward and inward senses, as they are conjoined in our frame, we are capable of understanding the regularity and wisdom of nature; of investigating its general laws, and admiring the wonderful consent<67> of all its various parts to make one beautiful whole.And many imitative arts. Nor is this all, for we are likewise qualified by them for divers imitative arts, as poetry, painting, statuary, music, architecture, gardening, &c. from which arts do indeed arise pleasures very nearly allied to virtue, very assistant to it; and which, next to its exercises, are our noblest and most pleasing enjoyments.

They are means and subjects of many virtuous exercises.II. But our senses are yet of further and higher use in our frame, as they afford us means, occasions and materials for exercising many virtues; many kindly, benevolent and generous affections.

Of the social kind.It is in consequence of our having a corporeal frame, or of being cloathed with bodies, that we are visible, audible, and embraceable one to another; all which are sources of pleasures of a very agreeable kind, as well as of a social nature and tendency. How unembodied spirits have intercourse, is a question we cannot possibly solve; but this is certain, that our mutual correspondence is by means of our bodies. And scarcely will any one object against our frame, merely for our being thus made fit for commerce with one another, by the eyes and touch, and by the faculties of hearing and speech.

And of rational dominion over the sensitive appetites.But which is yet more, in consequence of our having bodies, various occasions arise of our mutually aiding, relieving, comforting, pleasing and gratifying one another, and of interchanging many good and friendly offices, for which there could not otherwise in the nature of things be room. And not to add more on this head, is not the regulation of our senses, and their appetites after the gratifications suited to them, a most noble exercise for our reason and moral discernment? By this means, our guiding part hath something to guide and govern: subjects committed to its trust, keeping and management; subjects to provide for, and to rule and maintain in decent and good order and<68> discipline. We have therefore, in consequence of our having bodies, amoral dominion committed to us, in which to acquit ourselves honourably, that is, wisely and prudently, or according to truth, reason, and the fitness of things, is certainly the noblest employment we can form any notion of. The spheres or employments of other beings cannot be higher in kind; the difference can only be in species, or rather in degree. For what can be conceived more great or excellent, than to have business of importance to our own happiness, and that of our kind, to manage by reason; subjects to rule and conduct for the good of the whole? And such are we ourselves to ourselves by our make; that is, such are the inferior parts of our constitution, or our bodily appetites, to that which is principal in us, our reason and moral conscience.a

Thus therefore, in consequence of our having bodies, we are not only capable of contemplating and imitating the sensible world, and of various other pleasures; but our reason hath very proper practical employment. For thus is it that we are capable of all the virtues which are justly divided by ancient moralists into Sustenenceb and Abstinence; or the power of being able to with-hold from the most inviting pleasures, if they be either pernicious in their consequences, or unbecoming our dignity: and the power of suffering any pain with magnanimity, rather than forego our reason, and contradict<69> our moral conscience, by yielding to what these pronounce base and unworthy.

All this, it is plain, supposes a moral sense in our constitution, of which something hath been already said, and that shall afterwards be considered more fully. Mean time, if it be true, that our relation to the sensible world is conducive, or rather necessary to the excellent purposes above-mentioned, it plainly follows, that a reciprocal union between our body and mind, must be morally fit and good.

But this will be yet more evident, if we consider a little some other effects, resulting from this reciprocal connexion, or from our dependence upon the laws of the sensible world, from which we receive so many pleasures, not merely of the sensitive kind.

The general law with respect to sensible pains.I. It is plain from experience, that with respect to every sensitive being, within the reach of our observation, with respect to ourselves in particular, this is the general law of nature, “That the simple productions of nature, which are useful to us, are also agreeable to us,a and the pernicious, or useless, are made disagreeable, or give pain. Our external sensations are, no doubt, often painful, when our bodies are in a dangerous state, when they want supplies of nourishment, or when any thing external would be injurious to them. But if it appears that the general laws are wisely instituted, and it be necessary to the good of a system of agents to be under the influence of general laws, upon which there is occasion for prudence and activity; the particular pains occasioned by a necessary law of sensation, can be no objection against the goodness of the author.Sensible pains whence they arise. Now that there is no room for complaint that our external sense of pain is made too acute, must appear from the multitudes we daily see<70> so careless of preserving the blessing of health, of which many are so prodigal as to lavish it away, and expose themselves to external pains for very trifling reasons. Can we repine at the friendly admonitions of nature, joined with some austerity, when we see they are scarce sufficient to restrain us from ruin?” To this let it be added, that the external and superficial parts of our bodies are the most sensible, and cause the greatest pain when they are in any wise hurtfully affected; because they are exposed to many various external objects, and do thus give us immediate notice so soon as they are affected by them; whereas the internal parts being more remote, cannot be so easily come at, and consequently are not liable to so many interruptions from without, and therefore need not such subtle sensation. Thus we experience (say anatomists) that the veins, arteries, bones, and the like, have little or no sensation at all.a

Several pains the necessary effects of a bodily organization.II. But further, let it be considered, that of whatever materials a body be composed, or whatever its particular organization may be, it must in the nature of things, be liable to as many disorders as there are means of preventing or disturbing its natural course. In general, upon the supposition of our being capable of agreeable sensation, a proportionable degree of pain must ensue, upon any defect or excess whatsoever: because, if health consist in a certain balance or order, every deviation from that order, must be sickness or disease. Pleasant sensation must be produced in some order and method; that is, in order to it, a body must have a certain texture, and there must be a certain adjustment of external objects to that texture: but the result of this must be, that in a habitation like our earth, not made for any one species of animals, but fitted<71> for a variety of beings, somethings being adjusted to bodies of a different texture from ours, cannot but be contrary in their natures to ours, and so tend to a solutio continui30 in respect of them. This is as plain and as necessary, as it is, that two parts of matter cannot tally, unless they are fitted by their make to one another. In other words, it is necessary in the nature of things, that bodies should have each a particular mechanism fitted for a certain end, or for certain enjoyments: and to every material mechanism, as there must be something congruous, in order to the having agreeable sensations; so in a material world, replenished with various animals, in order to make nature as rich and full with good as possible, some things will of necessity be incongruous, and consequently in some manner and degree pernicious to our particular mechanism, by being fitted to different bodies. For it is impossible but those objects, which are suitable to certain organizations, in order to affect them agreeably, must be incongruous to organizations of different forms; and being incongruous to them, they must have some tendency to hurt them. This is inevitably the result of the necessity of a thing’s having a certain texture, and certain qualities in a determinate degree, in order to its being suitably proportioned or congruous to another certain texture, with its qualities. All things cannot possibly be equally congruous to all different sorts of organization.

Pains are useful and proper monitors.III. But if our organization be liable to be destroyed or hurted by certain objects, in consequence of the impossibility, “That the same texture should be equally well fitted to all sorts of external impressions, that may happen through the influence of those very laws of matter and motion, which are acknowledged to be necessary to the general good and beauty of the material world, and to our receiving many pleasures of various kinds from it:” if this be<72> the case, it is certainly fit that whatever external object is pernicious, or tends to disturb and hurt the mechanism of our bodies in any considerable degree, should be signified to us by some means or other: Now the method that nature takes is this; “It is generally some pleasant sensation which teaches us what tends to our preservation and well-being; and some painful one which shews us what is pernicious;” “we are directed by uneasy appetites when our bodies stand in need of nourishment;” “and in like manner, it is by a sense of pain excited in us, that we are warned of the dangerous tendency of bruises, wounds, violent labour, and other such hurtful causes.”31

Now the fitness of our being thus warned and admonished appears, because some warning is necessary; and there can be no other but what has been mentioned, except by knowledge of the natures of things, and their aptitudes to affect us agreeably or hurtfully. But knowledge is in the nature of things progressive, and can only be acquired gradually, as has been shewn, from experience, in proportion to our situation for making observations, and taking in ideas, and to our application to gather knowledge. The knowledge of nature is wisely left to be our own acquisition; and therefore some other warning, even that mentioned by painful sensations, is absolutely necessary to us. It is only some intuitive kind of knowledge of bodies, by immediate inspection (which is hardly conceivable) that could supply the place of admonitions by pain, in order to self-preservation. And if we had such an intuitive knowledge of things as is necessary to this purpose; then no part of knowledge could be left to be our own acquisition by observation and reasoning. For what does not the intuitive knowledge, necessary to be our warner of dangerous applications or approaches to our bodies, include in it? It plainly comprehends in it an intuitive knowledge of our own body, and of all surrounding<73> objects to the influences of which it is exposed: that is, it comprehends an intuitive knowledge of the whole of nature. And consequently, having such knowledge (could we, or any creatures possibly have it, as ’tis plain from the nature of knowledge we cannot) is absolutely inconsistent with the dependence of any part of the knowledge of nature upon ourselves; or with such knowledge being in any degree our own acquisition; that is, with any thing’s being left to be matter of observation and enquiry to us, or subject of exercise to our reason. All parts of natural or real knowledge are so connected together and involved in one another, that if any part of it were attainable by us otherwise than it now is, no part of it could be attainable, as it now is, i.e. by induction, and by reasoning from properties so discovered. And would we not thus be deprived of one of our pleasantest and noblest employments and acquisitions?

From the necessity there is, that bodily appetites should be attended with uneasy sensations arises the necessity of all the other uneasy sensations accompanying our desires which are called Passions.IV. Thus then we see the fitness of our being admonished by uneasy sensations of dangers to our bodies of bodily necessities and wants: because thus we are directed and impelled to relieve and preserve ourselves in such a manner, that reason, neither hath, on the one hand, little or no employment; nor, on the other, a very disagreeable and almost insurmountable task. But it is well observed by an excellent philosopher on this head, that when a necessity of adding strong uneasy sensations to one class of appetites appears, there must appear also a like necessity of strengthning the rest in the same mind by like sensations, to keep a just ballance.32 And thus accordingly, our bodily appetites being for good reasons accompanied with uneasy sensations, our moral desires and affections are strengthened in like manner by uneasy strong sensations to maintain a just balance; so is plainly the Στοργη or natural affection to children, so is compassion or pity to the distressed, and many other moral<74> passions, that thus the public and social ones might not be too weak and feeble in proportion to those which terminate more directly and immediately in the preservation or gratification of our senses. In a constitution, where one degree of force is requisite, a proportionate degree of force in other parts becomes also necessary; otherwise the constituent parts would not bear that proportion to one another, which an equal and sound balance in the whole requires. It is the same here as with regard to antagonist muscles to counterpoise one another in the body.a

The laws of matter make an infant state of body necessary.V. Let me just add upon this head, that as for our coming into the world by the way of propagation we now do, and with weak, necessitous, infant bodies: It is a necessary result of the constitution of this material world to which we are related by our bodies; and besides the many good effects of it of the social kind which are very evident, “There is an absolute fitness, that beings made for progress in knowledge, and in every perfection by their own application and industry conjointly with assistances from society, and who consequently must enter upon the world with infant minds, should likewise enter upon it with infant bodies.”And the law of progressive perfection makes infant minds necessary. How very unequally otherwise would our bodies and minds be yoked? How improper companions and mates would they be? As for death, what may be inferred concerning it, shall be considered, when having enquired into all the other principal laws relative to our present state, we are able to take a complete view of it. In the mean time, it is obvious, that death, or the dissolution of our bodily texture, in whatever way it happens, is always the result of our subjection to some of the laws of matter and motion, to which our union with the sensible world necessarily subjects<75> us, and to which are owing all the pleasures we receive from it in our present embodied state.

The dependence of mental powers and dispositions on the body.VI. The other remarkable phenomenon with respect to our union with a material world is, “The dependence of genius, temper, and mental abilities upon the temperature of the body, air, diet, and other such physical causes.” That a variety of mental temperatures, turns, dispositions and abilities prevail among mankind, will not be called into doubt. And as it is certain, that different textures of eyes must see differently; or every object must necessarily partake of the colour with which the eye itself is tainted:A great variety in respect of these among mankind. so variety in temperature, texture and mould, (so to speak) among minds, must necessarily produce great variety of conceptions, sentiments and judgments, and consequently of inclinations, appetites and dispositions. For, such as the soil is, such will the flavour of the fruit be in the natural world; and by like necessity in the moral, all the impressions, sentiments, judgments, and passions of a mind will be correspondent to its prevailing humour and character: they will necessarily partake in some degree of it. And, hence it is, that every man’s turn of thinking is as distinguishable as his face or gate from that of every other: there are as few minds as faces that have not very peculiar and distinguishing features.a

How far that variety arise from and depends on physical causes.Now, that differences among minds, in texture and character, abilities and dispositions, are no less necessary to the well-being of society, and variety of beauty and good in it, than differences in complexions and countenances, is very evident at first sight, has been already hinted, and will appear more fully when we come to consider the laws of our nature relative to society. All therefore that belongs to the present question is, how far differences among minds<76> depend upon different textures, and temperaments of bodies, and physical causes, and how and why it is so?

I. I do not indeed pretend, that there may not be a great variety of genius’s, characters and abilities among pure, unembodied spirits of the same species: on the contrary, wherever there is community, such diversity is absolutely requisite: a moral, as well as a natural whole, must consist of various parts, fitted by their very differences to one another, and to one common end.The great extent of this dependence is generally owned. But it is manifest that the diversity among mankind in genius, temper and abilities, depends, if not totally, yet to a very great degree and extent, upon bodily constitution and mechanical causes. This is so true, that many philosophers have from hence contended, that all is matter and motion; or that we are wholly body. Such an inference is indeed absurd, but the facts from which it is drawn are beyond all dispute; so palpable are they to every one’s feeling and experience. “Each different nation has its national characteristic,a not merely in the features of the face and texture of the body, but likewise in temper and turn of mind.” “Every man is hot or cold, slow or active, phlegmatic or choleric, lively or dull, amorous and delicate, or dull and insensible, correspondently to the temper of his body, his native climate, &c.” “Air and diet change men’s dispositions as much as their bodily habit; a disease, or a blow, do not make a greater alteration in the outward than in the inward man.” Government, civil policy, and religion more especially, have no doubt a very great influence in<77> forming men’s tempers; but, on the other hand, it was never questioned, that the temper of the body, the soil, climate, and many other physical causes have had a very considerable share in originally determining different people into different forms of government, and distinct establishments with regard to civil and religious policy, by their influences upon genius and temper.

In fine, it is undeniable, that imagination, memory, and the strength of appetites, very much depend upon bodily habit; and, on the other hand, bodily temperature and habit, depend exceedingly on the exercises of the imagination and appetites; upon the employments, habits, and character of the mind. “Let physicians and anatomists, (says an excellent author)a explain the several motions of the fluids and solids of the body which accompany any passion; or the temperaments of body, which either make men prone to any passion, or are brought upon us by the long continuance or frequent returns of it. ’Tis only to our purpose, in general, to observe, That probably certain motions of the body do accompany every passion by a fixed law of nature, and alternately, that temperament which is apt to receive or prolong these motions in the body, does influence our passions to heighten or prolong them. Thus a certain temperament may be brought upon the body by its being frequently put into motion by the passions of anger, joy, love or sorrow; and the continuance of this temperament make men prone to these several passions for the future.”It is well worth while to enquire more fully into it. Were this dependence of the body and mind more studied, and its effects collected and ranged into proper order; no doubt, we would be able to form a better judgment of it, and see further into the good purposes to which it serves; for the greater advances have hitherto been made in any branches of physical<78> philosophy, the more instances do we perceive of excellent contrivance and kind oeconomy.

Mean time, it is evident, that such a dependence is involved in the very idea of union of mind with body.II. Mean time, as the fact, in general, is certain from many experiments, so it is evident, there can be no mutual union of body and mind without reciprocal dependence; and their reciprocal dependence cannot take place without laws, fixing and determining connexions between all the possible changes in the body, and certain correspondent changes in the mind; and alternately between all possible conditions of the mind, and certain correspondent alterations in the bodily part. All this is involved in the very notion of regular and mutual dependence. Consequently the only question with regard to our present union with a material world by means of our bodies is, 1. Whether, in consequence of these laws, we are not capable of very considerable pleasures, which otherwise could not possibly have place in nature? for did we not exist, in the present embodied state we are now in, the sensible world we are capable of enjoying in so many different ways, as rational as well as sensitive beings, could not exist. And, 2. Whether the pains we suffer, in consequence of this union, be not the necessary effects of the union itself, and the best, that is, the fitest admonitions we can have of what is necessary to our sustenance and well-being? for such pains cannot be called evils with respect to the whole system; but, on the contrary, being the effects of good general laws, are goods. To both which questions a sufficient answer hath been given.

The good consequence of this dependence of our minds on body and physical connexions.III. To all which let it be added, that from the dependence of our mind upon body and physical causes, there arises this good consequence, “That, whereas the tempers, characters, abilities, and dispositions of our minds, would be utterly unalterable by us, if they were not dependent in that manner upon us; being<79> so dependent, they may in a great measure be changed by our own proper care; or to do so only requires, that we should give due attention to the natural connexions on which they depend; and conformably to them take proper measures to make fit changes.” That is to say, changing and reforming our minds, as far as mind depends upon body, depends on ourselves, because it depends upon knowledge of nature we may acquire, and right use of such knowledge. It is often regreted by ancient philosophers,a that the dependence of body and mind, as evidently as its extent discovers itself in many cases, is so little studied and enquired into by philosophers. Were it, say they, more carefully attended to and considered, the medicinal art would extend further than to the body: it would be able to do great services to the mind, by proper applications to the body, or by proper external regimens and discipline. Upon this occasion, they have expressed a very high opinion, not only of certain gymnastic exercises, but of the power of music in particular; and seem to think, that very advantageous uses might be made of that art, in several cases, for delivering the mind from disorders; or for purging and refining the passions; calming, quieting, cheering, and strengthning the mind.

True morality must therefore consider man as a compound creature; or his body and mind as reciprocally dependent.But let that be as it will, tho’ the science we have now been speaking of (the medicine of the mind, and that part of natural knowledge, from which alone it can be deduced) be very much neglected, yet from what hath been said of the dependence of<80> body and mind, it plainly appears, why the best ancient moralists, as well as the christian religion, recommend severe bodily discipline, in order to form, establish, preserve, and corroborate virtuous habits. Such must the morality be that belongs to beings of our compound make. Precepts not inferred from the human constitution, must be idle and vain, they cannot appertain to us. To forget in directions about our conduct, that we are rational beings, is indeed to forget our most essential and noble part: but, on the other hand, to forget in moral precepts, that we are likewise sensitive, embodied beings, is to leave out in morality, which ought to be founded upon the nature of beings, a very essential and important part of our make. It is therefore no wonder, if such morality prescribes rules to us, that are either above our practice, or insufficient to gain that purpose which ought to be the end of all rules relative to our conduct; namely, acting agreeably to our frame, or in a manner becoming our rank and conducive to our happiness. That must necessarily be the case, when our make is not strictly kept in view, in laying down precepts for our observance. Now this is plainly our rank; we are neither wholly moral, nor wholly sensitive beings; but a compound of moral and sensitive powers and affections reciprocally dependent upon one another: man is, as some philosophers have very properly expressed it; Nexus utriusque mundi.33 And the excellence of the christian morality consists in this, that in all its precepts man is considered and advised as such a being.

• The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find)
• Is not to act, or think beyond mankind;
• No pow’rs of body, or of soul to share,
• But what his nature, and his state can bear.

• Essay on man, Epist. 1.34 <81>

General conclusion concerning their laws.All the observations that have been made by natural philosophers upon the animal oeconomy of the human body, the different bodily oeconomies of other animals suited to their various states, and, in general, upon the wise contrivance and good order of the sensible world might very properly have been collected and inserted here. But the preceeding remarks will prepare every intelligent reader for making a proper use, and seeing the full extent of such observations; and from what has been said, we may justly conclude, “That the laws relating to our embodied state, and our connexion with the material or sensible world, are either necessary or fit: many excellent effects result from them, and none of the effects of good general laws can be evil, absolutely considered, that is, with respect to the whole.”

CHAPTER III

A third class of laws.Let us proceed to consider the laws of our nature relative to the association of ideas, and the formation of habits.

These relative to the association of ideas and habits.There are two things very remarkable in our nature; “The association of ideas, or the difficulty with which ideas that have been often presented to the mind together are afterwards disjoined;” and, “The formation of habits by repeated acts; or a facility in doing, and a propension to reiterate the same action contracted by frequent doing it.”

Both these take their rise from one principle.These two effects are very similar or like: they both include in their nature a certain kind of cohesion with the mind, formed by reiterated con-junction or co-existence between objects really separate and distinct from one another; i.e. that do not necessarily co-exist, or are not naturally parts of one<82> whole. And as they are like to one another, so they must go together; or neither of them can take place in a mind without the other. If habits are contracted by repeated acts, ideas will be joined or mixed by repeated concurrence: and reciprocally, if ideas contract a sort of coherence by being often joined, habits must be formed by frequent repetition of acts. This is plain. For,

I. Unless the mind were so framed, that ideas frequently presented together to it, should afterwards naturally continue to recal one another, to blend or return together, habits could not be contracted.They must both go together. Thus, for instance, the habit of taking snuff, could not take place, did not the returns of certain perceptions recal the idea and desire of snuff. And the case must be the same with regard to all other habits; for all habits, of whatever kind, operate the same way. The reason is, because all actions of the mind are excited by and employed about ideas; and an action cannot be reiterated, unless its object and motive be revived. A propension to any action is nothing else but the frequent return of a certain desire, which necessarily supposes the equally frequent returns of the ideas which excite it, and are the subject of it: and facility in acting, in like manner, supposes the easy and quick return of the ideas that induce to the action, and are its subject. The formation of habits therefore supposes the association of ideas to take place. But,

II. If association of ideas take place, habits must necessarily be formed by repeated acts. For, if we attend to the matter strictly, we shall immediately find, that the whole course of what is called action, or a series of action, (the wills to act or make efforts to act alone excepted) is nothing but a train of passive perceptions or ideas. But ideas, as often as they return, must excite certain affections, and the<83> affections which lead to action, must, as often as they are revived, dispose and excite to act; or, in other words, produce will to act. And if will to act be successful, the train of perceptions called action, must succeed; and, by frequently succeeding in this manner, cohesion or association must be formed of this kind, that is, associations that terminate in action must be contracted.

Those effects called the association of ideas and formation of habits, do therefore resolve themselves into the same general law or principle in our nature, which may be called thealaw of custom.

But whatever the cause be, one or more, these effects are certain.But, whether they are reduced to one or different principles, nothing can be more certain; than that ideas are associated by being frequently conjoined, in such a manner, that it is not easy to prevent their mixing so together as to make one perception, or, at least, their coherence and joint return to the mind; and that habits are formed by repeated acts. Now, nothing can be of greater use in our frames, than the principle or principles from which these effects arise.Both proceed from a most useful principle. For, what can be more evident, than that were we not so constituted, we could not attain to perfection in any science, art, or virtue? It<84> would not be in our power to join and unite ideas at our pleasure, to recal past ones, or to lay up a stock of knowledge in our minds to which we could have recourse upon any occasion, and bring forth, as it were, ready money for present use. Nor would it be in our power by all our reiterated acts to become more ready, alert, and expeditious in performing any operation than at our first attempt; but, in every thing, and on every emergence, after ever so much past labour, all our work would constantly be to begin again. In one word, habits are perfected faculties: or faculties perfected by exercise are habits.A principle that may justly be called the law of perfection. So that the law of habits is really the law of improvement to perfection; and is therefore a most excellent, a most useful law.

All this is very obvious. But so extremely, so universally useful is this part of our frame, that its well worth while to examine it more fully, and take a larger view of its effects. We shall therefore first consider some of the principal phenomena belonging to the association of ideas.

I. And, in order to proceed distinctly, let us be sure that we carry along with us a clear idea of the thing itself.

Associated ideas defined, and distinguished from complex ideas, &c.Sensible ideas or qualities, which by their co-existence make the same object, (as, for instance, it is a particular shape, size, colour, taste, and other combined qualities in the same subject that make a peach) are not said to be associated, because they naturally and really co-exist, or naturally and really make the same object.a

Nor is the complex idea which we have of a peach, after having tasted several, that is immediately excited in us by the sight of it, before we touch or taste it, called an associated idea; tho’ the greater part of it consists of ideas not perceived, but imagined;<85> because the qualities imagined do really belong to the peach. We are much indebted to the wonderful quickness of our fancy, in adding several qualities on such occasions to those really perceived, to compleat our ideas. But such supplies, by the imagination to any of our sensible ideas, as intimately as they unite and blend with them, are not called ideas of association, because whatever is thus added by the imagination to the perceptions of sense, is a copy of a sensible quality really appertaining to the object perceived.

But, if a peach having been often presented to us on agreeable occasions, should become ever afterwards exceedingly more desireable than before, by recalling to our mind these agreeable circumstances; then is the whole idea of a peach that thus excites our desire and greatly pleases us, compounded of the real qualities of a peach, and of these other delightful ideas not belonging to it, but suggested to, or excited in our imagination by it. Or contrariwise, if a peach which was formerly very agreeable, having been frequently presented to us on melancholly occasions, shall ever afterwards recal to our minds these disagreeable circumstances, and so become hateful to us; then the idea of a peach is compounded of uneasy ideas that overballance all its good and formerly desireable qualities, or that so entirely possess the mind, that there is no room for these qualities to enter into it.

Almost all our ideas have something in them of the associated kind.In both these and all such cases our ideas are made up of real and associated ingredients, or compounded of parts, some of which do really belong to the object, and others do not, but are added by the mind itself: they are made up of ingredients that have no natural or necessary coherence, but that cohere or are mixed by customary association.

III. The instances that have been given, in order to determine the meaning of association, are indeed<86> but trifling and of little moment. But the thing itself in its full extent is of the greatest consequence. For if we consider our ideas with due attention, and take the trouble to analyse them, we shall find that very few, if any of the ideas, that excite our warmest and keenest affections, are quite free from associated parts. The greater number of our perceptions, however agreeable or disagreeable, are of the associated kind in some degree. How many, how very many of them are like the peaches we have mentioned, chiefly agreeable or disagreeable in consequence of some things united with them, that do not belong to them? We can scarcely name any one that offers itself quite pure and unmixed; or which has no constituent parts of the kind we are now speaking of. But affections, that is, desires or aversions, will always be proportioned to the good or evil qualities comprehended in the ideas by which they are excited.

Where this necessarily happens.That few or none of our ideas can escape some mixture by association, if we are not continually upon our guard to prevent it, is obvious. For where the law of association takes place, the concomitant circumstances in which ideas have frequently occurred to the mind, must become constant parts or attendants of these ideas, if we are not assiduously upon the watch against such association. This is the natural result, or rather the direct meaning of the law. But, what is the whole frame and course of nature, or what else indeed can it be but a constant occasion to us of association, i.e. of mixture or coherence of ideas? It cannot but be so, because no idea can be presented to the mind singly, that is, without preceeding, concomitant and succeeding circumstances; and in a world governed by uniform laws, and filled with beings of analogous natures and employments, no idea can fail of being often presented to the mind in the same or like circumstances.It is the necessary effect of the world’s being governed by general uniform laws. There are many associations that are entirely of our own<87> making; but, suppose we made none, it would be sufficient employment for us, either in order to have true knowledge or well proportioned affections, to be incessantly upon our guard to prevent the blendings and cohesions of ideas, that the regular course of things in the world naturally tends, in consequence of the law of association, to form or engender in our minds. Every one who is acquainted with philosophy, knows, that the great difficulty in attaining to the true knowledge of things,Natural philosophy consists in a great measure, in separating associations which the order of nature necessarily produces in our minds. take its rise from the difficulty of separating ideas into the parts that naturally belong to one another, and those which are added by association. For without such analysis, no object can be defined, distinguished, nor consequently examined, and so understood. And yet ideas, in consequence of the law of association, must, from the very beginning of our existence, so blend and mix with others totally and essentially distinct from them, that it must become extreamly difficult not to confound together qualities that being different, can never be philosophised about, till we are not only able to distinguish them, but to keep them before the mind without intermingling and quite separate. In reality, the greater part of philosophy consists in separating ideas, that the natural course of things, in consequence of the law of association, hath conjoined, or rather confounded. Many instances might be given to prove this, were it at all necessary. The jangling about beauty among philosophers, whether it is distinct or not from utility, is a sufficient proof of it; and yet into what science does not this dispute necessarily enter? There is no reasoning about poetry, painting, or any of the polite arts, or indeed about morality, without being led into it. But what sufficiently proves it, is the difficulty most persons find in their entrance upon philosophy in distinguishing the qualities perceived by any one sense from those perceived by any other. How few, not very much accustomed to philosophy, are not startled to hear that<88> distance is not an idea of sight, but an idea of touch suggested by ideas of sight! And yet, till this is clearly understood, and the difference is become familiar to the mind, it is impossible to have a clear notion of very many important truths in perspective and optics. But if philosophers find a difficulty arising from the effect of the law of association in analysing ideas; we all find a much greater one from the same source in the conduct of the passions. For here, how difficult, how extreamly difficult is it to separate associations early made and long unquestioned?Separating associations one great business in moral philosophy. Or, what indeed is the whole of our labour in regulating the passions; in correcting, reforming, or directing them; but an endeavour to render our passions suitable and proportioned to the natures of things, as they are in themselves distinguished from all wrong associations? What else is discipline or government with respect to the love of wealth, of power, of show, of fame; or any one of our desires private or public, but an effort to have just opinions of objects; and so to have affections suitable to their true values? But, how can we have suitable affections till their true values are known ? And, how can the true values of objects be ascertained, till the ideas of them are scrutinized, and every superadded ingredient by association is separated from the qualities that belong to the thing itself? Then only can the objects themselves be understood, or their moments be measured either with respect to quantity or duration.

This must needs be the effect of general laws upon minds made likewise to associate ideas.Now, I say, a great number of those associations, which it is of such importance either in philosophy or moral conduct to be able to distinguish to be such, are the necessary effects of the law of association, in consequence of the natural course of things, which we cannot alter. And it is no otherwise therefore in our power to prevent them, than by constant attendance to the manner in which ideas enter, and so are apt to mix or cohere; or by assiduous practice<89> in examining our ideas daily received. For the circumstances in which ideas are presented to us, are in many instances absolutely independent of us. And yet such is the nature of the law of association, that ideas, ever so few times offered to us in certain circumstances, have a tendency as often as they return, whether by being recalled by our own will, or without being so recalled, to return with more or fewer of the circumstances with which they had formerly occurred. But a late excellent author hath so fully treated of association, so far especially as the conduct of the passions is concerned, that I need not be more particular.a

These difficulties arising from the law of association, are no objections against its fitness.IV. But perhaps it will be said, that what hath hitherto been suggested, is rather an objection against the law under consideration, than a defence of it. For are not all the difficulties it necessarily involves us in, so many evils or inconveniencies arising from it?

But let us observe the concatenation of things with regard to the human make, or how the several laws of the moral world hang and must hang together. Knowledge must, in the nature of things, be progressive; and our excellence consists in its being acquirable gradually by our own industry to improve in it. The laws of nature make it necessary that we should come into the world with infant bodies; and the law of progressiveness makes it necessary that we should enter into the world with infant minds; and in this respect, the laws of matter and motion, and the laws of the moral world, are admirably adjusted one to another. But if the law of association likewise take place with these other laws; then, in consequence of all these laws operating together, it is impossible but several associations of ideas must be formed in our minds, before reason is grown up by culture, and we are able to attend to the entrance of our ideas, and the manner<90> in which they associate; that is, mix, join and cohere. The course of nature’s laws with respect to the material world, is found, upon enquiry, to be very regular, beautiful and good, the best that can be conceived. But any uniform course of things must produce associations of ideas, in minds where that aptitude called the associating one obtains. Now that the law of association is an excellent law, has been already proved: it is The law of improvement to perfection.

But its fitness and goodness will yet more fully appear from the following considerations.

Several good effects of this law.I. It is plainly in consequence of this law, that we so quickly learn the connexions established by nature between the ideas of different senses, those of the sight and touch, for instance; so as that we are very soon able, even in our infant state, to judge of such appearances and connexions with great facility, ease and quickness, and with as great accuracy as the exigencies of our life require. Those connexions and appearances, by which we judge immediately of magnitudes, distances, forms, and other qualities, may be called the language of nature, signifying these qualities. And it is by means of the law of association, that appearances, found by repeated experience to be connected with effects, do recal those effects to our minds, with which they have been found to be connected, so soon as they recur, or are re-perceived.Without it we could never become acquainted with the course of nature; every thing would for ever be new to us. It is, indeed, in consequence of the law of association, that we learn any of the connexions of nature; or that any appearance with its effects, is not as new to us at all times as at first; that is, as unfamiliar to our mind. It is owing to it that any appearance immediately suggests its concomitants and subsequents to us; and that we thus become acquainted with nature, in proportion to the attention we give to the course of<91> things in it; and so are able, by means of one or more perceptions, to recal a great many connected with it, before they appear; or while they are yet at a distance from us, and to be brought about by many intermediate steps. But what could we do, how miserable, how ignorant would we be, without this faculty? without it we would plainly continue to be in old age, as great novices to the world as we are in our infancy; as incapable to foresee, and consequently as incapable to direct our conduct.

Unravelling ideas of association is a very agreeable employment.But, secondly, The examination of our ideas when we are grown up, is a very pleasant employment to us. What can be more entertaining, than to trace our ideas, as far as we can, to their origine; to the various manners of their entrance into our minds; and to resolve them into their constituent parts; and so separate the associated ones from those which by natural and essential coexistence make an object itself. A regular course of things will necessarily produce associations of ideas in minds so formed as to have an associating quality or aptitude. But one of the pleasantest and noblest employments of reasonable beings must consist in studying nature. And studying nature must in a great measure consist in separating our ideas received from experience, into those that are ideas of qualities making particular objects by their co-existence or real combination; and those that are compounded, partly of such really coexisting qualities, and partly of other ideas blended or cohering with them, in consequence of associations formed by their having been often presented to the mind at the same time with other really coexistent qualities. For thus alone can we distinguish connexions in nature that are really inseparable, and make a fixed, regular course or succession of causes and effects, from every thing that does not appertain to such connexions; but however it may be<92> joined to any such in our minds by custom, is no part of them; but is, with respect to them, wholly accidental.

It is in consequence of the law of association, that we are capable of strengthening or diminishing our desires, of adding to our pleasures, and of alleviating our pains.III. Which is yet of greater moment to us; it is by means of the law of association, or of our associating power, that we are able to strengthen or diminish our desires; and to encrease our pleasures, or diminish our pains. For the aggregate of pleasure or pain an idea gives us, will be in proportion to the quantity of pleasure or pain it contains: that is, it is the sum of the pleasures or pains which are its component parts: and our desires or aversions will be stronger or weaker, according as the ideas exciting them are more or less agreeable or disagreeable. Now pleasures associated to an idea will encrease the quantity of agreeableness in that whole complex, blended or mixt idea. And in like manner, pains associated to an idea will encrease the quantity of disagreeableness or uneasiness arising from that whole complex, blended or mixt idea; as parts make up a whole: so that had we not the power of adding to, or taking from our ideas, we could have no power over our affections or desires: for these must always be according to our ideas; but all the power we can have over ideas is by compounding, associating, and separating.Because desires are excited by ideas, and our power over ideas lies chiefly in associating and separating. And how great power we have in these respects, almost every virtuous or vicious affection amongst mankind is a proof. For what, on the one hand, are luxurious fancies, excessive love of splendor, voluptuousness, romantic love, and the immoderate lust of power, but extravagant desires, excited by ideas of grandeur and happiness, somehow blended with natural pleasures, and the desires these excite? Or what, on the other hand, are patience, magnanimity, a contented mind, and other such vertues, but affections towards certain natural objects, duly moderated by the consideration of their intrinsic values, and of the strength of desire proportioned to them; by separating<93> from them all ideas that tend to encrease desire beyond that due proportion; and by associating to them all the ideas, opinions and judgments, that tend to maintain and preserve desire in a just tone and ballance, with relation to true happiness? How does patience work? How can it work, but by alleviating considerations? And what is it, for instance, makes poverty doubly painful to one, and to another a very supportable state, but different ideas in their minds, connected with mediocrity of circumstances in respect of outward enjoyments, by means of different associations? But indeed Mr. Hutcheson hath quite exhausted this subject.35 We shall therefore only observe further on this head,

Another circumstance with respect to association.IV. That as associations of various sorts must necessarily be formed in the mind, by the natural course of things, absolutely independent of us; so various associations must produce various tempers and dispositions of mind; since every idea, as often as it is repeated, must move the affection it naturally tends to excite; and ideas, with their correspondent affections, often returning, must naturally form inclinations, propensions, or tempers; for temper means nothing else. But with respect to the law of association, there is a circumstance which we have not hitherto taken notice of; (because association strictly considered, is no more but a league, or cohesion, formed by frequent conjunction in the mind) which is very contributive to the formation of various genius’s and tempers among mankind; and that circumstance is likeness or resemblance of ideas. Though frequent concurrence be sufficient, as has been observed, to produce the effect called association, yet nothing is more certain, than that association is more easily engendered between ideas that have some affinity or likeness, than between those which have no kindred, no resemblance; as we may feel in a thousand instances.Like ideas are easily associated. Now if we carefully attend to the human mind, we shall find, that the aptitude to associate<94> like ideas which have the smallest resemblances; and the aptitude to separate ideas which have the minutest differences, not only make a very great diversity in minds with respect to genius; but likewise with regard to moral temper.Wit and judgment defined. Wit is justly defined to consist in the quick and ready assemblage of such ideas as have any analogy, likeness, or resemblance, especially in those circumstances which are not commonly attended to, so that the resemblance, when it is pointed out, at once strikes by its evidence, and surprizes by its uncommonness. Judgment, on the other hand, is rightly said to lie in nicely distinguishing the disagreements and variances or differences of ideas; those especially which lie more remote from common observation, and are not generally adverted to.But suppose the law of association to take place. The witty person may therefore be said to be one, who hath an aptitude of mind to associate ideas which have any affinity, or rather a ready discernment of the resemblances of ideas, in respects not absolutely glaring to all persons, and yet evident and pleasing to all, when pointed out to their observation by such a quick and acute discerner of likenesses. On the other hand, the man of judgment or discretion (for so discretion properly signifies) may be defined to be one who has a particular aptitude to discry differences of all kinds between objects, even the most hidden and remote from vulgar eyes. Now however these different aptitudes may be acquired, or in whatever respects they may be original, cogenial or unacquired; it is manifest that they make a very real difference in character or genius.It is therefore in consequence of the law of association that there are different genius’s. They have very different effects, and produce very different works; and they presuppose the law of association. The improvement of the one, certainly very much depends upon accustomance to assemble and join; and the improvement of the other upon accustomance to disunite, break and separate.

But there is in respect of moral character a parallel variety; some here also are propense to associating, and others to disjoining. Nay as the great variety of genius’s<95> may be in general divided into the aptitude to associate, and the aptitude to dissociate: so, perhaps, almost all the different moral characters among mankind may be reduced to the like general division, that is, to the associating and dissociating aptitude. For as a turn to assemble resemblances of different kinds (suppose of the soft and tender, or of the horrible and violent, the serious or ridiculous) makes different species of genius, the epic, comic, tragic, humorous, &c. so dispositions to conjoin ideas of different kinds, will necessarily make an equal variety of moral tempers and characters; the chearful, the melancholy, the cowardly and timorous, or the daring and adventurous, and so forth.It gives rise to an equal diversity of moral characters. But one who naturally delights, or by usage comes to delight, in any one kind of assemblages, will be averse to its opposites: and excessive delight in any one, will become a particular extravagance to be guarded against. In like manner, a turn or propension to disunite ideas admits of as great variety as there is variety of differences to be discerned, and consequently there may be as great a diversity of minds each bent towards distinguishing, as there are separations of various sorts to be made. And every one of these separating propensions, may by over-indulgence run into extravagance; and often does.But so far as temper depends on association, it depends on ourselves. By pursuing this reflexion, we may see how far variety of tempers and genius’s among mankind depends upon, and may take its rise from the associating power natural to the mind, in consequence of different circumstances calling it forth, or employing it in different ways, or contrariwise, checking it, disappointing and thwarting it, and thus obliging the mind to make frequent dissociations; and so using it to the separating practice, till it comes to take delight in it, insomuch that it is ever disposed to act that part, and rather chuses to distinguish than to join, on every occasion. But not to stay longer on this observation, let me only add, that on<96> the one hand, from what has been said of wit, it is plain, that it could not take place, were it not for the associating power of the mind. And how, indeed, do poetry or oratory entertain or agitate, or wherein does their chief excellence consist, whether with respect to soothing and extending the imagination, or bestirring and moving the passions, but in associating the ideas, which being assembled together make agreeable, pleasant, charming, well suited company; in associating ideas which enlighten and set off one another, and by being fitly and closely joined, create great warmth in the mind, or put it into agreeable motion.Metaphor and simile are associations.Simile is likeness of ideas, pointed out, as it were, by the finger: and metaphor is a resemblance of ideas, that presents itself to the mind without any forewarning, and is doubly agreeable, like good company, by surprizing.Philosophy is separating work. On the other hand, from what hath been said of judgment, it is evident that its work supposes likewise the law of association, because it consists in separating; and the philosophical turn being towards scanning, sifting and distinguishing, when carried to excess, must become an enemy to all joining and uniting, as ordinarily happens.Both may run into extravagances.

But whatever be as to these things, it is certain from the nature of the law now under consideration,

Practical philosophy, or the conduct of the affections, consists in the assiduous examination of our ideas, fancies and opinions.I. That true practical philosophy consistsa in what it was placed by the ancients: in the assiduous examination of our fancies, ideas or opinions. For<97> by these our desires are guided or influenced: all our desires, whether those which are properly called appetites, having a previous, painful or uneasy sensation, antecedently to any opinion of good in the object; or those which necessarily presuppose an opinion of good and evil in their objects; all our desires, whether after external pleasures, pleasures of the imagination, or pleasures of the public and social sense. For this must hold in general concerning all our desires and aversions, that according to the opinion or apprehension of good or evil, the desire or aversion is increased or diminished. Now if this be true, our great interest and concern lies in taking care of our opinions, that they be true and just. This ought to be the whole business of our life; our continual, our daily employment: otherwise we cannot be masters of our desires, or keep them in just and proportionate order.Education ought to establish that habit of self-examination. And how happy would it be for men, if education was rightly managed, so as to give us early just notions of things, as far as life is concerned; or but even to establish early in our minds the habit of calling our ideas and opinions daily to a strict account! But all this, it is obvious, supposes a reasonableness and unreasonableness in associations; or a rule and standard for associating and dissociating. And if it is asked what this rule or standard may be? the answer is, It is the faculty by which we are able to judge both of our happiness, and of what is becoming us, of which we are afterwards to treat, and where it shall be shewn, “That these two, happiness or interest, and becoming or virtue, are the same, or at least inseparably connected.” We are to associate and dissociate, join and separate according to that rule; or as our happiness and dignity require.

Associations cannot be broken by mere confutation of false opinions.II. But, secondly, let it be observed, an association is made by joining ideas with one another frequently, and by accustoming ourselves to contemplate<98> them so joined and united. But the confutation of false opinions is not sufficient to break an association, so that the desire or passion shall not continue after our understanding has suggested to us that the object is not good, or not proportioned to the strength of the desire. Thus we may observe, that persons who by reasoning have laid aside all opinion of spirits being in the dark more than in the light, are still uneasy to be alone in the dark. And it is so in general, with respect to all associations: we must first, indeed, correct the false opinion, from which the unreasonable desire or aversion proceeds: but this is not enough: the association cannot be broken in any case, but, as in that instance just mentioned; by accustoming ourselves to walk in the dark, with the absurdity of the opinion upon which our aversion or fear was formerly founded present to our mind.But by contrary practice. Ideas which have been long associated, can only be disjoined by frequently acting in opposition to the unreasonable association. Now if it should be enquired why, whereas associations are so easily formed merely by ideas being frequently presented conjunctly to the mind; dissociations however are not brought about without great struggle and difficulty.Why it is so. The reply to this is at hand: were not this the case, the law of association would not gain its end: for it is the difficulty of breaking the association, which is the very end of the law, or produces all its good effects.

Of active habits properly so called.I now proceed to consider some effects, which though habits and association of ideas are really one and the same thing, and really resolve into one principle; yet are in common language called active habits. For by that name are all associations of ideas called, which terminate in what is termed action either of the mind or of the body. Now provided, on this head, we make mention of the most remarkable phenomena belonging to it, it is but of<99> little consequence in what order effects so nearly related to one another are proposed.

Hence memory, habitual knowledge.I. It is in consequence of a propension to do, and a facility and readiness in doing, acquired by repeated exercise called the Law of habits, that we have memory and habitual knowledge, learn languages with tolerable ease, attain to grace of body, as in dancing; to a good ear in music, a Taste of every kind.good eye in painting or architecture, and a good taste of any ingenious composition, as in oratory or poetry. For what else is memory, but the power of recalling with facility and quickness ideas and truths we had formerly discovered or perceived? and how is it strengthened or improved but by exercise? Without memory there can be no invention, judgment, nor wit, because without memory ideas cannot be readily and quickly laid together, in order to be compared, that their agreements and resemblances, or disagreements and differences, may be discerned. And what is taste, but the power of judging truly with quickness acquired by frequent consideration and practice: that is, confirmed into habit by repeated acts?And perfection of whatever faculty. In fine, it is in consequence of this law, or formation of our mind, that the reiterated exercises of any of our faculties are not lost labour, but produce perfection. Attention, judging, reasoning, writing, speaking, composing, in one word, all our powers and actions in their perfection are so many respective habits: and therefore, to ask why the mind is so framed, is to ask, why perfection of any kind is attainable by us, or within our power.Instruction and education presuppose the power of habit. Instruction and education presuppose this frame of mind in the rules laid down with regard to them: and the effect of education, or early accustomance is well expressed by the common proverb, which calls it, A second nature. To exemplify this observation, and at the same time to shew what true logic ought to be, and really was among the<100> ancients, I shall just mention two observations of Cicero,a with regard to the improvement of memory by due exercise. 1. The way, says he, to be able to retain ideas and judgments, so as to have the use of them always at our command, is to accustom ourselves to attend to things with great closeness and stedfastness; and to ask ourselves before we quit the consideration of any object, whether it is not worth while to store it up in the mind.An observation on memory to illustrate this. And if it be, we ought (says he) as it were, formally to charge our memory with the custody of it, for certain particular reasons and uses, to be at the same time laid up in the mind with it. Did we take this method, we should have but little reason to complain of the slipperiness and treachery of memory. But we, it seems, expect it should be strong and perfect, without our taking pains to improve it: that is, we expect a habit to be formed, otherwise than by repeated exercise. 2. What would be of great help to memory, according to the same author, is, not letting any object of importance pass, till we have considered its analogies, relations, and oppositions, with respect to several other objects or truths already of our acquaintance. For by so doing, there necessarily would be, in consequence of the law of habits and association of ideas, various securities for our being able to recal it, in proportion to the variety of analogies, relations, agreements, differences and oppositions to other objects we had observed in it. Technical rules for assisting<101> and improving memory, are founded upon the same principle, viz. the law of habits. But there is this manifest difference between them, and those rules of Cicero: That while, in order to help memory, we are imployed in considering many real analogies and oppositions, we really are at the same time increasing our stock of useful knowledge, and improving our inventive faculty. For does not a great part of science consist in the knowledge of analogies and oppositions among objects? What else is knowledge? And wherein does the perfection of the inventive faculty consist, but in being able to assemble ideas together into proper order, with great facility and quickness, in order to discover hitherto unobserved relations of ideas, by seeing them in new positions?

We are imitative creatures, but it is in consequence of the law of habits, that imitation hath its effect.II. It is in consequence of the law of habits, that imitation passes into custom, and that example has such powerful influence upon our temper and behaviour. Nature hath wisely made us imitative creatures, apes, if I may so speak. But our disposition to imitate would be of no use to us, did not repeated imitations produce habitual conformity to what we imitate. Quintilian gives an excellent advice with regard to imitation, when speaking of stage-actors he tells us, that among them it frequently happens, “imitatio in mores transit.”36 He on this occasion sagely advises, for that reason to be extremely cautious, and to take good heed what we allow ourselves to imitate or copy after,And that example hath influence. in writing or style for instance, but above all in life and manners.

Habit renders that agreeable which was formerly disagreeable.It is a very remarkable effect of the law of habits, that what is at first very uneasy and disagreeable, becomes by use, or association of ideas and habit, exceeding pleasant and agreeable. Hence it is that we come to like the train of business we have been for some time inured to, however disagreeable<102> it might have been at first. Upon this is founded the ancient sage advice to young people about the choice of a profession in life, “To chuse that which is likeliest to be most advantageous to them, provided they have abilities for it, even though they should have preconceived some prejudice against it, or aversion to it, because custom will make it agreeable.”a It is owing in some measure to this law of habits, that people of the same business in life, or of the same rank and station, do so readily associate together. It is very fit it should be so on many accounts; but chiefly because people of the same profession will by conversation about their common art, which will naturally be the subject of their discourse, mutually learn from one another, and mutually excite emulation one in another. And so true is the fact, that it is become an universal proverb, Birds of a feather flock together.

It ballances our natural desire after novelty.We observed before, that a fondness after novelty is necessary in our nature,a to spur us to seek after new objects, and new knowledge; but that this desire of novelty is ballanced in our frame by the liking contracted to an object by habitual commerce with it, lest our itch after novelty should render us too unsteady, too desultory, and consequently too superficial and heedless in our attention to an object, to be able to attain to the full knowledge of it. Now it is in consequence of the law of habits, that this liking to an object is formed. By long or frequent conversation with an object, we become more pleased with it: the more narrowly and attentively we have considered it, the more we delight in it; for we find by frequently reasoning about the same object, that it is not new objects only that can afford us fresh entertainment; but that<103> every object is an endless fund of new discoveries: and we at the same time experience, that the more we employ ourselves about the same object, the more easy it becomes to us to make progress in new discoveries about it; and thus a fondness for the same object, or the same train of study, is contracted, so that we are not easily prevailed upon, even by quite new ones, to desert it: or if we are, yet we return to it again with such a relish, as one renews conversation with an old acquaintance he had not seen for some time.How it does so.

By the law of habit passive impressions grow weaker, in proportion as practical habits are strengthned.III. But one of the most remarkable advantages of the law of habits is, (I shall give it in the words of an excellent author),b a power with regard to pleasure and pain in respect of practical habits. As practical habits are formed and strengthned by repeated acts; so passive impressions are found to grow weaker by being repeated on us. Whence it must follow, that active habits may be gradually forming and strengthning by a course of acting upon such and such motives; while excitements themselves are proportionably by degrees becoming less sensible, that is, are continually less and less felt, as the active habits strengthen. Experience confirms this. For active principles at the very time they are less lively in perception than they were, are found to be somehow wrought into character and temper, and become more powerful in influencing our practice.Instances. Thus perception of danger is a natural excitement of passive fear, and active caution: and by being inured to danger, habits of the latter are gradually wrought, at the same time that the former gradually lessens. Perception of distress is a natural excitement, passively to pity, and actively to relieve it. But let a man set himself to attend to, enquire out and relieve distressed persons, and he<104> cannot but be less and less affected with the various miseries of human life, with which he must become acquainted: but yet, at the same time, benevolence considered, not as a passion, but as a practical principle of action will strengthen; and whilst he passionately compassionates the distressed less, he will acquire a greater aptitude actively to assist and befriend them. It is the same with all other affections which may be worked by exercise into active principles, and being settled and established as such in the mind, constitute a habitual character or temper that exerts itself calmly and regularly.

’Tis in conseqence of the law of habits that temper is formed.IV. It is indeed, in consequence of the law of habits that temper or character is formed, for tho all the affections of mankind be, and must be originally from nature; and art, or exercise, cannot create, but can only make some change to the better or worse upon what nature hath implanted in our breasts; yet habit is the nurse of all affections: it is by repeated acts that any one is wrought into temper or becomes habitual. Whatever temper we would form, we must do it not merely by enforcing upon our minds, a strong conviction of its usefulness and reasonableness; but chiefly by exerting ourselves to call forth into action the affections which constitute it; by exercising them frequently, or by various acts; and that without intermission till the point is gained; that is, till these affections are become strong, ready to go out into action on any proper occasion; and we have contracted a propension to exert them.In consequence of that law, we are able to form and establish in our minds the deliberative habit. This is the way temper or character is formed. And by this means, it is in our power to change any temper we may have contracted, and to form ourselves to any desireable one. And this leads me to observe, that the chief benefit of the law of habits, is our being able in consequence of it to acquire the deliberative temper or habit: that is, the habitual power of enquiring and judging before we choose or<105> act; the opposite to which is the habit of acting precipitately, and in blind, slavish obedience to every fancy or appetite that assails us. Whatever metaphysical janglings there have been about the freedom of our will; our moral dominion, liberty, and mastership of ourselves certainly consist in the established habit of thinking well before we act; insomuch as to be sure of ourselves, that no fancy or appetite shall be able to hurry us away into action, till reason and moral conscience have pronounced an impartial sentence about them.Which is self-command and true moral liberty. It is this command over ourselves, this empire over our passions, which enables us to put trust or confidence in ourselves, and renders us sure and trust-worthy in society to others. In it do true wisdom and freedom lie. And as it ought to be the chief business of education to form early this deliberative habit and temper in young minds; and the constant employment of every man to preserve and maintain it in due strength; so the only way to attain to it, or uphold it, is, 1.How it is established or formed and strengthened. By inculcating upon ourselves the excellence and usefulness of it, and the manifold disadvantages that redound from the want or weakness of it. And, 2. by practicing ourselves in choosing and acting after the deliberative judicious manner; in habituating ourselves to call all sorts of ideas, fancies, and motives to a strict account; or in accustoming whatever opinion or desire claims our pursuit, to give in its reasons at the bar of reason, and to wait patiently its examination and sentence. Thus alone is the right moral temper formed. And these two exercises will be the constant employment of every one, who aims at the improvement and perfection of his mind; or at acting like a rational creature, and with true inward liberty and self-dominion, which, like every other habit, can only be acquired by practice and custom. ’Tis no matter as to the present case, how the will is determined, by motives or by desires, by the last act of the judgment, or by the mind itself, that is,<106> by its own self-motive power. For whatever be the meaning of such phrases, ’tis as certain, that command over ourselves is liberty, as that being so enthralled by any appetite, as not to be able so much as to examine its pretensions before we yield to it; or being so habituated to desultoriness and thoughtlessness, and blind rash choice, as not to have it in our power to think or judge before we act, is vile slavery and impotence.

It is therefore this law of our nature that renders us capable of liberty or of being free moral agents.Thus therefore it is really in consequence of the law of habits, that we are capable of liberty, or are free agents.a

Now, I think from what has been said of the association of ideas and of habits, we may justly conclude, “That the laws relating to them are of great use in our nature, either necessary, or fitly chosen. And consequently, that no effects which take their rise from them, are evils absolutely considered, or with regard to the whole frame and constitution of the human mind.”Conclusion from the whole.

A useful corolary.But there is a truth, which necessarily results from what hath been laid down, that may justly be added to this article, by way of corolary; and it is this, “That even in an absolutely perfect constitution of things, where the law of habit and association takes place, if knowledge be progressive, and gradually acquireable in proportion to application to improve in it, and consequently minds must be in an infant state at their entrance upon the world; some associations and habits must be early formed by minds in such a state<107> of things, which ought to be broken, and yet which cannot be broken or dissolved by reason without difficulty and struggling. For it is impossible, but some ideas, by being frequently presented to the mind conjointly must associate, which ought not to be associated; or the association of which is contrary to happiness and reason.” But this observation, so plainly follows from what has been proved, that it is needless to dwell longer upon it. I shall therefore but just add, that if any one will pursue it in his own mind through all its consequences, he shall find a solution arising from it to many objections made against the present state of mankind; to those especially which are taken from the prevalence of vice in the world: for wrong opinions must produce wrong choice and action: and yet of most wrong choices, it may be said, Decipimur specie recti.37

CHAPTER IV

Another class of laws relative to our guiding principle and our moral conduct.Let us therefore proceed to examine the laws relative to our reason, moral sense, and the rule and standard of our moral conduct with which we are provided and furnished by nature.

We have already considered our constitution with regard to knowledge. But in an enquiry into human nature, it is certainly proper to take yet a further view of our frame with respect to our moral conduct and guidance; or of the powers we are endued with, to direct us in the management of our affections, and in all our actions;Our excellence consists in our having reason and a moral sense to guide our conduct. and of the rules or laws nature hath set before us for our measure and guide. Reason, as it relates to our moral conduct, may be defined to be, “Our power of making<108> a just estimate of human life, and its principal end, by connecting things past and to come with what is present; and thus of computing our true interest,What moral reason is. and discovering what is best and fittest to do in any case; or contrariwise, what is opposite to our interest, and unbecoming our natural rank and dignity.”a Now, that we have such a faculty is readily owned : nor does any one hesitate to assert, that our chief excellence above lower animals void of reflexion consists in our having it. ’Tis for this reason we assume to ourselves the name and character of moral agents. We may observe a nice, subtle and uninterrupted gradation in nature from the lowest degree of meer perceptivity to this perfection man is distinguished by, thro’ many intermediate steps gradually ascending one above another, without any chasm or void. Thus, nature is full and coherent.

• How we rise in the scale of being by our reason: it is all our force, or at least our chief one.

  Far as creation’s ample range extends,
• The scale of sensual, mental pow’rs ascends:
• Mark how it mounts to man’s imperial race,
• From the green myriads in the peopled grass!
• What modes of sight, between each wide extreme,
• The mole’s dim curtain, and the lynx’s beam:
• Of smell the headlong lioness between,
• And hound, sagacious on the tainted green;
• Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood,
• To that which warbles through the vernal wood:
• The spider’s touch, how exquisitely fine,
• Feels at each thread, and lives along the line:
• In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true,
• From pois’nous herbs extracts the healing dew.<109>
• How instinct varies! in the groveling swine,
• Compar’d half reas’ning elephant with thine.
• ’Twixt that, and reason, what a nice barrier,
• For ever sep’rate, yet for ever near:
• Remembrance, and reflexion, how ally’d;
• What thin partitions sense from thought divide:
• And middle natures, how they long to join,
• Yet never pass th’ insuperable line!
• Without this just gradation, could they be
• Subjected these to those, or all to thee?
• The pow’rs of all subdued by thee alone,
• Is not thy reason all those pow’rs in one?

• Essay on man, Epist. 1.38

It is our guiding principle, and ought to be exerted as such.But if reason be acknowledged to be a perfection or power superior in the scale of life to meer sensitive being, the consequence must be, “That reason ought to be upon the throne within us, set up and maintained by us, as the judge and ruler, from which all appetites, fancies, affections and pursuits ought to receive their commands, and to which they ought to be subject and accountable.”a This seems to need no proof. One may as reasonably ask, why we ought to open our eyes, make use of them, and take care to preserve them from all diseases and imperfections; as why, having reason, we ought to exert it, give it its proper place, and preserve it pure and untainted, and in full possession of its natural right, to guide, direct, and command all our inferior appetites and all our associations. It is as evident, that our appetites and affections are made to be guided by reason, as that reason is a<110> judging power, and as such, our distinguishing, our supreme excellence. If reason be our natural dignity, or that which constitutes us a superior rank of beings above those which have no such governing principle; it must be true, that we only maintain our natural dignity in proportion as reason presides and rules within us; and that we fall below the rank of men, in proportion as reason is weak, impotent, over-powered, and unable to act as a ruling or commanding faculty, in truth, to ask, why man is obliged to act according to his reason, or to be ruled by it, is to ask, why reason is reason. It cannot be denied, without asserting, that it is not a higher rank of life to be endowed with it, than to want it; upon which supposition, man is not one step removed in dignity or perfection above meer animals and a gradation or scale of being, are words without any meaning.

There are two things to be considered with respect to our guiding principle and our rule of conduct.But there are two things which deserve our particular attention with regard to our natural capacity and furniture for directing our conduct, or for the regulation of our appetites, desires, affections and actions. “We have a moral sense, or a sense of right and wrong. And we have a sense of interest and happiness.” Now if it shall appear, that these two senses do not contradict one another; but that they agree in pointing out to us the same course of management and action; then must it be granted,Our sense of right and wrong. that our nature is very well constituted with respect to our moral conduct.And our sense of happiness. Were these, indeed, at variance, our frame would be very unaccountable, or rather monstrous; but if virtue and interest be really the same, then is every part of our moral frame consonant to every other part of it; and so it is a good or well composed whole.That these do not disagree shall be shewn afterwards. I have used the word virtue, to express what our sense of right and wrong recommends to our choice, because it is universally so used and understood: to use that term, in that sense, is not to beg the question; or to suppose a difference between virtue and vice before we have proved it: it is no<111> more than forewarning, that we are to use virtue and vice, with these other words right and wrong in the same sense, because we think these words are very generally employed as equivalent terms. That we have a sense of virtue and vice, or of right and wrong, is now to be proved.

Our sense of right and wrong, or our moral sense.This is a question about fact, and consequently it can only be resolved in the same way, that other faculties or powers may be proved to belong to our nature. But I am apt to think, that every one shall immediately perceive, that he has a moral sense inherent in him, and really inseparable from him; if he will reflect, “Whether he is not so constituted as to be necessarily determined by his nature, to approve and disapprove certain affections and actions?”Election distinguished from approbation. For if that be owned, then are there certain affections and actions which he is necessarily determined by his nature to pronounce right, and certain affections and actions which he is necessarily determined by his nature to pronounce wrong. The question now under consideration can be no other than whether we have a determination in our nature to approve and disapprove affections and actions; and what we are thus determined to approve and disapprove.We have an approving and disapproving sense. For if there are certain affections and actions which we are constantly so determined to approve or disapprove that we cannot chuse but approve the one kind and disapprove the other; then, whatever these may be, they are with respect to us necessary objects or motives, the one kind, to approbation, and the other, to condemnation or disapprobation. Hardly will any one say, that we have no determination to approve or disapprove. “Approbation a is a simple idea known by consciousness, which can only be explained by synonimous words, or by concomitant or subsequent circumstances. Approbation of our own action, denotes or is attended with a pleasure in the contemplation of it, and in reflexion upon the affections which inclined us to it.The qualities that excite approbation or disapprobation. Approbation<112> of the action of another is pleasant, and is attended with love toward the agent. And that the qualities exciting to election, or moving to action, are different from those moving to approbation, every one upon reflexion must feel. For we often do actions which we cannot approve, and approve actions which we omit. We often desire that an agent had omitted an action which we approve, and wish he would do an action which we condemn. Approbation is often employed about the actions of others where there is no room for our election.”b But if we experience approbation and disapprobation, then must we have an approving and disapproving faculty; a determination to approve and disapprove: and there must likewise be objects to excite our approbation, and objects to move our disapprobation. So that the remaining question is, what these objects are?

Actions must be done with freedom, affection and reflexion, to excite approbation or condemnation.I. Now it is plain, that we never approve or disapprove, neither with respect to ourselves or others, but when we are sensible an action is done voluntarily, by choice, with reflexion, and without external compulsion or necessity. Thus we neither approve nor disapprove what is done by a brute, an ideot, or changeling; nor even what a rational creature does, not of itself, but when externally forced and compelled. Approbation and disapprobation always suppose their object to be matter of voluntary and free choice and affection. We neither approve nor disapprove ourselves, but when we are conscious that what we do is our own voluntary deed. And with regard to other beings, in like manner, we can neither approve nor disapprove, but when we imagine an action is performed by them with like choice, affection and freedom,<113> as when we approve or disapprove ourselves for doing or omitting. It is not merely because actions are advantageous or disadvantageous, that we approve or disapprove them; actions must be free, in order to move such sentiments and affections. If they are not, we regard them as the fall of a beam or a tile. This is too evident to be longer insisted upon.

Of these veracity, candour, benevolence, &c. excite our approbation, and their contraries our disapprobation.II. But of free actions, or actions excited to by affections, and done with reflexion, some cannot be reflected upon without approbation, nor others without dislike and condemnation. Now, what are those, which move our approbation, and by what characteristic are they distinguished from the others? It is experience that must determine this question. And therefore let any one consider,a how benevolent actions; how truth, candour, veracity, benignity, and such like dispositions, with their proper exertions in action affect us, so soon as we reflect upon them, or contemplate them: and what we think, on the other hand, of their contraries, falshood, dissimulation, treachery, instability, narrowness of mind, selfishness, malice, &c. Creatures capable of reflection, can, nay must make all the affections they experience in their breasts, and by which they are moved to action, the objects of their understanding: they must perceive them, and perceiving them there will naturally and necessarily arise in their minds a new class of affections towards these affections they feel themselves to be moved by. What then are the affections which we experience to accompany the different sorts of affections which have been just mentioned? How do they affect<114> or move us? Are they pleasant to us on reflexion and contemplation, or disagreeable, or do they no way touch or move us; but are we quite neutral and indifferent to them: or when we are agreeably affected by the one sort, and disagreeably affected by the other sort, as we certainly are, whether we will or not, when they are present to our mind, and reflected upon. Is it the same sort of pleasure or pain we perceive when we reflect upon a beautiful and useful plant or an ugly and pernicious one? One or other of these must be said. But surely it will not be affirmed, that we are quite unmoved by such contemplation, and that no affections, whether of the generous or ungenerous kind, do either excite our like or dislike, our approbation or disapprobation; for this would be to assert, that no one character is more agreeable to us than another; but that the mind is equally indifferent to all sorts of characters and tempers. Far less will it be said, that the false, deceitful, mercenary man is agreeable to us; and that the faithful, trusty, and benevolent man moves our hatred. And to say, that tho’ we are differently affected by these opposite characters, yet it is no otherwise than as we are differently affected with fruit, for instance, according as it is pleasant or disagreeable to our taste, is absurd. For however much we may like or dislike a particular sensation of taste fruit may affect us with; yet surely we do not like and dislike, approve and disapprove fruits, in the same way we like and dislike, approve and disapprove characters. Do we like or approve our generous friend in no other way than we like or dislike our dinner?

But if we are affected by such actions and characters, as have been described, agreeably or disagreeably, in a different way from the agreeable or disagreeable manner in which meats and drinks affect us; then it must follow, that we are fitted and determined by our nature to receive from the consideration of such actions and characters a particular<115> kind of agreeable or disagreeable sentiment, properly expressed by approbation and disapprobation. For this must be true, in general, that no one thing can give us pleasure or pain unless we are fitted by our make to be so affected by it. We could not, for instance, have the pleasures which the modifications of light and colours give to the eye, if we were not so framed as to perceive them and be agreeably affected by them. Now if we are determined by our nature to approve or disapprove characters, in the way that has been mentioned, we may give and ought to give, this aptitude, this determination in our nature a particular distinguishing name to denote it. Let it therefore be called a sense of the difference between actions or characters, or more shortly, a moral sense.

Whether we have a moral sense or not, is a question of fact.Let us reason about this matter as much as we will, all we can do is but to turn this question into various shapes, viz. “Whether we are not necessarily determined to approve the public affections in ourselves or others, which lead to such conduct as promotes the good of our fellow creatures, and to disapprove their opposites; and that immediately, so soon as any one of them is presented to our mind.” For the question is about a fact, a part of our constitution; about something felt and experienced within us, in consequence of our frame; and it cannot possibly be decided, but by consciousness, or by attending to our mind, in order to know how we are affected on certain occasions by certain objects. But if any matter of experience merits our attention, this does, and therefore I shall offer the following considerations about it.Arguments to prove we have it.

I. Did not affections, actions and characters, when they are contemplated by the understanding, and are thus made objects of thought and reflection, move us agreeably or disagreeably, there would be an analogy in nature wanting, which we have no reason from nature to think can be wanting.From analogy. For there is nothing<116> more certain, than that all sensible forms, so soon as they are presented to the mind, do affect it with the agreeable perception of beauty, or the disagreeable perception of deformity.For we have a sense of beauty in sensible forms. Some objects of sense do indeed so little affect us, that the perception produced by their contemplation is scarcely attended to; but every perception, as such, must be in some degree either pleasant or painful; tho’ it is only when perceptions have a considerable degree of pleasure or pain, that they considerably interest us, and we are therefore at any pains to class them, and give particular names to their effects upon us. However, setting aside that consideration, it is evident, in fact, with regard almost to all bodies or subjects of sense, that they give us either the idea of beauty or deformity according to the different disposition, measure or arrangement of their several parts. It is the same with respect to sounds; from every combination of them, there necessarily results either harmony or discord. Now, did not moral subjects affect us in like manner with the sense of beauty and deformity, as sensible species or images of bodies do,a there<117> would not be that analogy between the natural and moral world, or between the fabric of our mind with relation to sensible and to moral objects, that one is naturally led to apprehend must take place by the universal analogy of nature to itself observed throughout all its works. No object can indeed be present to the understanding or perceived by it, without affecting it in some manner as an object of the understanding, or as an intelligible species. And therefore every moral object must be fitted to affect the mind with some affection suited to it as a moral species, or an intelligible form. But not to lay any stress at all upon that abstract truth. How can we acknowledge a sense of beauty and deformity with respect to corporeal subjects, and no analogous sense with respect to mental ones? Can we allow the mind to have an eye or an ear for bodily proportions and harmonies; and yet imagine it has no eye or ear by which it can distinguish moral appearances and effects? No sense, whereby it can scan thoughts, and sentiments, and affections, or distinguish the beautiful and deformed, the harmonious and dissonant, the agreeable and disagreeable in them. Does the bodily eye afford us perceptions of pleasure and pain distinct from the sensations of touch? And has the understanding or eye of the mind, when it is employed about moral forms, no such discernment? Has it no class of pleasures and pains belonging to it, as a seeing or discerning faculty? Are all the pleasures or pains excited in or perceived by the mind, with relation to affections and sentiments, only pleasures and pains of mental touch or feeling, so to speak? Is there nothing of the agreeable and disagreeable kind resulting<118> from the contemplation of moral subjects, from their visible, i.e. intelligible proportions, shapes and textures? Is all, I say, that affects the mind with pain or pleasure of the moral kind merely analogous to our sensible pleasures conveyed by outward touch; and has it, indeed, with respect to moral objects, no class of perceptions analogous to those of the eye; none at all which properly belong to the understanding, and are excited in it by the moral species, in like manner as visible ones affect the sense of seeing? Surely it is contrary to analogy to fancy so. But if there really be any such thing as being affected by the appearances of moral subjects to the understanding as such; in language, which is, and must be originally taken from sensible objects, and their effects upon us, the perceptions conveyed to the understanding by moral forms, will very properly be called by the same names, as the analogous ones produced in us by visible forms; that is, beauty and deformity, regularity and irregularity, proportion and disproportion, &c.

From languages, for these suppose it.II. Language, not being invented by philosophers, but contrived to express common sentiments, or what every one perceives, we may be morally sure, that where universally all languages make a distinction, there is really in nature a difference. Now all languages speak of a beautiful and a deformed, a fair and foul in actions and characters, as well as of advantageousness and disadvantageousness, profitableness and hurtfulness. But all languages which use such words, suppose a moral sense, or a capacity of distinguishing actions and characters from one another, by their appearances to the understanding independently of all their other tendencies, effects or consequences. For at the same time that these words, beauty, deformity, &c. are used, there is in all languages a great variety of other words to express all that can distinguish actions and characters<119> from one another, upon supposition that they are no otherwise different than with relation to their advantageous or disadvantageous effects. Interest, convenience, good, profitable, and innumerable other such terms, and their contraries, sufficiently denote these latter differences; and therefore the words taken from visible perceptions, are quite superfluous, if there are indeed no moral differences discernible by the eye of the mind or understanding, signified by them in distinction from others. But how is it conceiveable that words absolutely superfluous, but founded upon and derived from a supposition of an analogy between visible appearances to the eye and moral appearances to the understanding, could have universally insinuated themselves into all languages, were there no such analogy in nature? Nothing correspondent to the perceptions of beauty and deformity by the eye in material subjects, in immaterial, or moral and intelligible forms to the understanding. This is hardly conceiveable.

From the fine arts, for these suppose it.III. But to go on. Oratory, poetry, painting, and all the imitative arts, prove the reality of a moral sense: they suppose it, and could not have their agreeable effects upon us, were we not endued with it. If they suppose a sublimity, a beauty, an excellence, a greatness, an irresistable amiableness, in charactersa absolutely distinct from all the consequences of actions, with regard to profit or loss, advantage or disadvantage; then do they prove a moral sense, or that there are certain actions or characters which we cannot chuse but approve, love and admire; and others which we cannot chuse but disapprove, condemn and abhor, independently<120> of all other considerations, besides their lovely orvile forms, their charming and agreeable, or disagreeable and detestable appearances to the understanding. And shall we then, rather than acknowledge such a sense in our make, give up the foundation of all those delightful arts, to which we owe such noble entertainments? Or if we should be tempted so to do, is it not the utmost length we can go, to save our being forced to own a moral sense; to say, that though there be no real amiableness or deformity in moral acts, there is an imaginary one of full force, upon which these arts work?It must be from nature. But what is this but to say, that though the thing itself cannot be allowed in nature, yet the imagination or fancy of it must be allowed to be from nature: for if there be such a fancy of full force in our nature that upon it can be raised such high admiration, warm affection, and transporting approbation by these arts; whence else can such fancy be, but from nature alone? It is easy to conceive, if the thing itself, or the imagination of it, be natural, how it comes about that nothing besides art and strong endeavour, with long practice, and much violent struggling, can overcome our natural pre-possession or prevention in favour of this moral distinction, without which poetry or oratory would in vain attempt to interest our love and approbation, or excite our aversion and dislike by characters. But if it be not from nature, art must be able to create; it must be able to do more than operate upon subjects laid to its hand; it must be able to give existence to what nature knows nothing of, or hath laid no foundation for.

The imitative arts not only prove to us, that we have public affections; and that these regularly excited and wrought up to certain proper degrees, afford us very noble entertainment in the way of passion or feeling: but they likewise prove, that characters cannot be exhibited to our view without effectually<121> moving us; without deeply concerning us in their fates and fortunes; without exciting our warmest approbation, and keenest emulation.The absurdity of supposing it is not. What else does all that is said of sublimities, greatness, beauty, dignity, and loveliness of sentiments, affections, actions, and characters mean? They are indeed words without meaning. And the effects they produce in our minds, what are they? In truth, any one who will but reflect how he is moved by a fine character in a poem, must own these arts are a demonstration, 1. That we are originally so constituted, as that from the moment we come to be tried with sensible objects, pity, love, kindness, generosity, and social affection are brought forth. But how could they be so, if they were not in our nature? Can any art educe from any subject qualities which it has not? 2. That we are so constituted, that the moment we come to be tried by rational objects, and receive unto our mind images or representations of justice, generosity, truth, magnanimity, or any other virtue, we are not able to remain indifferent toward them, but must approve and like them. And indeed it is impossible to imagine, a sensible creature so ill framed and unnatural, as that so soon as he is tried by proper objects, he should have no one good passion towards his kind: no foundation either of compassion, complacency, or kindly affection. And it is equally impossible to conceive a rational creature, coming first to be tried by moral species, or the representations of good and virtuous affections, should have no liking of them, or dislike of their contraries; but be found absolutely neutral, towards whatever is presented to them of that sort. “A soula indeed may as well be without sense as without admiration in the things of which it has any knowledge: coming<122> therefore to a capacity of seeing and admiring in the moral way, it must needs find a beauty and a deformity as well in actions, minds, and tempers, as in figures, sounds, or colours.” Let the philosophers, who are for resolving all our publick affections, and all our liking and disliking of actions and characters into certain subtle, nimble reflexions of self-love upon private interest, try whether they can thus account for the love, admiration, esteem and concern excited by a fictitious representation: but if they find the attempt vain here, must it not likewise be so in the original life, from which fictitious representation must be copied, in order to be natural? Sure there is not one nature for life, and another for fiction.

Without supposing or owning it, we must have recourse to very subtle reflexions (of which the mind is not conscious and for which it hath not time) to account for several phenomena; which is absurd.IV. But who can consider human nature, and deny that we have public affections towards the good of others; or assert that all our passions spring from self-love and desire of private advantage; and that we have no moral sense. For take away a moral sense and public desires, how very small a share of our present excitements to action would remain with us? It is owned, that the affections called public, make indeed the greater part of our employments; or, that without them we would be almost reduced to absolute indolence. But when they are said not to be really social or public affections, but modes or arts of self-love, how are they accounted for?

How are our natural affection to parents and offspring; our compassion to the distressed; our gratitude, our benevolence; or whatever, in one word, hath the appearance of social in our frame, or of affection to public good: how are they reduced to self-love, but by supposing us, when the objects, which excite these affections are represented to us, immediately to make some very cunning reflexions upon self-interest reaor private good, which<123> there is neither time for, nor are we conscious of? And can we think that to be true philosophy, or a just account of human nature, which is forced to have recourse to the supposition of many refined subtle reasonings on every occasion, in every honest farmer or peasant? That one consideration is sufficient to refute it, and to shew it to be false and unnatural. But what puts the reality of public affections in our nature, the immediate object of which is the good of others, and of a moral sense by which we are necessarily determined to approve such affections, beyond all doubt, is, that whatever motives there may be from the side of pleasure or interest, by which we may be bribed to do an action; yet we cannot possibly be bribed to approve it contrary to our inward sense: or whatever motives of fear there may be to terrify us from doing an action, yet we cannot be terrified into the approbation of the omission, if it be not really approveable.We can no more be bribed to approve an action, than to assent to a proposition. If a moral sense be owned, the reality of public affections in our nature will be acknowledged; for it is only about actions proceeding from public affections, that there is any dispute as to our determination to approve or disapprove: but if we have no moral sense, agreeably to which we must approve, and contrary to which we cannot approve or disapprove; whence comes it about, that though we may be allured, or frighted into doing an action, yet we can neither be allured nor frighted into approving or disapproving an action, no more than we can be bribed or terrified into assenting to aproposition which we perceive to be false; or into refusing our assent to a proposition which we perceive to be true. If that be the case, then approbation or disapprobation dependsa as absolutely upon the<124> appearances of actions to our minds, as assent and dissent do upon the appearances of propositions to our minds. But that it is so, every one will feel by asking himself, whether an estate can bribe him to approve any degree of villany, though it may perswade him to perpetrate it; or whether he can possibly think treachery, ingratitude, dissimulation or any such actions laudable and approveable in themselves, whatever evils may be averted by them in certain circumstances? Consequences cannot alter the moral differences of actions no more than they can alter the nature of truth and falshood. As a proposition must be true or false in itself, independently of the loss or gain the profession of the belief of it may bring; so actions must be the same in themselves with respect to their moral natures and qualities, with whatever circumstances relative to interest, the doing or not doing may be accompanied. But as truths could not be understood or assented to, had we not a faculty of distinguishing the appearances of truth from falshood; so actions could not be discerned to be morally beautiful and fit, unless we had a faculty of distinguishing the moral differences of actions.

Farther reflexions on moral sense.But all that relates to a moral sense in our nature, hath been so fully handled by several excellent writers,a that I shall only subjoin a few further reflexions upon it, with a view to such philosophers as do not deny the thing, but seem to quarrel with the name; which however will be of considerable use<125> to set our moral sense itself and its usefulness yet in a clearer light.

’Tis not worth while to dispute about a name or appellation, if the thing be owned.I. First of all, it is no great matter for the name, if the thing itself in question be acknowledged. And it certainly is by all, who acknowledge the difference between good and evil; however, they may chuse to express that difference by calling it truth, reasonableness, fitness, or by whatever other appellation. For if there is truth, fitness, or reasonableness in actions with regard to us, it is perceivable by us; and if we perceive it, we are capable of perceiving it; that is, we have the faculty requisite to perceiving it, or which enables us to perceive it. Let therefore the capacity or faculty of perceiving moral differences of actions or characters, be called reason, as it is exercised about actions and their moral differences, moral discernment, or moral conscience; we shall not dispute for any word: All we want to establish, is, that as we are capable of distinguishing truth from falsehood, so we are capable of distinguishing good and approveable actions, affections, and characters from bad and disapproveable ones: And that we are not more necessarily determined by our nature, to assent or dissent according to the appearances of things to our understanding, than we are necessarily determined by our make to approve or disapprove affections, actions, and characters, according to their appearances to our understanding.And it must be owned by all who acknowledge moral differences of actions and characters. Now as all, who own a necessary and essential difference of the moral kind between any action and its opposite, (as between gratitude, for example, and ingratitude) must own the necessary determination of our minds to approve the one, and disapprove the other, so soon as these moral differences are presented to the mind ; so every one must be obliged to acknowledge certain necessary and essential differences of actions in the moral kind, resulting necessarily from their natures,<126> according to which the mind must approve or disapprove, so soon as the images of them are represented to it; or he must say that the mind in no case approves or disapproves, but that it is quite a stranger to all such sentiments as these words express. For it is self-evident that if ever approbation and disapprobation be excited, there must be an exciting quality. It is not more true, that when there is election there is some quality exciting to it; than it is necessarily so, that wherever there is approbation, there is a ground, a reason, a motive of approbation, some quality, some appearance to the mind that excites it. As we cannot have or conceive pleasure of any kind, without affection to it, nor alternately affection, without some pleasure towards which it tends; so we cannot conceive delight in approving, without something which creates that delight or complacency; nor alternately any thing fitted to excite delight or complacency felt in approbation, and yet the mind not affected by it in that manner. But it is no uncommon thing to find philosophers asserting propositions which necessarily terminate in affirming, “There may be pleasures without affections, and affections without objects; though hardly will any one philosopher make that assertion in direct terms.” I think an excellent philosopher has reduced most of the objections against a moral sense to such conclusions.a

However it is proper, nay necessary to give this sense in our natures a distinguishing name.II. But if the determination in our nature to approve public affections and virtuous actions, and to disapprove their contraries, be acknowledged, though it is of no importance by what name that determination be expressed; yet it is certainly necessary, that some one should be given it, and fixed to it by philosophers who own the thing. If there is any reason for concluding from the pleasures of<127> harmony we receive by the ear; from the pleasures of light, and colours, and visible beauty we receive by the eye; from the pleasures of truth and knowledge we receive by the exercise of the understanding about speculative matters; or from the pleasures of affection and passion we receive by having our pathetic part agreeably moved and bestirred: If there be any reason to conclude from these perceptions that we really have the faculty of delighting in music, distinct from that of enjoying visible beauty, and both distinct from the faculty of comparing the relations of ideas, and perceiving their agreements or disagreements, and consequently of delighting in truth; and all these distinct from the capacity of receiving pleasures from our affections duly moved (as by a good tragedy for instance): There must be good reason to conclude from the manner in which we are differently affected by the moral appearances of actions and characters, when presented to our mind, either in real life, or by imitation, that we really have a faculty of discerning the moral differences of actions and characters, distinct not only from all our outward senses, but also from the capacity of perceiving the truth and falshood of propositions.

This is no less necessary than it is to give distinguishing name to our other senses and faculties.And for the same reason that it is not only a proper and distinct way of speaking in philosophy, but a necessary one, to say, we have a sense of harmony, a sense of visible beauty, a capacity of discerning truth from falshood, &c: For the same reason it must not only be a proper and distinct, but a necessary way of speaking in philosophy, to say, that we have a sense of moral beauty and fitness in affections, actions, and characters, as distinct from all these as they are from one another; provided we really are so made, that affections, actions, and characters do necessarily excite our approbation, or dislike and condemnation, according to their moral differences. If there be such a faculty or<128> determination in our nature, it ought to have its distinct name; as well as our other faculties have. We cannot treat of it distinctly no more than of any other of our powers, capacities, and affections, without having some determinate word to express it. But moral sense, moral taste, moral discernment, or moral conscience, well express it; and seem to be the properest phrases in our language, to answer to those used to signify the same determination in our nature by ancient philosophers.a

That we are determined by pleasure and pain in all our motions is true in a certain sense.III. Some philosophers seem to be excessively fond of the words pleasure and pain, and to have great satisfaction in repeating over and over again, that it is only pleasure and pain that can excite desire, or move and affect the mind. But though that proposition be very true, when pleasure and pain are taken in a large sense, comprehending all the objects which affect the mind agreeably or disagreeably; yet of what use can it be in philosophy? or, what truths can we discover by its help, till all various sorts of pleasures and pains; that is, all objects which affect the mind agreeably and disagreeably are distinguished and classed, that they may be estimated and apprized?But this general propostion is of little use in philosophy, till all our pleasures are classed and distinguished. One may as well think of carrying on philosophy distinctly without distinguishing the various pleasures of the senses from one another, because it is the mind perceives them all; and they may for that reason be all called perceptions and pleasures of sense; as think of carrying on philosophy distinctly without distinguishing not only moral pleasures from sensible ones; but the various kinds of moral ones from one another, according to their different values, degrees,<129> and natures. Pleasures of sense, pleasures of imagination, pleasures of contemplation, pleasures of sentiment, and several other classes, that might be named, are all of them but different sorts of pleasures; but because they are different sorts, they ought to be distinguished. Or till they are so, how can they be compared and have their moments determined? If any philosopher asks, “if one can elect or approve without being pleased?” I will answer, “That we cannot be pleased without being pleased.” But that election and approbation are as different perceptions or pleasures as any two he can name. If he continues to urge, “That one may say what he will, but one cannot be determined to act but by pleasure, for nothing can please without pleasing.” I answer, “Pleasure is pleasure, and nothing can be pleasure but pleasure.” But delight in a good action by approbation is as different a pleasure from delight in any advantage it may bring, as pleasure in a picture is from pleasure in music, or as both are from the pleasure of a dinner, a good picture or a fine tune may procure.And our moral sense renders us capable of a peculiar sett of them, the highest we are susceptible of, or can conceive. Our determination to approve or disapprove actions and characters, renders us capable of a sett of pleasures far superior to any which sense can afford in the most prosperous circumstances of outward enjoyment: and it likewise renders us capable of a sett of pains far more insupportable than any we can possibly have from any other quarter. For what pleasures are equal to those of self-approbation, and the conscience of having acted agreeably to the relations of things, to moral beauty and fitness, the dignity and excellency of our nature, and in concert with that amiable temper and disposition of the Author of nature, which appears throughout the whole of his works? And what pains, on the other hand, can be compared with those of a self-condemning mind? But it is our sense of agreeableness and disagreeableness in actions, and our<130> necessary determination to approveordis approve according to the moral differences of affections and actions, which alone renders us, or can render us sussceptible of these highest of pleasures or pains. They are and must be peculiar to creatures capable of reflecting upon the images of actions and characters, and of approving or disapproving, according to a natural sense of amiableness and its contrary. And in fine, for any one to say, “That he who does good and virtuous actions because he has pleasure in doing them, and an aversion or abhorrence of their contrary, as much pursues his own pleasure as any other person can be said to do, whatever he takes pleasure in; and consequently that all men are equally selfish, though nothing be more true than what the poet tells us, nec voto vivitur uno.”a This is indeed no more than telling us, that pleasure is pleasure. And we shall not scruple to grant them all they demand, provided they will but allow, First, That no man can be said to be virtuous, unless he does virtuous deeds from good affections, and with an approving sense of what he does. And therefore, Secondly, That virtue and vice suppose a determination in our nature to approve the one and to disapprove the other, both which I think have been sufficiently proved.

The caution of the ancient moralists in using the words good and evil very commendable.IV. But after all that has been granted with regard to saying, “That it is always pleasure which determines us to elect or approve;” I believe, all who acknowledge the reality of virtue, if they have attended to the importance or rather necessity of using distinct determinate terms, and keeping closely to definitions, especially in moral philosophy, in order to avoid all ambiguity and collusion; will<131> very readily approve the cautiousness of the better ancient moralists, “When they would not allow sensual gratifications, which so often come into competition with virtue and the pure solid satisfaction which virtuous consciousness alone can give, to be called by the same name of pleasure (bonum,) nor any pain to be called by the same term evil (malum) designed to signify the greatest of all evils and disorders, to avoid any steps towards the introduction of which into the mind, all other pains or evils ought to be undergone with fortitude: even the corruption of the mind by vice.” Such caution is very necessary in moral philosophy. And the reasons so often given for it by ancient philosophers, by Cicero in particular, in his reasonings against the Epicurean system, in which it was the fundamental and favourite maxim, that all our determinations to act, proceed from pleasure, Omnia initia agendi à voluptate proficiscuntur;39 is beautifully englished to us by an excellent modern philosopher, who was indeed a perfect master of all true ancient learning.a “To bring (says he) the satisfactions of the mind, and the enjoyments of reason and judgment under the denomination of pleasure is only a collusion and a plain receding from the common notion of the word. They deal not fairly with us, who in their philosophical hour admit that for pleasure, which at an ordinary time, and in the common practice of life is so little taken as such. The mathematician who labours at his problem, the bookish man who toils, the artist who endures voluntarily the greatest hardships and fatigues; none of these are said to follow pleasure. Nor<132> will the men of pleasure by any means admit them to be of their number. The satisfactions which are purely mental, and depend only on the motion of a thought, must in all likelihood be too refined for our modern Epicures, who are so taken up with pleasures of a more substantial kind. They who are full of the idea of such a sensible, solid good, can have but a slender fancy for the more spiritual and intellectual sort. But this latter they set up and magnify upon occasion, to save the ignominy which may redound to them from the former: this done, the latter may take its chance, its use is presently at an end. For it is observable, that when men of this sort have recommended the enjoyments of the mind under the title of pleasure, when they have thus dignified the word, and included in it whatever is mentally good and honest, they can afterwards suffer it contentedly to slide down again into its own genuine and vulgar sense; whence they raised it only to serve a turn. When pleasure is called in question and attacked, then reason and virtue is called on to her aid, and made principal parts of her constitution. A complicated form appears and comprehends streight all which is generous, beautiful, and honest in human life. But when the attack is over, and the objection once solved, the spectre vanishes: pleasure returns again to her former shape; she may even be pleasure still, and have as little concern with dry sober reason, as in the nature of the thing, and according to common understanding she really has. For if this reasonable sort of enjoyment be admitted into the nature of good, how is it possible to admit withal that kind of sensation, which in effect is rather opposite to this enjoyment? ’Tis certain, that in respect of the mind and its enjoyments, the eagerness and irritation<133> of mere pleasure is as disturbing, as the importunity and vexation of pain. If either throws the mind off its biass, and deprives it of the satisfaction it takes in its natural exercise and employment, the mind, in this case, must be a sufferer, as well by the one as by the other; if neither does this, there is no harm on either side.”

Hence it is that we are not only capable of computing our advantage and interest;Upon the whole, that we have a moral sense appears, because we have not only the power of examining our appetites and affections, or of computing their tendencies and effects with respect to external hurt or interest, and determining the bounds within which their gratifications must be pursued and regulated, so that none of our pleasures may be too dearly bought:

But we have also clear ideas of moral order, decency, fitness and unfitness in affections, actions and characters, analogous to our ideas of beauty and regularity in outward forms. For as had we not sensitive appetites and affections towards sensible objects implanted in us by nature, reason could not compare and estimate sensible pleasures; or rather, there would be no such pleasures to estimate and reason about: in like manner, without a sense of moral beauty and fitness, reason could not compare and compute the moral differences of moral objects; or rather, there would be no such objects known to us, for reason to exercise itself about.but likewise of rising higher, and taking in what is worthy and laudable in itself into the account. “It must be true in general, that without appetites, dispositions, faculties and affections suited to particular objects, no one thing could give us more pleasure than another;” and it is fully as true, “That ultimately no other reason can be given why any object pleases us, gives delight, affects us agreeably, or excites our approbation, but that we are so framed by nature; or nature hath so constituted us, and so appointed<134> things.” So that if we have ideas of moral differences in affections and actions, there must be a moral sense in our constitution; and if there be, it must be from nature; there must be the same reason to ascribe it to nature, as to attribute any other of our senses or faculties to it.

On the one hand, if there be no such sense in our make, virtue is really but an empty name; that is, the fitness or approveableness of affections, actions and characters in themselves, is an idle dream that hath no foundation; but advantage or interest is all that we have to consider or compute in our determinations. But, on the other side, if there be really a sense of beauty, fitness, or agreeableness in affections, actions and characters in themselves, independently of all other considerations, then it plainly follows that we are made, “Not merely to consider our private good, or what quantity of external safety, ease, profit, or gratification an action may bring along with it”; but to rise higher in our contemplation, and chiefly to enquire, “What is fit and becoming, agreeable, laudable and beautiful in itself ”; and thus to ask one’s heart in all consultations about actions.It is only by a moral sense we can judge or have a notion of any thing, besides mere external advantage. But is it fit, is it becoming, is it good to do so, whatever advantage may accrue from it?—Or, is it not base, to whatever dangers not doing it may expose? Shall I betray my trust, treat my friend ungratefully, forfeit my integrity, desert my country; or do any such unworthy action, even to save life itself; to gain an uninterrupted succession of sensual joys, or to avoid the most exquisite torments? Without such a sense there can be no foundation for honour and shame. But such a sense, wherever it takes place, teaches and obliges to distinguish between life itself, and the causes of living which are worthy of man; or between life and those noble enjoyments arising from a sense of virtue and merit, without which life is vilely prostituted—between<135>

But we have a nobler relish.Now in order to be convinced that we have such a sense, let any one but ask himself, (for it is, as hath been often said, a question that depends upon inward experience) whether there be not a very wide, a total difference, between doing a good action because it is good,And therefore we have a moral sense. or from love and affection to good, and a thorow feeling of its excellence, and doing it merely because it will gain him some external advantage or pleasure. Let him take the poets catechism, and strictly examine himself and his natural sentiments by it.Else what foundation have the poet’s questions? by which if we try ourselves, our moral sense will soon speak out its real sentiments.

• Falsus honor juvat, & mendax infamia terret,
• Quem, nisi mendosum & mendacem? Vir bonus est quis?
• Qui consulta patrum, qui leges juraque servat. ———
• Sed videt hunc omnis domus & vicinia tota,
• Introrsum turpem, speciosum pelle decora.
• Nec furtum feci, nec fugi, si mihi dicat
• Servus: habes precium, loris non ureris, aio:
• Non hominem occidi: non pasces in cruce corvos.
• Sum bonus & frugi: renuit, negat atque Sabellus.
• Cautus enim metuit foveam lupus accipiterque,
• Suspectos laqueos, & opertum milvus hamum.
• Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore.
• Tu nihil admittes in te formidine poenae.
• Sit spes fallendi, miscebis sacra profanis.

• Hor. Epist. Lib. I. 16.42

No man can put himself to a proper trial by examination, without feeling he has a moral sense.Let him ask his heart, whether he can approve himself; or think he will be approved by any being who hath a sense of worth and integrity, however cunning, prudent and sagacious he may be to secure his outward interests; unless he hath a heart that contemns all villany; and would not sacrifice integrity in any one indulgence to the highest pleasures<136> of sense: The “jus fasque animo sanctosque recessus mentis & incoctum generoso pectus honesto?”43 Whether he can chuse but detest all treachery, all villany, all baseness, all dishonesty, however profitable it may be in the ordinary way of sensual appetite and gratification. Whether he can represent to his mind the images of veracity, truth, honesty, benevolence, a sincere, unaffected regard to honour and virtue; and the calm regular presidence of reason and moral conscience in the heart, without approving and loving them. And whether, finally, he can conceive a greater plague than that imprecated by the satyrist’s direful curse,

To be satisfied of the universality of this sense, let one but try the lowest of mankind in understanding, and fairly representing to him the virtues and vices, bring forth his natural, his first sentiments about them; for he shall find that even the most illiterate have a strong moral sense. Quae enim natio non comitatem, non benignitatem, non gratum animum & beneficii memorem diligit, quae superbos, quae maleficos, quae crudeles, quae ingratos non aspernatur non odit?45

It is absurd to suppose a moral sense not to be from nature.Indeed, if these sentiments of virtue and vice common to all men, and which none can fully extirpate from their minds, are not from nature, but are the offspring of flattery upon pride, and begot by the devices of cunning politicians; we are, that is, society is much more indebted to such politics than to nature: for such sentiments are the bond, the cement which holds society together, without which nothing that is truly great or noble could subsist in human life. But how ridiculous is it to ascribe them to any thing else but nature? For how can custom, education, example, or study, give us new ideas? “They might make us see private advantage<137> in actions whose uselessness did not at first appear; or give us opinions of some tendency of actions to our detriment, by some nice deductions of reason; or by a rash prejudice, when upon the first view of the action we should have observed no such thing: but they never could have made us apprehend actions as amiable or odious, without any consideration of our own advantage.”a Let such philosophers consider, that it must be a determination previous to reason, which makes us pursue even private good as our end. No end can be intended without desire or affection, and it is nature alone can implant any appetite, any affection or determination in our nature, whether toward private good or publick good; whether toward pleasure of outward sense, or pleasure of inward approbation.Art cannot create. It is equally absurd in the natural and moral world, to suppose that art can create; it can only work upon subjects according to their original properties, and the laws of nature’s appointment, agreeably to which certain effects may be produced upon them. No art can therefore educe from our natures an affection or determination that is not originally there, no more than art can give bodies a property which they have not.

A moral sense does not suppose innate ideas.To assert a determination in our mind to receive the sentiments or simple ideas of approbation or disapprobation from actions so soon as they are presented, antecedent to any opinions of advantage or loss to redound to ourselves from them, is not to assert innate ideas, or innate knowledge; it is only to assert an aptitude or determination in our nature to be affected in a certain manner so soon as they occur to the mind. And this must be true with regard to the mind in respect of every pleasure it receives, that it is fitted by nature to receive it. But it is well worth observing, “That though we have no innate ideas, in the sense now commonly affixed to these words; yet as in the sensible kinds of objects, the <138>species, the images of bodies, colours and sounds are perpetually moving before our eyes, and actinga on our senses, even when we sleep, so in the moral and intellectual kind, the forms and images are no less active and incumbent on the mind at all seasons, and even when the real objects themselves are absent.But moral ideas are continually haunting our mind. But in these vagrant characters or pictures of manners, which the mind of necessity figures to itself, and carries still about with it, the heart cannot remain neutral, but constantly takes part with one or other: however false and corrupt it may be within itself, it finds the difference as to beauty and comeliness between one heart and another, one turn of affection, one sentiment, one behaviour from another; and accordingly, in all disinterested cases must approve in some manner what is natural and honest, and disapprove what is dishonest and corrupt.” Whether we will or not, moral ideas are always haunting and assaulting us: we must not only shun the world, but shun and avoid ourselves to get entirely rid of them. And let the most hardened, callous wretch, the most abandoned to all sense of honour, shame and integrity that ever existed say, if he dares in a serious conversation with himself approve one vice, or disapprove one virtue, however profitable the one, or disadvantageous the other may be.

Nature therefore hath not left us quite indifferent to virtue and vice.Thus then we see how we are constituted, with regard to a rule and standard of action, and that nature has not left us quite indifferent to virtue and vice,b but hath planted in us a natural sense,<139> which as often as consulted, will not fail to tell us our duty and set us right; and which, let it be opposed or born down with ever so much violence, or lulled asleep by whatever delusive arts, will often uncalled upon, tell the villain to his face he is such, and bitterly tear his guilty mind with agonizing remorse, terrible beyond expression. And who can bear the horrid pangs of a guilty, self-condemning heart, conscious of the worth and excellence of abandoned virtue, and of the baseness, the enormous baseness of every vice, whatever advantages it may bring? We had therefore good reason to say with respect to knowledge, in the first chapter, that nature hath kindly provided us with a natural sense which leads and prompts us to enquire after good, final causes in the administration of nature, and thus directs us to an enquiry the most assistant to virtuous temper, and of the most pleasing kind; and which at the same time directs us in every case, if we will but consult it, to our duty, or to what is excellent, laudable and praise-worthy in itself, independently of all computations with respect to private good, or interest. This sense is therefore justly said to be engraven on our hearts, innate, original, and universal.

But our moral sense, like all our other faculties, must depend on our own culture or care to improve it.But then such is our excellent make in general, that this rational sense or moral conscience common to all men, must, like all our other faculties, depend for its strength and improvement upon our culture; <140>a upon our care to preserve, to nourish and improve it. Such, as has been observed, is our frame in general; and therefore, though this sense can no more be produced by education, where it is wanting, than an ear for music; yet as the latter, so the former is greatly improveable by instruction and exercise: both may be rendered less delicate, nay, almost quite dead and insensible; or at least they may be considerably vitiated by wrong practice, by unnatural associations of ideas, through the influence of bad example, and other depraving methods; but both are improveable to a great pitch of perfection by proper pains, and both require cultivation to their improvement. And certainly, with regard to the latter, it is the great business of education, and the great business throughout the whole life of every one, to keep it in due exercise, to preserve it from being corrupted by bad opinions and wrong associations of ideas, or over-powered by contrary, corrupt, head-strong affections: and for this reason very often to reflect seriously upon it, as the dignity of our nature, and to recal to our mind all the motives and considerations which tend to uphold and corroborate it; to accustom ourselves to review our actions, and to pass judgments, not only upon what we have done, but upon what we ought to do in circumstances that may occur: and in fine, thus to accustom our moral sense to work and act, that it<141> may be rendered by the law of habits habitual to us, and may become larger, and more comprehensive than it can be at first; that is, abler to take in complex ideas, and so to judge of wide and extensive objects: till like a well formed ear or eye, it is capable to judge easily and readily, as well as truly, of any the most complicated piece of harmony. Now nothing is more conducive to such improvement of it, next to exercising it about examples, in judging and pronouncing sentence, (which must be the chief thing) than the philosophical consideration of its analogy to our sense of beauty in material forms, and of the connexion in both cases between beauty and utility. In this sense, and in this sense only, can the love of virtue be taught. But this leads me to enquire, how interest and virtue agree, according to the constitution and laws of our nature. For if it shall be found, that in the moral world, as well as in the natural, utility or advantage is inseparately connected with beauty; then must our frame be an excellent whole.Conclusion. “For hitherto we have found our nature to be admirably well constituted, with regard to virtue and vice, or moral conduct.”

CHAPTER V

Another class of laws.Let us therefore enquire into the laws of our nature, relative to utility or interest, to private and publick good; the natural end and happiness of every man in particular, and of society or our kind in general.

Those relative to interest or private and public good.One of the best modern writers on morals has given us a very accurate division of the chief questions relative to morality.a “The firstis, to know (says he) whether there are not some actions or affections which obtain the approbation of any spectator or<142> observer, and others which move his dislike and condemnation. Now this question, as every man can answer for himself, so universal experience and history shew that in all nations it is so; and consequently the moral sense is universal. 2. Whether there be any particular quality, which, whenever it is perceived, gains approbation, and the contrary raises disapprobation? Now we shall find this quality to be kind affection or study of the public good of others.The serveral enquiries about morals classed. And thus the moral senses of men are generally uniform. About these two questions there is little reasoning: we know how to answer them by reflecting on our own sentiments, or by consulting others. 3. But what actions do really evidence kind affections, or do really tend to the greatest public good? About this question is all the special reasoning of those who treat of particular laws of nature, or even civil laws. This is the largest field, and the most useful subject of reasoning, which remains upon every scheme of morals. 4. What are the motives, which even from self-love, would excite each individual to do those actions which are particularly useful. Now it is probable, indeed, no man would approve as virtuous, an action publickly useful, to which the agent was only excited by self-love, without any kind affection: it is also probable, that no view of interest can raise that kind affection which we approve as virtuous; nor can any reasoning do it, except that which shews some moral goodness, or kind affections in the objects; for this never fails, when it is observed or supposed in any person to raise the love of the observer; so that virtue cannot be taught. Yet since all men have naturally self-love, as well as kind affections, the former may often counteract the latter, or the latter the former: in each case, the agent is in some degree uneasy and unhappy. The first rash views of human affairs often represent private interest as opposite to the public: when it is apprehended self-love<143> may often engage men in public hurtful actions, which their moral sense will condemn, and this is the ordinary course of vice. To represent these motives of self-interest to engage men to publickly useful actions, is therefore the most necessary point in morals.” Now this is what I proceed to consider, in order to shew that by the laws of our nature, what the moral sense approves or virtue is private, as well as public good; and what the moral sense disapproves or vice is private as well as public ill.

Beauty is inseparply connected with uility thrughout all nature.I. And first of all I would observe, that there is no philosophical subject which affords more pleasure to the mind, than the consideration of the strict union and connexion between beauty and utility prevailing throughout nature,a as far as we are able to pry into it; and which therefore must be carefully attended to, and observed in all the arts which imitate nature. It is this union and connexion, (as I have observed in my treatis on ancient painting) between beauty and advantage, or utility in all subjects, natural and moral, throughout the whole of nature that renders nature one, or a beautiful coherent analogous system; and for the same reason renders all the sciences and arts one body, or makes them so intimately related and so inseparable one from another.

It is so in all the imitative arts, architecture, painting, &c.Tho’ beauty be an agreeable perception excited in us, necessarily and immediately on the first sight or contemplation of certain objects qualified by nature<144> to affect our mind with that pleasing idea; yet when we come to examine these objects attentively, we find, that wherever we perceive beauty, there is truth, proportion, regularity and unity of design to bring about, by a proper variety of parts, one advantageous end: one useful end that could not be accomplished by simpler or fewer means. That is to say, wherever we find beauty we find utility. Whatever is beautiful is advantageous, consonant or well contrived for a good end.

Every one who has any notion of architecture, painting or statuary, will immediately perceive that in all these arts, this connexion is so necessary, so unalterable, that it is not possible to deviate from utility without falling proportionably short of beauty to the sight: or alternately, the rules in architecture which produce beauty are all founded on utility, or necessarily produce it. And in the other arts of design, the truth and beauty of every figure is measured from the perfection of nature in her just adapting every limb and part to the activity, strength, dexterity, and vigour of the particular species designed. Now, what is the reason of this?Because it is so in nature the standard of truth. But, because it is so in nature, where universally the proportionate and regular state is the truly prosperous and natural one in every subject. Health of the body is the just proportion, truth and regular course of things, or the sound ballance of parts in our constitution. The same features which produce deformity, create incommodiousness and disease. It is so in our mundan system.And as it is in the human body, so is it every where throughout nature. The sound state is the beautiful one. Whence it is justly laid down, by the ancients, as an universal canon with regard to arts and sciences, and with regard also to moral conduct, because it is everywhere true or an universal law of nature, “That just proportions and beauty are inseparably connected with utility.” Nunquam a vero dividitur utile.46 What is<145> beautiful is good and useful, and what is good and useful is beautiful.

Is not the order of our mundan system most transportingly beautiful and pleasant in idea or contemplation? But do not the same general laws which produce that delightful ravishing beauty, order and greatness, like-wise tend to the greatest good and advantage of the whole system? What law can be altered without introducing inconveniencies proportionable to irregularity? And what is it that charms us when we survey with rapture the beauty of the mundan system? Is it not the simplicity and the consent of the few laws which hold such a vast complication of mighty orbs in due and advantageous order?And on the bodies of all animals. And when we contemplate the human body, or any other animal structure; or in general, wherever we see beauty and order in nature, what is it we find to be the basis of all that beauty and order which so strongly attracts us?—Is it not the simplicity, the frugality, the analogy, and constancy of nature, in bringing about an useful end; or, in disposing, adjusting, and compounding various parts, so as may best serve a particular good end, without either too little or too much? All that we admire, as has been already observed, is fitly expressed in this general rule observed steadily by nature. Nil frustra natura facit.47 ,a Which frustra is likewise very well defined<146> by Frustra fit pluribus quod fieri potest paucioribus.48 And therefore with regard to all arts which imitate nature, poetry, painting, architecture and statuary; and even with regard to all reasonings, arrangements of truths, or demonstrations in the sciences, this is the only rule to attain to beauty, truth and utility.

It is, and must be so likewise with respect to the fabrick of the human mind, affections, actions, and characters.Now, as it is with regard to the sensible world, and to all arts and sciences, so is it also with respect to our mental fabrick: its health, soundness, and beauty, consist in the due ballance of all its powers and affections, or in just subordination to a well improved moral sense. This produces moral beauty in affections, in actions, and in character or temper; and this temper is the most advantageous one: It is the sound, the healthful, the natural, the most pleasant state: Every exercise of the affections and powers, in such a constitution is beautiful, and it is pleasant: Agreeable in immediate feeling, and good and agreeable in its consequences: every deviation, by whatever affection, from this temper or state, is proportional deformity, disease and suffering. And, finally, in proportion as the mind is nearer to this its perfect state, or further removed from it, so it is in all its exercises more happy or more wretched.

The proof of this must be fetched from the anatomy or texture of the mind.II. To prove this, we must consider the nature of our affections, their operations, and their mutual bearings, dependencies and connexions. The solution<147> to this question must be fetched from the anatomy or structure of the mind, in like manner, as the answer to any questions about the natural, or sound, and advantageous state of the body, must be brought from the science of its oeconomy and texture. Now, my Lord Shaftsbury, in his enquiry concerning virtue, has fully demonstrated, “That, according to our make and frame, or the laws of our nature, the same affections which work towards public good, work likewise towards private good, and the same affections which work towards public ill work likewise towards private ill.”50 I shall not repeat his arguments to prove this, but ’tis well worth while to take particular notice of the manner in which he proceeds; because its an excellent example of the way in which moral philosophy ought to be carried on, and in which alone indeed it can bring forth solid conclusions.

Lord Shaftsbury’s reasoning to prove it.First, he takes notice, “that no animal can properly be said to act otherwise, than through affections or passions, such as are peculiar to that animal. For, in convulsive fits, when a creature either strikes himself or others, it is a simple mechanism, an engine or piece of clock-work that acts, and not the animal. Whatsoever then is done or acted by an animal as such, is done only through some affections, as of fear, love, or hatred moving him: and as it is impossible that a weaker passion should overcome a stronger; so it is impossible when the affections or passions are strongest in the main, and form in general the most considerable party either by their force or number, but thither the animal must incline.”51 “Nothing therefore being properly goodness or illness in a creature, except what is from natural temper; a good creature is such a one as by the natural bent of its temper or affections, is carried presently52 and immediately, not secondarily and accidentally to good and against ill. And an ill creature is just the contrary, viz. one who is wanting in right affections of force enough to<148> carry him directly towards good, and bear him out against ill, or who is carried by other affections directly to ill and against good.”53 2. “But to proceed, says he, from what is esteemed meer goodness, and lies within the reach and capacity of all sensible creatures, to that which is called virtue or merit, and allowed to man only.”54 “In this case alone, it is that we call any creature worthy or virtuous, when it can have the notion of a public interest, and can attain the speculation or science of what is morally good or ill, admirable or blameable, right or wrong. For tho’ we may vulgarly call an ill horse vicious, yet we never say of a good one, or of any meer beast, ideot or changeling, that he is worthy or virtuous. So that if a creature be generous, kind, constant, compassionate, yet if he cannot reflect on what he himself does, or sees others do, 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 right and wrong, a sentiment or judgment of what is done, through just, equal, and good affection, or the contrary.”55

Having thus defined and distinguished goodness and virtue, he observes, that “the affections or passions which must govern the animal, are either, 1. The natural affections which lead to the good of the public. 2. Or the self-affections which lead to the good of the private. 3. Or such, as neither of these, not tending to any good of the public or private; but contrariwise: and which may therefore be justly stiled unnatural affections.

“So that according as these affections stand, a creature must be either virtuous or vicious, good or ill; the later sort of these affections, ’tis evident, are wholly vicious; the two former may be vicious or virtuous according to their degree.<149>

“It may seem strange, says our author, to speak of natural affections as too strong, or of self-affections as too weak: but to clear this difficulty, we must call to mind, that natural affection may in particular cases be excessive, and in an unnatural degree; as when pity is so overcoming as to destroy its own end, and prevent the succour and relief required: or as when love to the offspring proves such fondness as destroys the parent, and consequently the off spring itself. And, notwithstanding, it may seem harsh to call that unnatural and vicious, which is only an extream of some natural and kind affection; yet it is most certain, that whenever any single good affection of this sort is over great, it must be injurious to the rest, and detract in some measure from their force and natural operation.”56 This he illustrates at great length. “But having shewn what is meant by passions being too high or in too low a degree, and that to have any natural affection too high, and any self-affection too low, tho’ it be often approved as virtue, is yet strictly speaking a vice and imperfection; he now comes to the plainer and more essential part of vice, and which alone deserves to be considered as such, that is to say. 1. When either the public affections are weak and deficient. 2. Or the private and self-affections too strong. 3. Or that such affections arise, as are neither of these, nor in any degree tending to the support either of the public or private system.

“Otherwise than this, it is impossible any creature can be such as we call ill or vicious. So that if once we prove that ’tis not the creature’s interest to be thus viciously affected, but contrariwise; we shall then have proved, that it is his interest to be wholly good and virtuous in his action and behaviour: our business therefore, says he, will be to prove,

“1. That to have the natural, kindly or generous affections strong and powerful towards the good of the public, is to have the chief means and power of<150> self-enjoyment, and that to want them is certain misery and ill. 2. That to have the private or self-affections too strong, or beyond that degree of subordinacy to the kindly and natural, is also miserable. 3. And that to have the unnatural affections, (viz. such as are neither founded on the interest of the kind or public, nor of the private person or creature himself) is to be miserable in the highest degree.”57

Now all these points he has clearly proved, in the way of moral arithmetic, by a full examination of all our affections, private or public, and their effects and consequences. Whence he concludes, that virtue is the good, and vice the ill of every one by our natural constitution. But for his arguments, I must refer the reader to himself. I have only taken notice of his way of proceeding, to shew by this example how enquiries into the human mind ought to be carried on.

Another train of reasoning to prove that virtue is private interest.That virtue is the natural good, and vice the natural evil of every one, has been evinced by several different ways of reasoning. And I think the few following propositions, which are universally owned to be true, not only amount to a full proof of it, but likewise shew that the truth is universally received and admitted.

1. It will not be disputed, that wherever the natures and connexions of pleasures and pains are fixed, there must be real differences with regard to greater and less; this must hold true in every case, as necessarily as in any one case. If therefore the natures and proportions of moral objects are fixed and determinate things, there must necessarily be in the nature of things with regard to them, as well as any other kinds of quantity, a truth and falshood of the case, a true and a false account or estimation. And therefore with respect to them, it must be our business to attain to as full a knowledge of their true values as we can, in order to make a just judgment or estimation of them. This is prudence: and prudence necessarily<151> supposes wherever it can take place, the natures or moments of things to be ascertainable. 2. But such prudence with regard to our moral conduct we can attain to; for, notwithstanding all the diversity there is among mankind in constitution, and consequently in sensibility with respect to sentiments, affections, passions, desires, uneasinesses, and, in one word, sensations of whatever kind, inward or outward; yet there is obviously such a conformity in feeling, and sentiment amongst mankind,a that it is unanimously agreed, that there is not only a real satisfaction in every exercise of social and kindly affections, but a pleasure which never cloys or ends in disgust, and which is, in that respect, superior to all the enjoyments of meer sense. And, on the other hand, the unnatural passions, such as hatred, envy, malice, misanthropy, or utter aversion to society, are allowed with universal consent, to produce compleat misery, where they are habitual and wrought into temper. But, 3. If that be true, then every step in the nature of things towards the establishment of bad and unsocial temper, must be a step toward the introduction of compleat misery into the mind; and contrariwise, every indulgence of social affection,<152> every virtuous exercise, must be an advancement toward fixing and settling that benign, generous, good temper, which is compleat joy, chearfulness and self-contentment; and therefore is commonly called the happy temper. Where there is an absolute degeneracy, a total apostacy from all candor, equity, trust, sociableness, or friendship, there are none who do not see and acknowledge the misery which is consequent: but the calamity must of necessity hold proportion with the corruption of the temper. It is impossible that it can be compleat misery, to be absolutely immoral and inhuman, and yet be no misery or ill at all to be so in any however little degree. But, besides, it is beyond all controversy, that habitudes are formed by repeated acts. Every indulgence therefore to any passion, has a tendency to fix and settle it in the mind, or to form it into temper and habit. And thus, tho’ there were no considerable ill in any one exercise of immoral affection; yet it must be contrary to interest, as it necessarily tends in consequence of the structure of our minds, that is, the dependence of our affections, to bring on the habitual temper; which is owned to be compleat misery: so far therefore our prudent part is easily descernible. Now, 4. With respect to all outward conveniencies and advantages, by the unanimous consent of all mankind, temperance is allowed universally, not only to be the best preservative of health, without which there can be no enjoyment; but to be necessary, to be able to relish pleasures in the highest degree; to be sauce to them, if one may use that vulgar phrase. And honesty is likewise owned to be the best policy: or the safest, the securest way of living and acting in society; nay, indeed the only way of securing to ourselves any solid or durable happiness. But these two truths being owned, they together with the foregoing propositions prove, “That, by the unanimous consent of mankind, founded upon universal experience, it is prudent to<153> be virtuous, and foolish to be vicious; or that virtue is the private good of every one, in all views, whether with respect to temper of mind, or outward security and advantage.” Indeed such is the universal agreement among mankind with respect to the good consequences of virtuous behaviour, and the bad ones of every vice, that there is no country in which at all times the chief virtues have not been recommended from the advantages naturally redounding from them; and, on the other hand, almost all vices are condemned on account of the disadvantages naturally resulting from them, by familiar proverbs in every one’s mouth? This we shall find to be true, if we but look into the collections of proverbs of different nations. For where, for instance, or in what nation however barbarous, is not cunning distinguished from true prudence; and are not temperance, honesty, faithfulness and generosity or benevolence, strongly inculcated by some very expressive apothegm? Nor can it indeed be otherwise, so plain and evident are the good effects of virtue, and the bad consequences of vice; and so clearly distinguishable is virtue in every case from its contrary.

• Ask your own heart, and nothing is so plain,
• ’Tis to mistake them, costs the time and pain.58

But the question we are now upon is of such moment, that it is well worth while to give a short view of some of the different ways ancient philosophers have taken to shew, that virtue is man’s natural end; at once his dignity and his happiness.

The way Cicero reasons about our natural end, dignity and happiness, shewing that all these must mean the same thing.I. If we would know (says Cicero) for what end man is made and fitted, let us analyse his structure, and consider for what end it is adapted; for thus only can we know the end of any constitution, frame, or whole. Now if we look into the frame and constitution of man, and carefully<154> examine its parts and their references to one another, we shall plainly see, says he,a that it is fitted for those four virtues, prudence, benevolence, magnanimity, and moderation, or harmony and decorum; for these four virtues are nothing else but his four most distinguishing natural powers and dispositions, brought by due culture to their perfection. There are, says he, in our constitution, together with the desire of self-preservation, common to all perceptive beings, four distinguishing principles which render man capable of a peculiar dignity, perfection and happiness, superior to what merely perceptive beings can attain to. “The desire of knowledge, or the love of truth, and the capacity of attaining to it; a social disposition, or the love of public good, and the capacity of intending and pursuing it.” The desire of power and dominion, principatus, or of making ourselves great and able to do much good to ourselves and others, and the capacity of attaining to great esteem, power, and authority among mankind. And lastly, the sense and love of harmony, order, beauty, and consistency in our behaviour, and the capacity of attaining to a regular and orderly administration of our appetites.

These are the endowments, dispositions, and capacities which constitute our distinguishing excellence, or give us a higher rank in being, than the merely sensitive appetites which we have in common with other animals: but if it be so, then must the improvement<155> of these powers and principles in our nature to the highest pitch of perfection they can be brought to, be our highest end, our duty, our dignity, our happiness, if these words have any meaning at all. And accordingly all the virtues and graces which adorn man, or make him perfect and happy, may be reduced to four, which are nothing else but the best improvements of these our four above mentioned distinguishing powers and principles; prudence, benevolence, magnanimity and moderation. ’Tis these virtues mixing and blending together, which make up the beauty and greatness of actions, the beauty and greatness of life, and the proper happiness of man as man: that is, it is in the exercise of these virtues in proportion to their improvement, that all the happiness we can enjoy which is peculiar to us as intelligent rational beings of a higher order than meer sensitive animals consists. This reasoning must be just, if these principles do really take place in our nature; for if they do, they must be placed there, in order to work together jointly in proper proportions, or with forces duly and proportionally regulated and combined; and the perfection of our nature must necessarily consist in their so working; that is, in our taking care that they be all duly improved, and have all of them due exercise. If these principles do really belong to us, then it as necessarily follows that we are made by nature for acquiring and exercising prudence, benevolence, and magnanimity, and for reducing all our sensual appetites into comely and decent order; as that the perfection of any piece of mechanism, must lie in its operating regularly towards the end for which its whole structure consisting of various powers, proportioned to one another, and duly combined, is fitted. It cannot be more true, that the perfection of clockwork consists in its aptitude to measure time regularly, than that the<156> perfection of a being, endowed with the powers and dispositions fitted for acquiring knowledge, perceiving public good with delight and complacency, and for regulating all its appetites and affections, according to a sense of order, fitness, decency, and greatness, must lie in exercising all those powers and dispositions. To acquire these virtues and exercise them is therefore, with regard to man, to follow nature, and live agreeably to it; for it is to follow and live agreeably to his constitution. Virtue is therefore man’s natural end or excellence, in any sense that any thing can be said to have a natural end or excellence.

Now having fixed this point, Cicero,a after explaining fully the several exercises of these powers which by being duly improved to their perfection are the human virtues or duties, and the imperfections to which these powers are liable, thro’ neglect of proper culture and discipline, or misguidance; he proceeds to shew, that credit, reputation, esteem, love, power, authority, health, self-enjoyment, and all the advantages of life, are the natural effects and consequences of prudence, benevolence, fortitude of mind, and rightly moderated appetites; and that every vicious indulgence or neglect is as dangerous and hurtful, according to the natural course of things, as it is base and contrary to the perfection to which we are made to attain. And indeed it cannot be disputed, that it is the real interest of every man to be good, since the villain finds himself obliged to assume the semblance of virtue; and it is much easier to be really good, than to act the counterfeit part successfully; for how rarely is one able to carry on a scheme of villany under a masque,<157> without being discovered; and what are all the advantages of life, if reputation is lost?

• For riches, can they give but to the just
• His own contentment, or another’s trust?
• Judges and senates have been bought for gold,
• Esteem and love were never to be sold.

• Essay on man, Epist. 4.59

Virtue is the surest way, according to the natural course of things to health, safety, peace, esteem, and to all the goods of life: it of itself makes or causes no unhappiness; it naturally produces no hurtful consequences, and even from the vicious, virtue commands esteem and respect. But without the love and esteem of mankind, how miserable must man be!a He is a disjointed limb, forlorn and destitute; for no limb is more dependent on the well-being of the rest, and its union with the whole body, than every man is upon society.

Upon what the arguments of ancient philosophers, to prove that virtue is private good, chiefly turn or depend.But the main stress of ancient reasoning to prove that virtue is happiness lies upon this, “That man is so made that the pleasures of the mind, i.e. of knowledge and virtue, are far superior to those of sense; and that even the best enjoyments of sense are those which the virtuous man receives from his temperate and well regulated gratifications.” Not only is it in consequence of our make the highest satisfaction which one can enjoy, to be able to approve our conduct to reason and to a moral sense; but so are we also framed, that social exercises, virtuous affections, and the temperate use of bodily pleasures are the gratifications which afford us the most exquisite touches of joy and satisfaction<158> in the way of immediate sensation, and their contraries are really painful. Whatever may be the course of outward circumstances, it is virtue alone that can make truly happy, even in immediate enjoyment, abstracting from all the pleasures of reflection upon good conduct. For external goods or means of happiness are only ministers of true satisfaction to those, whose reason and moral conscience preside over all their pursuits, and prescribe all their enjoyments. This is evident, if we take a complete view of our frame; and to prove it, I think, among many other considerations, the following are sufficient: and they are all taken from ancient writers; for the advantageousness or utility of virtue is no new discovery.

The happiness of an insect or brute can only make an insect or brute happy. A nature with further powers must have further enjoyments. The happiness of a being must be of a kind with its faculties, powers and disposition; or, in one word, with its constitution, because it must result from it. Man therefore, considering the powers and dispositions he is endowed with, must have another happiness, another set of enjoyments in order to be satisfied, than a being merely consisting of senses, without reason, conscience of merit, a public sense and generous affections. It is only a reasonable and moral happiness that can satisfy moral powers and dispositions; so that a man must first divest himself of his moral powers and dispositions before he can be made happy by mere sense alone. ’Tis true, he is not merely made for moral or intellectual happiness, being a sensitive as well as a rational creature, or a compound of these two natures. But being a compounded being, even his sensitive happiness must be rational as well as sensitive, in order to be fitted to his constitution; that is, his sensitive appetites, and their gratifications must be guided and ruled by his rational part, and partake of it.<159> Accordingly we have many a plain, incontestible experiment of the insufficiency of the most advantageous circumstances of outward enjoyment to make happy. But we have none of unhappiness produced by a well regulated mind, or well governed affections; none of unhappiness produced by the presidence of reason and virtue over our conduct. For how many are extremely happy through virtue, not only in mean but in distressed circumstances; and who are they whom affluence and wealth alone, without any assistance from virtue, have made so much as easy and contented? How tiresome is the circle of mere sensual indulgences to man in consequence of his frame! Let the fretfulness, the peevishness, the spleen, the disgusts of those, who with large estates are strangers to the luxury of doing good witness! All their complaints are so many demonstrations that virtue alone is happiness, and that they who seek it any where else do indeed labour in vain.

We are not made for sensual pleasures, but for them of the mind, or rational pleasures.Ifa we consider our frame, we shall find that the end of man is not to seek after merely sensual pleasures; but, on the contrary, he is made to raise his mind above them, and to receive more<160> satisfaction from nobly despising them, than from enjoying them in the way of ordinary appetite. It is not only greater, but it is pleasanter because it is greater to contemn all pomp, pageantry, and sensuality, than to possess the means of them. Virtue, in its original signification, means strength of mind, or such firmness as is able to withstand all temptation, whether from the side of enchanting pleasure, or from terrifying pain, rather than contradict our natural sense of what is fit and becoming; and there is not only a pleasure arising from the conscience of such strength of mind upon reflexion which is ineffable, but there is a divine satisfaction in every act of such fortitude.

Some of the ancients divided virtue thus defined into two principal parts or branches,a “Being able to deny ourselves any sensible pleasure, if reason or our moral sense forbid the indulgence: being able to withhold from the fairest promises of pleasure, till we have fully considered their pretensions, and what our moral conscience says of the fitness or unfitness of the pursuit. And being able, on the other hand, to endure with magnanimity any pain rather than counteract our sense of honour, esteem and true merit.” And man, instead of being made for voluptuousness, is made for those virtues, sustinence and abstinence. In exerting these he feels more sincere delight, than in wallowing in sensuality; because he is made to love power. We cannot have these virtues in perfection, but as all other perfections and habits<161> are acquired, but we are made to attain to them by exercise and application. Virtue is, and must be, in the nature of things, a progress. But tho’ it be a progress, a study, a struggle, a violent struggle, in like manner as getting to perfection in any science or art is; yet it is a pleasant exercise, a pleasant struggle in every step. Man is made for exercise, for making acquisitions by labour and industry. And therefore exercise is necessary to the welfare and pleasant feeling, so to speak, both of body and mind. And this is the exercise for which man is best fitted, and in which he feels the highest pleasure, even the vigorous efforts of his mind to improve his rational powers, to keep his sensitive appetites in due subjection to reason, or to obtain the mastership and command of them, and of himself.The virtuous pursuit alone can gratify our natural desire of power and dominion engrafted in us for that purpose. Virtue is therefore at the same time, that it is asserted to be man’s pleasantest employment, very justly represented by the ancients as a warfare, as a striving for victory, as contending after perfection, and mounting up towards it. It indeed chiefly consists in conquering our sensual concupiscences; and in submitting them to the rule and government of reason: but it does not follow from this, that virtue is not happiness. This brave warfare is at once our honour and our happiness; For thus alone can the natural greatness of the human mind, or its ardent desire of power, dominion and independency be satisfied. It is true, virtue is not so delightful in its first steps, as it becomes in proportion as it improves. We must distinguish here in the same manner as with regard to any science or art: as there the first elements are harsh and only afford pleasure to students, because they know they must ascend by degrees to perfection; and that the science, when once they have made any considerable advances in it, will well reward their labour and become easier, and that they are suitably employing<162> their time and talents: so is it likewise in the first steps of virtue, especially if one has bad habits and long indulged, impetuous, passions to grapple with and conquer. But virtue, like science or art, becomes more pleasant as one improves or proceeds in it. When one is become master of his passions, and virtuous inclinations are become, as it were, the bent of the soul, then all goes smoothly and equally on; and in the mean time the gradual advancement recompenses all the labour it requires, because the mind feels itself greaten, feels itself suitably employed, and feels its power and dominion increase. We have already mentioned some good effects of the greatness of our mind, with relation to knowledge; but herein chiefly does its usefulness consist, that it moves us to seek after true strength of mind; and no power, no dominion affords satisfaction to the mind of man equal to that power over ourselves and our appetites, to excite us to endeavour after which the desire of greatness was implanted in us. It is because the natural desire of power must be satisfied in some manner that other power is sought; and it is because this true power, the sweetest and pleasantest of all power, is not earnestly contended for, that the mind, if it is not employed in the pursuit of some false species of power, preys upon itself, frets and sours; and becomes at last quite languid and insensible, or quite cankered and insupportable. But the mind gradually greatning and expanding itself, as it advances in the dominion which virtue gives, is ever pleased and happy; for thus a natural and essential appetite of our nature is gratified, even the desire of power, (principatus,60 as Cicero calls it).a The extensive power <163> to which inward independence and self-command is absolutely requisite.

Some other considerations on the same subject, taken from ancient authors.Let me subjoin to all this, in order to illustrate a point of the greatest importance in the philosophy of our nature, the three following considerations, all of which are likewise urged by ancient authors with a beauty and force of expression I am not able to approach.

Virtue saves and delivers from many evils, it brings no pains along with it; it is the only support under accidental calamities, and frequently brings good from them, and converts them into real benefits to ourselves and others. Its enjoyments never fade or become insipid, but on the contrary wax more pleasant and delightful by use and practice. And as true virtue knows no reward, but in the exercises and fruitions of more improved and exalted virtue, so it is pregnant with the most comfortable, joyous hopes.

I. Virtue saves from many terrible evils, the natural concomitants or followers of vice. Ignorance is full of doubts and fears, from which knowledge of nature, or of the real connexions of things, delivers: for he who encreaseth in knowledge, increaseth in strength; the wise man is strong; he is steady and immoveable, but the ignorant are weak and feeble, a reed shaken with every wind. And it is the calm undisturbed empire of reason over the appetites that saves from inward riot and tumult, and preserves the mind in that serene chearful state, without which it is impossible to relish any pleasure in the happiest circumstances of outward enjoyment: that chearful estate which is health to<164> the heart, and marrow to the bones. For nothing can please the man who is displeased with himself; and the vicious person cannot bear to see his own image. What vice is not either painful in the immediate exercise, or brings suffering after it, or is in both these respects a great evil and mischief, as well as base and unworthy: for abstracting from the ill consciousness which the vicious mind, ever self-condemned, cannot escape or fly from, does not envy torture the mind, emaciate the body, and render one contemptible, or rather hateful, as a common enemy, which he must necessarily be considered to be? Does not avarice cark and corrode with the vile double cares of hoarding and guarding, starve the body, and eat up the soul?a Does not intemperance and sensuality surfeit, sicken, and at last destroy the very sense of pleasure, and load the body with wearisome, fatiguing pains? Are not anger and revenge a boiling, scorching fever? The little pleasure they afford when their end is accomplished, what else is it but a short-lived relaxation from the most tormenting pain, which is quickly followed by remorse and just fears? And malice, or Misanthropy, is it not misery; universal and constant bitterness of mind? It is an invenomed heart always throwing out its poison, and yet never relieved from the cruel, inward rackings<165> of its exhaustless gall and discontent. Now virtue, or well regulated affections, save from all those miseries of body and mind, which vice pulls upon us inevitably, in consequence of the frame of our minds, and the connexions of things, that the mind may fly from every tendency towards the immoral state: that it may guard against vice as its greatest enemy, as well as debaser, and run to virtue as its health and peace, its preserver, upholder and comforter, as well as its exalter and ennobler.

What pain does temperance bring along with it? What disturbance did ever goodness and generosity produce within the breast? Or what mischievous consequence, can we say any of the virtues hath naturally and necessarily attached to it? Do regularity, good humour, and sweetness of temper, and generous affection, incapacitate for the pleasures of sense? Do they not rather double them? And what signifies it to be surrounded with all the best means of pleasure, if the mind is uneasy, or galled and fretted by evil consciousness, or by turbulent peevish appetites and passions. If it be dissatisfied with itself, and keenly set upon some-thing without its reach. And what is there with in our power, or absolutely dependent on ourselves, besides the regulation of our passions and appetites, and their happy effects within ourselves? It is the joys of virtue only which nothing can take from us. The happiness of the sensualist is as independent upon him as the wind or the tide. For do not riches make to themselves wings and fly away?61 whereas a good conscience abideth for ever. Does virtue either bring diseases upon the body, or introduce uneasiness into the mind? Does it render us hateful to others, or deprive us of their esteem, trust and confidence? Does it not, on the contrary, command respect, and excite love, and trustful reliance, self-approbation, and the gladsome sense of merited affection. Must not the vicious man put on the<166> mask, the semblance of virtue, in order not to be marked out for a common enemy; and to gain his selfish, base ends? Dare he declare his inward thoughts to others? Or can he approve of them to himself? Can we be said to be fitted for luxury, debauches and voluptuousness, since the gratifications of sense, when they exceed the bounds which reason prescribes, produce uneasiness, consume the body, and are not more opposite to the exercises of reason and understanding, or even to the pleasures which imagination, when it is well formed and refined yields, so far superior to those of mere sense; than it is to a continued flow of agreeable bodily sensations? Are not a very great share of the very worst distempers and pains with which the body is sometimes so violently tormented, justly attributed to excessive sensual indulgences? Whence else come broken constitutions? Whence else comes rottenness, corruption and insensibility so early upon those who live in riot and wantonness? whilst the sober, the industrious and temperate, are generally healthful and easy, and truly venerable in their old age. The old age in which a well spent life naturally terminates, is full of satisfaction, fit for council, and highly honourable.a

II. Virtue is the only support under calamities, but vice adds to every torture. By accidental calamities, I mean all such, as arising either from the laws of matter and motion, or from our social connexions, are inevitable by prudence and virtue. A disease may be entailed by a father on a son. Virtue often suffers in society through the vices of others; and distempers or losses which flow from the constitution of the air, and other material causes which work uniformly and invariably, must<167> happen alike to all men, good and bad: but under such distresses, virtue can alleviate pain, and bear up the mind. It hath many cordials to relieve and strengthen the soul; but whither can the vicious fly for ease and comfort in such cases? since he dares not look within his own breast, without being yet more exquisitely tormented; nor can he have any satisfaction from the sense of merited esteem and love, but must consider every one of his fellow creatures at best as his despisers: and since spurning and fretting but augments his suffering. A man may sustain bodily infirmities, but a wounded spirit who can bear?62 The horrors of a guilty mind are truly insupportable. On the contrary, wherever the virtuous man is able to turn his thoughts, every object, whether within or without him, affords him pleasant matter of reflexion; and his being able to with-hold himself from complaining and fretting is itself a very comfortable consciousness of becoming strength of mind, or manly patience. But which is more, wisdom and virtue are able not seldom to extract goods out of such evils, and to convert them into blessings. In distresses that leave room for thought, the virtuous make reflexions which are of great use to the temper: this all the good, who have been afflicted, know; nor can it be doubted by any, seeing even the vicious are often brought by distress to a just sense of things; and come forth out of the furnace of affliction purified from much dross and corruption: made fitter for the offices of society, better friends and neighbours, more prudent, regular and virtuous in their conduct, and consequently much happier.

III. In fine, the pleasures of virtue never fade or become insipid: who was ever weary of acts of generosity, friendship and goodness? or who was ever disturbed by the consciousness of order, and worth,<168> and of merit, with all good and wise beings? Whence proceed dissatisfaction, fickleness of appetite, and nauseating amidst the greatest affluence of outward enjoyments, but from selfishness and sensuality, from seeking pleasure where it is not placed by nature, and cannot therefore be found; from endeavouring to derive more satisfaction from external objects than they are capable to afford; and from overstraining our bodily senses, while in the mean time the exercises of reason and social affection are quite discarded, and have no place in our pursuits and employments? Ambition of doing good may not have means equal to its generous desires, or may be disappointed; but the inward sense of good intention, sufficiently rewards all its scheming, all its activity. But selfishness is tormented with continual disappointments, and by the want of means equal to its insatiability; and if it reflects upon itself, is yet more so by the inward consciousness of its worthless, base, sordid demands. It has been often justly observed, that with regard to the pleasures of the body and the mind, the virtuous man, or he who is acquainted with the exercises of reason and virtue, is the properest judge to make a decision as to the preference; since none can say the pleasures of sense are less satisfactory to him, and he alone hath fully experimented the other. But we may appeal even to the vicious, the most sensual and selfish, whether their joys are durable, and do not commonly terminate in disgust and discontent? or whether, if at any time they have felt the workings of the good affections excited in them, and they have indulged them for a little, these were not the happiest moments they ever enjoyed; the only moments which they take delight to call to mind and reflect upon. No man is so corrupt, so lost to all sense of humanity, as not to have, on some occasions, felt so much of the pleasure attending virtuous affections, as to be able to<169> judge of the happiness the habitually good must enjoy; how pure, how constant and unchanging it must be: and he who is thoroughly acquainted with the pleasures of knowledge, of the contemplation of order and beauty, and above all of benevolence, places his happiness so entirely in them, that he can desire no reward, but better opportunities of exercising and improving virtue. The only longings of his soul are after more knowledge, larger views of nature, and better occasions of exercising friendship, goodness, and social love. What other happiness, wholly distinct from this, can be offered to him which he would look upon as a recompence? Would he prefer larger draughts of merely sensual joy to an improved mind, and more entensive insight into the beauty, order, wisdom and goodness in nature? Or would he imagine himself bettered for all his generous, benign, social, public-spirited endeavours, by any change of circumstances, into ease and softness, in which he should never again feel those amiable, transporting workings of a good mind, which are now his supreme delight? Virtue alone can be its own reward: There can be nothing in nature superior to virtue, either in worth and excellence, or in pleasure and satisfaction, but higher and more enlarged virtue; and therefore to suppose it recompensed by any other enjoyments, of whatever kind,a is to suppose it rewarded by being sunk into a merely animal state, consisting of no higher gratifications than those of sense, without the exercises of reason and generous affection. For all other enjoyments are necessarily as much inferior to virtue, as merely animal or vegetative life is to reason and intelligence.<170>

In whatever light therefore we consider virtue, it is man’s highest excellence and happiness, and the end to which his whole moral structure points and prompts him. Tho’ one may suffer by the vices of others, since no evil in society can be single, but as in the natural body, so in every system, where one member suffers, the whole must suffer in some proportion, the more adjacent parts chiefly. And tho’ one may also suffer with all his virtue by means of the necessary operation of those very laws on which many portions of his happiness, as a certain species or a part of a system, depend; yet without virtue no person can have any happiness of the rational kind, and but very little even in the sensitive way, or by gratifying common lower appetites. The reason is, as hath been said, because in the nature of things the happiness of an insect or brute will only make an insect or brute happy: A nature with further powers must have further enjoyments; and therefore, man, considering the power she is endowed with, must have another happiness, another set of enjoyments, in order to be satisfied, than a being merely consisting of senses without reason, conscience of merit, a public sense and generous affections.

All I have been now saying, is most feelingly expressed by our excellent moral Poet.

• What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy,
• The soul’s calm sun-shine, and the heart felt joy,
• Is virtue’s prize: ———63

And again,

• Know, all the good that individuals find,
• Or GOD and nature meant to meer mankind;
• Reason’s whole pleasures, all the joys of sense
• Lie in three words, health, peace, and competence.<171>
• But health consists with temperance alone;
• And peace, O virtue! peace is all thy own:
• The good or bad the gifts of fortune gain;
• But these less taste them, as they worse obtain.
• Say, in pursuit of profit or delight,
• Who risque the most, who take wrong means or right?
• Of vice or virtue, whether blest or curst,
• Which meets contempt, or which compassion first?
• Count all th’ advantage prosp’rous vice attains,
• ’Tis but what virtue flies from, and disdains;
• And grant the bad what happiness they wou’d,
• One they must want, which is, to pass for good.

• Essay on man, Epist. 4.64

Conclusions concerning virtue; that it is interest or private good.Thus then it appears that we are made for virtue; and that it is our truest interest; and that whether we are to subsist after this life or not; it is present happiness, the only present happiness which bears any proportion to our constitution.

Some observations on the disputes among modern moralists about obligation.I shall conclude this article with observing, that philosophers, ancient and modern, have taken routs, which at first view appear very different in establishing the nature of human duty and happiness, but all these terminate in the same conclusion. Whether we consider the fitness of things, the truth of the case, our interest or our dignity, ’twill still come out, that virtue is what man is made for. As for the quibling and jangling about obligation, it is sufficient for us to remark,

I. If by it is meant a moral necessity arising from the power of a superior to enforce his commands, by rewards and punishments, then obligation being so defined, a man cannot be said to be obliged to virtue, but simply in respect of his being under the influence of a superior, who commands him to be virtuous by laws, which he has sufficient power to enforce by rewards and punishments. If by it is meant a moral necessity arising from natural connexions,<172> which make it our interest to behave virtuously, then is man obliged to virtue simply in this respect, (that being then the definition of obligation) because such is the natural order and establishment of things, that virtue is his interest. If by it be meant the same as more reasonable, more becoming, more perfect, &c. then is man obliged to virtue for the sake of virtue, or on account of its becomingness and excellency.

II. Now in all these different views may obligation be taken if philosophers please. And in all these different senses have philosophers proved man to be obliged to virtue: whence it must follow, that when it is owned, that virtue is fit, becoming, reasonable, and our perfection, if man is not allowed to be obliged to virtue in that sense, it must only be because obligation is thought more properly to mean one or other, or both of the other moral necessities, and not the last one named; and so the debate is merely about the use of the word obligation.

III. But it is obvious, that in all reasonings to prove that man is obliged to virtue in the first sense, the fitness or becomingness, or the natural beauty and excellence of virtue, must be laid down as the principle upon which they proceed and are founded. For how else can we know the will of the Deity with regard to our conduct; but by knowing what is in itself best and fittest? For how indeed can we prove the Being of a GOD, unless we have first formed and established, adequate and clear ideas of moral excellence and perfection? ’Till we have conceived what virtue or merit is, we cannot have any idea of GOD, or consequently of what he wills and approves.

IV. With regard to the other sense of obligation in which it means the same as interest. As all reasonings<173> about the obligations to virtue, which suppose its excellence must be highly assistant to virtue, and consequently are of the greatest importance in moral philosophy; so, on the other hand, whatever pretences are made to supporting virtue by any philosophers who deny the dignity of virtue, they are but such adherents to it as some are said to have been to the doctrines of Jesus Christ, who followed him for the sake of the loaves with which he fed them. I use this similitude, because if there be a real difference between esteem, love and friendship, for the sake of one’s amiable temper, and great and good qualities, and that hypocritical pretended affection which only eyes some selfish advantage, there must likewise be a real difference between the inward esteem and love of virtue for its own intrinsic beauty, and meer outward conformity to its rules for the sake of some conveniencies and advantages, without any inward liking to it.a If there be any real difference in the one case there must be a real one in the other. He alone can be said to do a virtuous action, who does it with delight and complacency in it as such; otherwise one who inwardly hates the person he caresses and flatters in order to get his confidence, and then betray him, is his real friend till the moment he hurts him, notwithstanding his dissimulation and evil intention; and he who abstains from robbing for fear of the gallows is as honest as he who would rather suffer the cruelest torments than commit the least injury to any one in thought, word or deed.

But all that hath been said, (from which it clearly follows, that the laws of our nature with regard to virtue, and private and public good are so fitly<174> chosen) will be yet clearer when we consider our constitution or frame with regard to society. Mean time we may conclude with my Lord Shaftsbury. “Thus the wisdom of what rules, and is first and chief in nature, has made it to be according to the private interest and good of every one, to work towards the general good; which if a creature ceases to promote, he is actually so far wanting to himself, and ceases to promote his own happiness and wellfare. He is, on this account, directly his own enemy: nor can he otherwise be good or useful to himself, than as he continues good to society, and to that whole of which he is himself a part. So that virtue, which of all excellencies and virtues is the chief and most amiable; that which is the prop and ornament of human affairs; which upholds communities, maintains union, friendship and correspondence amongst men; that by which countries as well as private families flourish and are happy; and for want of which every thing comely, conspicuous, great and worthy, must perish and go to ruin; that single quality, thus beneficial to all society, and to mankind in general, is found equally a happiness and good to each creature in particular; and is, that by which alone man can be happy, and without which he must be miserable.”65

CHAPTER VI

Another class of laws. Those relative to society and the dependence of human happiness and perfection on social union and rightly united force.Let us consider another law of our nature. “The law of society. In consequence of which all men are not only led to society by several strong affections and dispositions; but man is so framed for society, that private and public happiness and perfection exceedingly depend upon our uniting together in a proper manner, or under proper<175> laws, and a right form of government, for promoting our common happiness, dignity and perfection.”

We are led to society by an appetite after it, which cannot be satisfied without company, fellowship, and social communication: nay, so social is our make, that neither the pleasures of the body, nor those of the mind, separated from society or public affection, can afford us any lasting enjoyment.A general view of our social make or form.

• Remember, man, “The universal cause
• Acts not by partial, but by gen’ral laws.”
• And makes what happiness we justly call
• Subsist, not in the good of one, but all.
• There’s not a blessing individuals find,
• But some way leans and hearkens to the kind.
• No bandit fierce, no tyrant mad with pride,
• No cavern’d hermit, rest self-satisfy’d;
• Who most to shun or hate mankind pretend,
• Seek an admirer, or would fix a friend:
• Abstract what others feel, what others think,
• All pleasures sicken, and all glories sink;
• Each has his share, and who would more obtain
• Shall find, the pleasure pays not half the pain.

• Essay on man, Epist. 4.66

We have all the affections which are necessary to the maintenance of society, and to receiving happiness by social correspondence and participation: an inclination to propagate our kind; natural affection to our offspring and to our parents; disposition to friendship; tenderness to the sex; regard to reputation, or desire of fame and esteem; gratitude, sympathy and compassion; delight in the happiness of others, in that particularly which is of our own giving or procuring to them; satisfaction in whatever presents us with the agreeable idea of the power, improvement and perfection belonging to our nature. All these affections and dispositions are deeply emplanted<176> in us, as we may be as sure, or rather surer by experience, than we can be of any properties belonging to external objects of sense. And suitably to these affections and dispositions, men have different turns, capacities, genius’s and abilities, insomuch that they are as distinguishable from one another by their different moral features, as by their outward airs, shapes and complexions; and as are dependent upon one another as they can be conceived to be, in order to render society at the same time necessary and yet agreeable or the object of voluntary choice. For if we were not united together at once by such affections, and by such reciprocal wants as necessarily result from diversity of interests, abilities and tempers; society would only be merely necessary or merely agreeable; but being so tied and connected together as we are, society is neither solely necessary, nor is it merely matter of choice; but it is equally requisite and satisfactory.

It is needless to dwell long upon proving, that we are formed and made for society, and dependent one upon another: our very manner of coming into the world, and education to the state of manhood, the source of many endearing relations, and agreeable affections and offices sufficiently prove it. And what can be more obvious, than that no considerable improvements can be made in the arts and sciences, or in true grandeur and elegance, without social union and rational virtuous confederacy? In order, however to give a just view of the extent and usefulness of this law, and of the phenomena belonging to it, I shall offer the few following observations.a <177>

Man is in as proper a sense made for society as any machine for its end.I. We cannot more certainly pronounce, that a watch or any other machine is formed for a certain end from the consideration of the parts of which it is formed; than we may conclude from all the parts of our constitution, and their mutual references to one another, that we are formed for society and for social happiness; and if it be fit, wise and good that it should be so, then must our constitution as such, be wise and good.

Hardly will any one call into doubt, the fitness, the wisdom and goodness of our being designed and made for society, of our being made one kind, and our having as such a common stock, a common end, a common happiness. One of the greatest objections brought against our frame and constitution is, that society is not natural but adventitious, the meer consequence of direful necessity; men being naturally to one another wolves; that is, not as wolves to wolves for there a kind of union and society takes place, but as wolves to sheep, and devourers and destroyers. Men, say they, are made for rapine and plunder; to fight for victory, and to subdue and enslave each as many of his fellow-creatures as he can by force or stratagem. In one word, men, according to this scheme, are made to be a prey one to another: The only natural principle or instinct those philosophers acknowledge in our nature is, the lust of power and dominion, and an insatiable desire of tyranizing: And were this a true account of our nature, and of the state for which our author has intended us by our make, a state of perpetual war;67 then indeed it would be impossible to conceive a good opinion of his disposition towards<178> his creatures.The fundamental error of Hobbs consists in his considering the desire of power which is natural to man as his only natural passion or instinct. But so far is this from being a true description of human nature, that nothing is more repugnant to feeling and experience.aCicero, indeed, and all the best ancient philosophers, have taken notice of a very laudable greatness in the human mind, which makes its capacity for great virtues and noble efforts, in consequence of its natural desire of principatus, as Cicero calls it: that is, of power and rule or independence. But this disposition or instinct is not the only one in our frame; it is ballanced by several others which serve each in its turn as a counterpoise to it. All these natural dispositions or instincts are enumerated and explained by Cicero, in the first Book of his Offices at the beginning, as the foundation of all the virtues which constitute human dignity,Our natural desire of power as it is conjoined in our frame with other equally natural desires is a most noble and useful instinct. perfection and happiness, as we have already had occasion to shew: viz. the desire of knowledge, the desire and love of society, and a moral sense, or a sense of beauty and deformity in affections and characters, analogous, as he observes, to our sense of beauty and proportion in corporeal forms. Now our desire of power and rule, as it is united with these other dispositions, is so far from being a hurtful principle in our nature, that it is of admirable use. It serves to push us on to improve all our powers and faculties; it impels us to exert ourselves with all our might to attain to the highest perfection in knowledge, and in every ability we are capable<179> of.Greatness of mind or love of power, how useful in our frame. It serves to excite us to take a very high aim; to despise mean and low objects, and to delight in whatever presents us with a very high idea of our own capacity, force and perfection. Without such a principle, man would indeed be a low, a timid, unaspiring creature, incapable of fortitude and magnanimity: incapable of ruling his sensitive appetites; incapable of great attempts, and of despising dangers for the sake of virtue. But then, on the other hand, were not this loftiness of mind, this desire of power and rule checked by the love of society, by generous public affections, and by a sense of beauty in good affections and actions, it would indeed make every man naturally a tyrant; and produce all the horrible evils, which Hobbs says, must be the product of men’s natural disposition, till they resolve to live quietly, and make a voluntary league for the sake of safety and peace.68 It is impossible to have a just idea of any whole by considering any part of it singly or abstractedly from all the other parts. But if we consider our disposition to seek after power, as it is joined in our frame with the other equally natural and strong dispositions in our nature which have been mentioned, we shall be led immediately to Cicero’s conclusion, That by these dispositions, as they are united together in our constitution, we are made to acquire prudence, to exercise benevolence, and to study order and beauty in our moral behaviour, and for fortitude and magnanimity. This natural greatness of mind, considered with regard to our equally natural appetite after knowledge, conduces to prompt us to seek after large and comprehensive views of nature; knowledge of the most enlarging, ennobling and exalting kind; such knowledge as will be most conducive to increase our power and dominion: It makes us delight in contemplating great objects; objects which wonderfully fill and delate the mind; objects which prove its force and put its grasp to the trial: hence the origine of the sublime in sentiments,<180> in discourse, and in actions, and of all the pleasure it gives, as Longinus has observed.69 This natural greatness considered with respect to our love of society, serves to save it from degenerating into too tame and simple submissiveness for the sake of ease and quiet to every proud usurper of dominion: and it excites us to aim at power in order to do good, in order to spread happiness round us with a liberal hand. Our natural greatness of mind or desire of Power is indeed the source of ambition: but of what ambition is it naturally the source; as it is conjoined in our mind with benevolence but generous affection? Thus it tends to excite the great and God-like ambition of being able to do glorious and meritorious services to our fellow-creatures: it excites us to seek after inward liberty and independency. To no other ambition does it, or can it excite us as it is directed by the love of society, and the benevolent principle with which it is united in our frame, that it might co-operate with it. For it is that different springs or movements may work jointly that they are placed together in any piece of mechanism: and it must be so likewise in moral constitutions. Finally, this natural desire of power and rule, or independency, when it is considered together with the love of order, and regularity in affections, conduct and society, prompts us to pursue regularity and good order in all our behaviour, and to subdue all the passions which tend to introduce irregularity and disorder into our own breasts, inconsistency and irregularity into our own outward actions, and proportionable disorder and irregularity into society. All these instincts or dispositions therefore as they are contrived by nature to ballance one another, and to co-operate in our minds, make a very beautiful constitution, or a constitution adapted to very noble ends and purposes. If any of them be too strong or vehement, then is the ballance disturbed, and so far is our frame disordered: but that any one of them which is most indulged<181> should become stronger than the rest which are less so, is the effect of an excellent general law with regard to temper and habitude of mind already explained. It is just so in natural compositions or machines, in which some particular spring may acquire too much force in proportion to the rest, and the end of the whole, by various causes: and as it is in mechanism, so is it in moral nature. When all the springs and wheels are sound and right, and in a just ballance, then and then only all will go right. The happiness as well as the proper business of man as a rational agent, consists in exerting himself to understand his frame; and understanding it, to give due attention and diligence to keep all his moral springs and movements in their due and proportioned strength, as benevolence and his love of beauty and order direct, and as self-love itself requires for interest’s sake: virtue and happiness being the same, as has been proved.

All our affections, not only the public ones, but even the private, respect society, and are formed with a view to it.Our affections, no doubt, one and all of them are often matter of uneasiness to ourselves, and sometimes occasion misery to others; it must be so when any one is indulged and nourished into a degree of strength above its proper tone; but the question is, which of them we could have wanted without greater loss and suffering in the whole. They are by nature ballanced one against another, as the antagonist muscles of the body, either of which separately would have occasioned distortion and irregular motion, yet jointly they form a machine most accurately subservient to the necessities, conveniencies, and happiness of the whole system.a We have already observed whence the ultimate necessity arises of adding certain uneasy sensations to all our desires, from which they have the name of passions.a And we have a power of<182> reason and reflexion by which we may discern what course of acting will naturally tend to procure us the most valuable sort of gratifications of all our desires, and prevent all intolerable or unnecessary pains, or provide some support under them. Nay we have wisdom sufficient to form right ideas of general laws and constitutions, so as to preserve large societies in peace and prosperity, and promote a general good amidst all the private interests. Now as to take away our passions and affections would be to deprive us of all the springs and motives, all the principles necessary to action, and to leave nothing to our reason to govern and guide; so, on the other hand, to rob us of our reason, would be to deprive us of a guiding principle, and to reduce us to the lowest condition of animals impelled and driven by instinct and appetites, without any foresight, without capacity of chusing, and consequently without all capacity of virtue or merit. As well therefore may one deny that we are made for walking erect, and not to grovel on the ground, as that we are made for society; since all our powers and affections are contrived for the good of our kind. Even those of the private sort are plainly so; for do they not then only work towards private good when they preserve that due proportion which the common good of mankind requires? and becoming too strong or too weak with regard to the general good of our kind, do they not likewise become disproportioned with regard to the private system and its well being? This is plain from the very principle of self-preservation, or the love of life, that becomes unable to answer its end in the private system, producing inability to save ones self when it is too strong; and when it is too weak, is the occasion of equal mischief to ourselves and others. For as the timorous and fearful cannot help themselves and others, so the rash and adventurous do not bring more hurt upon others<183> than upon themselves. Thus therefore the private affections are equally well adjusted to private and publick good. But if they should be said to belong merely to the selfish system, and to have no farther respect in their contrivance and tendency, there are however many other affections in our nature, which do not immediately pursue merely private good, but which in many cases lead us directly beyond ourselves, violently interesting us in the concerns and for the affairs of others in their adversity as well as prosperity, and conducing to make us regardless of ourselves, or at least to make us prefer the interest of our fellow creatures to our own private ease. What else are our compassion and friendly sense of sorrow, but the alarms and impulses of kind nature, watchfula for the whole, to engage us in the interest of others, and to prompt us to fly to the relief of a suffering brother? What are the στοργη; i.e. natural affection to offspring, sympathy, friendship, the love of ones country; or, in one word, all our social feelings, which make up,b or lay the foundation for so much of our happiness, but so many necessary ties by which we are linked together and make one system? By these each private agent, is originally and independently of his own choice, made subservient to the good of the whole. And in consequence of this mechanism of our nature, he who voluntarily continues in that rational union, cultivates it, and delights in employing his powers and talents for the general good of his kind, makes himself happy; and he who does not continue this natural union freely, but voluntarily endeavours<184> to break it and disunite himself from mankind, renders himself wretched; and yet he cannot totally burst the bonds of nature. His moral and public sense, his desire of honour and esteem, and the very necessities of his nature will continue to make him dependent on his kind, and oblige him to serve it whether he inclines to it or not.

Society or variety of social happiness requires variety of talents and characters.II. But let it be observed in the second place, That men could not be made fit for society, or for the social happiness which arises from partnership, from communication and participation, and the reciprocal interchange of friendly offices, without being so constituted that they should mutually stand in need of each other; and hence it follows that in order to society, not only diversity, but inequality of talents, mental as well as bodily, is absolutely necessary;a for otherwise there would be no dependence, and consequently no place for social affections to exert themselves, or for the mutual contribution toward public good, which is involved in the very idea of society and community. Now this diversity and inequality which partnership,<185> communication, and social intercourse require, is in our case in a great measure (as has been observed)a the necessary result of our being related to a sensible world; or of that mutual union between our minds and bodies which is requisite to our having the pleasures of every kind we are susceptible of in that way, which have been enumerated.The exigencies of our animal life require diversity. So strict and closs is the concatenation of things with regard to our make, that whatever is found to be fit or necessary in one respect, is so in all regards and views. The bodies by which we have a communication with a sensible world, and are capable of enjoying it, must be supported, nourished, and defended by methods which require diversity and inequality of powers; diversity and inequality of situations; superiorities and inferiorities arising from several varieties and differences. Minds united with bodies must be affected with the laws of matter and motion; and their different manners of being affected with these laws must be uniform and fixed, so that like effects may always<186> proceed from like causes and connexions. But all these dependencies on matter are the foundations of social exercises, and necessary to the pleasures and advantages of united social life. So complete then is the whole building, if I may so speak, that if any one part is altered, the whole can no longer stand or subsist, but must fall to the ground.Moral happiness requires the same diversity. What is necessary or fit for our progress in knowledge, and to our enjoyment of a sensible world, is likewise requisite to our moral perfection and to social happiness; and reciprocally whatever is necessary to the latter is necessary to the former; for social happiness must in the nature of things be a happiness of participation and communication; it must be a happiness that is reflected, as it were, from one creature to another, and that admits of various changes and modifications. Now different textures of bodies are not more necessary to the various reflexions, refractions, and transmissions of light, which constitute all the visible beauty of the corporeal world, than different structures and modifications of human minds are to the various reflexions and refractions, so to speak, of social happiness, which are requisite to the beauty and happiness of society.A variety of different tempers and characters is requisite to make various reflexions or modifications of social happiness. The only question with regard to the latter is, Whether they are not the properest to produce in the whole of things as equal a distribution of happiness, as those in the sensible world do of light and heat; that is, as equal a distribution as is consistent with the very nature of reflected happiness itself, and with the other useful laws relative to our frame? But hardly can we conceive better provision made for the equal distribution of reflected and participated happiness consistently with it as such, than by the strength which nature hath originally given to our generous affections and to our moral sense: that is, to our desire of spreading happiness, and to our delight in the contemplation of that beautiful order which the<187> regular exercise of benevolent affections naturally tends to produce.

By means of different moral qualities, tempers, and situations, the same kind of happiness has no less various effects than light by its various reflexions and transmissions in the sensible world. Happiness is thus modified or changed into various appearances and effects no less useful as well as beautiful than the variety of colours which make the harmony of the visible world. But by means of a moral sense and of a social disposition, mankind are as firmly tied together as they can be consistently with the power of regulating themselves, or with the dependence of their temper upon their own care to form it, or upon habits of their own contracting.All social virtues suppose mutual dependencies and wants, for they may all be reduced to these two, giving and receiving. There can be no society, no mutual dependence, without supposing mutual wants; for all social exercises may be reduced to giving and receiving. But these two necessarily suppose differences among mankind, and insufficiencies in every one to be happy by himself. And in fact, such amidst great diversity is the equality of mankind, that none can ever be without wants which he himself is utterly incapable to supply, however extensive his power of giving may be. But what can be happier than deficiencies and wants, which are the foundation of so many and so great goods; of social union, of love and friendship, of generosity and kindness, gratitude and reliance, and sympathy? If these are removed, what remains in human life worth enjoying? Even the gratifications of sense, as has been observed, dwindle into nothing; as is plain from considering one, which will readily be acknowledged to be none of the least; where the spes mutui credulaanimi70 is felt to be the principal ingredient.

• Order is heav’n’s first law; and this confest,
• Some are, and must be, greater than the rest,<188>
• More rich, more wise: but who infers from hence
• That such are happier, shocks all common sense.
• Heav’n to mankind impartial we confess
• If all are equal in their happiness:
• But mutual wants this happiness increase,
• All nature’s diff’rence keeps all nature’s peace.
• Condition, circumstance is not the thing:
• Bliss is the same, in subject or in king,
• In who obtain defence, or who defend;
• In him who is, or him who finds, a friend.

• Essay on man, Epist. 4.71

And again,

• Heav’n, forming each on other to depend,
• A master, or a servant, or a friend,
• Bids each on other for assistance call,
• ’Till one man’s weakness grows the strength of all.
• Wants, frailties, passions, closer still allye
• The common int’rest, or endear the tye:
• To these we owe true friendship, love sincere,
• Each home-felt joy that life inherits here.

• Essay on man, Epist. 2.72

Natural diversities make different materials for a variety of good by our own improvement, or of our own acquisition.If we take an impartial view of mankind, we shall find, that with all the inequalities which social happiness or intercourse of good and kindly offices require, there is however such an equality, that every man does in reality bring into the common stock, together with his share of the natural affections common to all men, a certain peculium, something proper to himself, which is of great use or rather necessity to the common welfare of the kind: and that can be nothing else but some particular ability, or some peculiar modification of the natural and common affections. This will plainly appear if we distinguish well between what is natural and what is acquired; and remember that, as nothing could be acquired were there nothing natural,<189> since art or exercise can only diversify what was originally of nature’s growth or implantation, and that according to settled methods and connexions fixed by nature for making acquisitions of any kind by exercise and art possible; so were nothing left to art and exercise, nothing would of course be left to ourselves to do; we could make no acquisitions at all. There are indeed acquired dispositions which are very prejudicial to society; but these are affections in themselves exceeding useful, perverted by wrong associations of ideas and bad habits: and what diversity is there among mankind with respect to ability, genius and temper, that there is ground to think natural, which is not necessary to the various employments and pursuits without which there cannot be merit of different kinds, nor a sufficient variety of happiness and perfection in human life? What natural talent or turn of mind is not a good foundation to work upon, or may not be improved to the great advantage of society? Let us but think what an insipid state ours would be, were there not that diversity of turns and casts of mind, so to speak, among mankind which now obtains; or if all men had the same qualities precisely in the same degree; and there were no differences among them at all? Variety is as necessary to general beauty, perfection and good, as uniformity: it is uniformity amidst variety, which produces beauty and good in the sensible world. And it is uniformity amidst variety amongst mankind, which alone could render them capable of similar beauty and good in the moral way; or make them a system of beings in which variety of beauty and good of the moral sort could have place, equal or analogous to that variety of beauty and good, which constitutes the riches and greatness, the magnificence and fulness of the corporeal world. In fine, ’tis as impossible that there can be society amongst mankind without great diversity of powers, abilities,<190> and dispositions, as it is that there can be a whole without parts, of various natures adjusted to one another by their differences, and so making a whole.

Benevolence or social affection naturally works in these proper proportions which the general good of society requires.III. Let it be remarked, in the third place, with regard to our natural qualifications for society and social happiness; that the social or uniting principle in us is fitted by nature to operate in those proportions, which are most conducive to the common good of our kind. I cannot better explain this than by comparing the uniting, benevolent principle in our nature to attraction in the material system. It is indeed moral or social attraction,a and operates like the other proportionally, as best suits to the upholding of the whole fabric in perfect order: it is strongest and most sensible when close cohesion is absolutely necessary, as betwixt parents and offspring: and it diminishes in proportion as we are removed from one another.It operates like attraction in the material world. Yet so are we framed, that with regard to our whole kind, when that idea is reflected upon or presented tous, it is experienced to be exceedingly warm and strong. We all feel that the general good cannot be considered without such due affection towards it, that there is a disposition and tendency in our breasts to submit all particular connexions and attachments to it, with a strong conviction of the fitness of such submission. Man must first be able to conceive a large whole, and to consider mankind as one family, before he can feel affection to his kind as such: but as one can hardly think at all without being led to perceive the common relation of men to one another as one kind; so every one soon attains to this idea, or rather it obtrudes itself upon all men whether they will or not; and the idea of one’s own child does not more necessarily excite natural<191> affection, than the notion of one kind begets strong public affection toward it as such. Hence it is that no person capable of reflexion is not touched with the distress of a man as man, without any other attachment; and does not, on the other hand, rejoice and perceive pleasure, even at the recital of happiness enjoyed in any part of the world, or at any period of time, however remote from all his private interests. Now this is the cement or attraction towards a common center, which together with the particular attractions between persons nearly joined and related, or particularly adapted and suited one to another, holds the whole system of mankind together, or by which it coheres. This is indeed the natural progress of the human mind.

• God loves from whole to parts: but human soul
• Must rise from individual to the whole.
• Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake,
• As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake,
• The centre mov’d, a circle strait succeeds,
• Another still, and still another spreads,
• Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace,
• His country next, and next all human race;
• Wide, and more wide, th’o’erflowings of the mind
• Take ev’ry creature in, of ev’ry kind;
• Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest,
• And Heav’n beholds its image in his breast.

• Essay on man, Epist. 4.73

The notion of a public good is no sooner formed than due affection arises towards it.The notion of a public good, or of the universal happiness of our kind, is a complicated idea, which is not immediately apprehended so soon as one sees or feels, but requires some reflexion and a progress of the mind to form it; whereas particular generous affections are immediately excited by their proper objects, some of which are ever assailing the mind; (as in the case of natural affection, properly so called, sympathy with the distressed,<192> and complacency with the happiness of others, naturally dear and near to us.) And our mind is so fitted by nature to form that notion that we cannot avoid forming it. But nature has fitted the mind to form the idea of our kind, and of its general good; for every particular exercise of the mind in the benevolent social way, naturally tends to beget and establish such a prevalency of good humour, tenderness, and benevolence in the general temperature of the mind; as when it is formed, must naturally dispose it to seek for exercise and entertainment to itself in the most enlarged way; and thus the inclination to extend benevolence growing with every particular exertion of it, the idea of good to be pursued, will naturally expand itself, till it not merely comprehends our own kind, but takes in and embraces all beings in general, or the whole system of nature. As the excitement of every particular object naturally supposes its object present to the mind, either really or in fancy; so the notion of public good must precede the desire and pursuit of it; but in proportion as the temper is sweetned by particular exercises of generous affection, the mind will enlarge and open itself to make more room for benevolence to exert all its benignity; and so a more comprehensive object will naturally be imagined. And when the idea of public good is but once so far extended as to take in our own species as one kind, it naturally, and as it were necessarily inflames the breast with affection, large, extensive and overflowing, in proportion to the greatness and comprehensiveness of the idea which bestirs it.

But benevolence, like other affections, is liable to changes, and may be diminished or strengthened.This will be strongly felt, if one who hath experienced any of the particular and more limited outgoings of the mind in natural affection, compassion, or friendship, will but ask his own heart.—And if this be duty, what then does my country require at my hands?—Hath the public no claim upon me?—For if he but understands these questions, and can put them to himself; nature will quickly give the<193> answer by a sudden overflowing of the warmest affection towards the public,a to which he will feel every other passion submitting itself, as conscious of its fit subordinacy or inferiority to it.

Let it however be remarked, that the analogy between moral and natural gravitation must fail in this respect, that whereas the latter is only a mechanical principle which we cannot change; the former is a moral principle, and therefore subject to diversities superinduceable by ourselves, in consequence particularly of the law of habits and associations of ideas already mentioned; insomuch that benevolence may be exceedingly weakened and diminished, thro’ the prevalence of other passions. If therefore in some constitutions benevolence is very weak, and self-love is almost the only prevailing principle, let it be called to mind that in other constitutions self-love is really too weak, and some generous affection is too strong. From hence it follows, that as in the latter case it would be absurd to argue from some few instances, that the principle of self-love had originally no place in our frame; so, by parity of reason, it would be equally absurd to infer from a few particular instances, where self-love is too strong, and benevolence almost quite extinct, that originally there was no social principle in our nature. Such changes are all accountable whether on the one side or on the other, and in general with regard to all passions, in the same way; that is, from different associations of ideas, and different contracted habits. The only inference, experience leads to with regard to them is, “That passions are overpowered by passions; and that passions grow more powerful in proportion as they are indulged; or<194> as circumstances have conduced to excite and employ them; since by repeated acts all passions are proportionably wrought into temper.”It is difficult to determine the original forces of any affections in our hearts. It may indeed be difficult, perhaps impossible, to determine the original forces of benevolent passions in any particular constitution antecedent to all particular exitements and exercises; since from the beginning objects which naturally excite and employ them are continually affecting us, and calling them forth into exercises or acts: but then it is no less so for the same reason to determine precisely the forces of the private or selfish affections. We see variety in both cases, and we know how this variety must arise from circumstances of exercise and action in either case.But it cannot be asserted that there is nothing social in our nature, without denying the most evident truths or facts. But he who denies any social tendency in our nature to our kind, or the original implantation in us of any principles besides the meer selfish affections, and ascribes all that is social or kindly in us to education, custom and superinduced habits, is obliged to give an account of moral phenomena, which are absolutely in explicable upon that supposition; since we may appeal even to the most selfish person, to him who has studied and laboured the most to make himself such, and to extinguish all regards to others, whether he has been able to succeed: whether he can attain to his ends, so as never to feel any stirrings within him of social and public affections; and whether he can ever seriously and deliberately, in conversation with his own heart, approve to himself such an aim. If benevolence is superinduced, and not originally from nature, whence comes it universally that this customary and superinduced nature, is stronger than original nature itself; insomuch that, far from being capable of being totally destroyed, it is ever thwarting the selfish passions, and creating discontent and remorse in a narrow, sordid breast. This truly cannot otherwise be explained, (unless it is affirmed that habits may be contracted by repeated acts,<195> without any design or appointment of the Author of nature that it should be so) but by saying, that though nature has not planted in us originally any social propensions, yet the circumstances of human life are so ordered by the Author of it, that these propensions must necessarily arise in every mind to such a degree of strength, that nothing shall be able afterwards to eradicate them; nay, so much as to hinder them from exciting bitter dissatisfaction with ones self in the selfish mind whether he will or will not; or at least, from creating horrible disturbance and remorse within such breasts, as often as they sincerely ask themselves, whether the selfish conduct be right or wrong, approveable or disapproveable. If he says, the part that man ought or ought not to act, right and wrong, fit and unfit, are cheats, or meer words without any meaning, he is not one bit nearer to the solution required of him for the phenomena now under consideration. Because the question still returns, why are human affairs so ordered; if these words express no moral immutable differences of affections and actions, and correspondent obligations, that yet universally every thinking man, as often as he thinks, must approve or disapprove, according to that deceit or false imagination, and cannot possibly approvea or<196> disapprove according to any other rule, however he may act? For this is as certain as attraction, elasticity, or any other quality of bodies perceived by our senses, that no person ever can, at any time of life, reflect upon his actions, and approve of falsehood, dissimulation and dishonesty, not to say barbarity and cruelty: or not approve truth, veracity, candour, gratitude and benevolence, and public spirit.

How the mind is differently affected by any ideas or objects, is matter of experience, and therefore the fact rests upon the same indubitable evidence which ascertains other facts, that is, experience. But in accounting for this fact, it is necessary to resolve it ultimately into our being originally so framed as to be so affected; in which case, the original sociality of our nature is acknowledged; or it must be resolved into a secondary intention of nature, to bring about our being so affected by moral objects, which, so far as it has any meaning at all, must be, to all intents and purposes, the same with a primary and original intention or appointment of nature. There is no middle hypothesis between these two, to explain the matter by. And to say that this, or any influence of objects upon the mind, may be totally the effect of education, custom, exercise, or art, or any cause whatsoever, without any intention or appointment of nature that it should be so, must terminate ultimately in saying, that effects may be produced without causes, or without any appointed manner of their being produced. Now how absurd would it appear to every one, if a person should say, that an artist may work matter into any intended form, any how, at random, without any means, or by whatsoever means he pleases; or that he could do it, though there were no certain knowable way of doing it. This would unanimously be owned to shock all common sense: and yet it is the very same thing that must<197> be said by those who ascribe all that is social in our nature to art, custom, and superadded habit, without nature’s having at least appointed the way in which art, custom, and superadded habit may produce such an effect.The absurdity of supposing social or any affection to be produced by art. For were there not originally in us certain qualities for art and exercise to operate upon, according to certain fixed methods of nature’s institution, there would be no materials for art to work upon; nor no means of operating by any moral art or exercise. In moral nature, as well as in the material world, no quality can be superinduced which is entirely the product of art. All arts of the one kind, as well as of the other, are but certain methods of bringing forth into action qualities naturally belonging to subjects, according to the means appointed by nature for bringing them forth into action, in this or the other degree or proportion, and with these or the other appearances. I shall conclude this head with an admirable description of nature, our social nature in particular, by the excellent moral poet so often quoted.

• GOD, in the nature of each being, founds
• Its proper bliss, and sets its proper bounds:
• But as he fram’d a whole, the whole to bless
• On mutual wants built mutual happiness:
• So from the first eternal order ran,
• And creature link’d to creature, man to man.
• Whate’er of life all-quick’ning aether keeps,
• Or breathes thro’ air, or shoots beneath the deeps,
• Or pours profuse on earth; one nature feeds
• The vital flame, and swells the genial seeds.
• Not man alone, but all that roam the wood,
• Or wing the sky, or roll along the flood,
• Each loves itself, but not itself alone,
• Each sex desires alike, till two are one:
• Nor ends the pleasure with the fierce embrace;
• They love themselves, a third time, in their race.<198>
• Thus beast and bird their common charge attend,
• The mothers nurse it, and the sires defend;
• The young dismiss’d to wander earth or air,
• There stops the instinct, and there ends the care,
• The link dissolves, each seeks a fresh embrace,
• Another love succeeds, another race.
• A longer care man’s helpless kind demands;
• That longer care contracts more lasting bands:
• Reflection, reason, still the ties improve,
• At once extend the int’rest, and the love:
• With choice we fix, with simpathy we burn,
• Each virtue in each passion takes its turn;
• And still new needs, new helps, new habits rise,
• That graft benevolence on charities.
• Still as one brood, and as another rose,
• These nat’ral love maintain’d, habitual those;
• The last scarce ripen’d into perfect man,
• Saw helpless him from whom their life began:
• Mem’ry and forecast, just returns engage,
• That pointed back to youth, this on to age:
• While pleasure, gratitude, and hope combin’d
• Still spread the int’rest, and preserv’d the kind.

• Essay on man, Epist. 3.74

The necessary dependence of social happiness and perfection on right social union.IV. I shall now take notice of something that is yet more particularly the result of our social make, or of our being formed to promote common happiness by joint endeavours. And it is, that in consequence of such an end, and of the make proper to that end, the perfection and happiness of human society must depend on the aptitude of the union into which it is formed, that is, upon its fitness and propriety to promote that end. If happiness must be promoted by joint endeavours, or united application, as social happiness must be according to the very definition of it, then is uniting necessary to it: but joining or uniting in one method, or according to one form, cannot be so proper to promote the end of union, which is public<199> happiness, as joining or uniting in another form. Need I stay to prove what is as evident, as that there may be a better and a worse mechanism for the end of a watch? Yet if this be true, it evidently follows, that the greatest common happiness and perfection of society cannot be effected, but in proportion to the fitness of the form in which society is constituted, to procure that end. Accordingly, the most remarkable differences among societies are such as result from their political forms, or from the natural tendency of their laws, government, and civil policies. There are, indeed, other differences, as with regard to climate, soil, and other such things depending on physical causes. But are not the chief differences confessed to be such as result from civil constitutions, or the various forms of government? If, for example, the flourishing of all the ingenious arts, of philosophy in all its branches, of poetry, statuary, painting, sculpture, architecture, &c. constitute a very considerable part of the happiness and grandeur of society, as being the properest methods for employing men’s noblest faculties, and all the wealth that may be purchased by commerce: If it be true, that it is the polite arts which give taste and lustre to human life, or add elegance and a due polish to it; that they are the grandeur and grace,aand comely pride of mankind, without which wealth rots a nusance: if this be true, it is at the same time equally certain, that one form of government is fit for promoting these arts, and another is quite the reverse. “Hence it is that these arts have been delivered down to us in such perfection by free nations, who from the nature of their government, as from a proper soil, produced the generous plants; whilst the mightiest bodies and vastest empires, governed by force and despotic power, could, after ages of peace and leisure, produce no other than what was deformed and barbarous<200> of the kind.”75Some states are adjusted to one end, some to another. It was in consequence of this natural fitness or unfitness of certain moral means with respect to certain moral ends, that the laws of Lycurgus, according to the confession of Aristotle, Plato, and other wise and observing politicians, tended to make men ferocious, and to prevent their being civilized and polished by the humanizing arts: there was no provision made by that institution for their culture and advancement; but, on the contrary, all was calculated to exclude them; and therefore they could not possibly be engendered, far less could they come to perfection in such a state: whilst, on the other hand, at Athens they flourished, because every thing concurred to promote them. But it is not my business now to examine different forms of government. All that belongs to our present purpose is, to remark that men are capable of a very great degree of grandeur and happiness, as we feel by experience, in consequence of our own most happy constitution, and its aptitude to promote public spirit, virtue, and arts, beyond any other in the world: and that the perfection and happiness of mankind must depend upon the natural fitness of the form of government they live under, or of their civil and religious constitution, in order to produce that end, is as certain as that there are proper and improper means with relation to any end; or that no end can be accomplished, but by the means fit to attain it: an universal self-evident truth in moral as well as natural mechanism, or with respect to moral ends as well as natural ones.Every moral end, as well as every natural one, hath its natural and necessary means, by which alone it can be accomplished. In consequence of which it is that the science of politics consists in judging of the propriety and fitness, moral and political, of means to bring about and promote the sole end of government, the happiness of subjects. And hence it is accordingly that philosophers and politicians have been able, in many instances, to form such true judgments of the different forms of government, laws and policies, as<201> (like Polybius,a with regard to the Roman republic) to foretel the revolutions and changes of government which must happen, merely from the exact knowledge of the necessary effects of moral causes. Here, as well as in the natural world, effects may be with certainty inferred from their causes; for in both cases, from a certain concurrence of circumstances or causes, certain consequences necessarily result.Hence it is that politics is a science. To be satisfied of this, one needs only look into the political reasonings of any good writer on politics, Aristotle, Polybius, or our own Harrington. So that we may lay down all that is requisite for our purpose to make out as an indisputable truth. That such is the natural dependence of men upon each other, that they cannot attain to the perfection and happiness for which they are intended by nature, but by their uniting together, in order to promote it by their joint application: and that there are in the nature of things, improper and proper means of acting for obtaining that end. We are certainly intended by nature for whatever happiness and perfection we are qualified to pursue and attain to, whether singly or by united force. But all means and manners of uniting together, can no more be equally proper for attaining to an end in moral combinations of powers or qualities, than in natural<202> ones. And the wisdom and goodness of our Author clearly appears in making us social, and reciprocally dependent; in fitting us for attaining to a very great degree of happiness and perfection in that way; in prompting us by our natural benevolence, and other dispositions, to establish ourselves into the best form for that end; and in directing us to find it out by our moral sense.

Nature could not have dealt more kindly with us than it hath done, by making us social creatures, and by pointing and prompting us to right union by our natural disposition to society, and by our moral sense.This is all the provision nature could make for uniting us together in the properest form, consistently with making our chief interest dependent on ourselves, or happiness to be our own acquisition. And thus nature appears to be exceeding kind, especially when we call to mind, that though social happiness makes social dependence absolutely necessary; yet at the same time, the chief happiness of every private man, as far as it can be acquired singly, or independently of society rightly constituted and modelled, consists in the exercise of the same virtuous temper, which fits for and points to the proper manner of uniting, in order to promote general happiness or perfection; it being in every one’s power, considered as one individual, to regulate his affections according to the real nature of things or truth; from which government of opinions and affections no unhappiness results; but from it, on the contrary, do many goods naturally spring, in comparison of which, all other enjoyments are of very little consideration or importance, equally gross and unsatisfactory, as has been already observed.Conclusion. “Thus, then, it plainly appears that we are excellently formed for procuring to ourselves that true perfection and happiness, which must, in the nature of things, be the effect of right government, or well-constituted society.” Let us now consider, whether man, who is made for virtue and society, hath any further respect; or whether he is not likewise made for the pleasures of true religion and pure devotion.<203>

CHAPTER VII

Another class of laws.Man cannot open his eyes to consider the stupendous frame of nature, to contemplate his own make, or indeed any other object which strikes his sense or understanding, without apprehending or conceiving some mighty power that made, upholds and governs all.Those relative to religion. The idea of a creating and sustaining power or principle immediately presents itself to his mind.Man is made for religion as well as for virtue. He cannot escape forming it; so strongly does nature, every thing in nature, bespeak and proclaim it to him.a Hence that idea may be called innate; that is, an intelligible form or conception, which offers itself naturally to the mind as soon as it reflects; an idea the mind cannot avoid if it thinks, but that necessarily occurs to every one. That it is so is plain from universal experience; for no fact is more certain, than that no nation ever was so barbarous, but that it acknowledged a supreme, independent, creating power, the father of the world and of mankind.<204>

He can hardly avoid forming the idea of a supreme power, upon which he absolutely depends.We are necessarily led by the consideration of our own existence, which is felt to be derived and dependent, to perceive our dependence upon the Author of nature. And our moral sense, so soon as we think of a creating principle, naturally disposes us to ascribe the best disposition and temper to such a mind. So are we framed, that every effect leads us to apprehend a cause; and consequently, the existence of the world leads to apprehend an Author of it. And every thing great, regular or proportioned, excites admiration, either towards itself, if we imagine it animated; or, if not animated, towards some apprehended cause. No determination of our mind is more natural than this; no effect more universal: one has indeed better reason to deny the connexion between the sexes to be natural, than to deny a disposition in man to admire the Author of nature, which is a disposition to religion.a

And our moral sense naturally leads us to ascribe not only intelligence, but the love of order and benignity of temper, to the first or original mind.Our sense of natural and moral beauty necessarily leads us to enquire into and admire the order, beauty, grandeur, wise and good oeconomy of the world; and to apprehend that our disposition to understand and love order and goodness cannot but proceed from an Author whose mind is perfect order and goodness. And, indeed, it is as certain as that we have intelligent powers, and a moral sense implanted in us, that our Creator must have intelligence,<205> and benevolent, generous affections towards public good. For if the contrary is supposed, then are we more perfect than our maker; then have we in our nature a better, a more noble disposition than our Author, the contriver and creator of all our moral powers and dispositions, and of all the beauty, order, and good we see and admire. Nay, if the Author of nature has no perception of order, good and beauty, nor no disposition to approve it, then we have an excellent disposition in our frame of which he could not have any idea, and which is therefore blindly and undesignedly implanted in us. This reasoning is not above the reach of any one; it is what every person who thinks at all, is naturally led to by the turn and disposition of the human mind. For how can we avoid saying to ourselves, when we look upon the immense power, wisdom and goodness the creation manifests; when we look into our own minds, and consider our natural delight in analogy, harmonies, general laws, and the good that results from them; that whatever power or excellency, wisdom or order is derived, the Author from whom it comes, must posses such power, intelligence or virtue, in a degree far superior to all his creatures. He who gave us understanding, does he not understand? He who gave us reason, has he not supreme and perfect reason? He who gave us capacity of<206> perceiving order and delighting in it, does he not understand and love order? He who made us so that we must approve truth, veracity, benevolence, greatness of mind, and every virtue, and disapprove the contrary affections, does not he like those virtues, has he not a sense of their excellence? Does he not delight in them? Whence can he have copied the ideas of them but from his own mind? Had he not these excellencies originally in himself, whence could he have formed the notion of them; or whence could he have been moved and determined to give them to us, or to implant them in us? Could he form those, or any dispositions in our natures without having an idea of what he was doing? Or could he have been moved to plant such dispositions in us by a temper quite the reverse of what he was doing? By a temper quite the reverse of all excellency and goodness? We may therefore be no less sure, that our Creator has understanding, reason and benevolence, as well as creating power, in the most perfect, pure, unalloyed, unlimited degree, than we are sure that what we have is derived understanding, reason and benevolence.

Such reasonings are natural to the human mind.Now these reasonings are not only just, but they are natural to the mind: it as naturally tends to form them, as it tends to delight in any object which is adjusted to its frame, but is not an immediate object<207> of sense . And indeed all the opinions of philosophers about chance, mechanical blind operation of matter, or whatever other strange hypotheses, if they are not absurd, (as they plainly are) they are at least subtleties, which lie very remote from the human mind, and to which it can never yield. Religion is therefore as natural to the mind as a moral sense. But, like it, or being but a part of it, it must be improved by culture, by contemplation and exercise. Where there is a moral sense, reflexion must soon lead to apprehend an infinitely good mind, the cause of all things. And where there is a moral sense, an infinitely good mind cannot be apprehended, without the highest love and admiration, without supreme complacency and delight: but the idea must be improved to its perfection, like every other object of contemplation, by due consideration, by carefully examining it, lest any thing contrary to it should be associated and mixed with it on the one hand, or on the other, lest it should be too defective and inadequate, or too weak in its influence upon our minds.

Whence then imposition or false religion.If it is asked, how then it comes that such depraved notions of the Deity, so destructive of morality, and therefore so opposite to a moral sense, have always prevailed in the world? To this I answer, 1. That nothing is more plain from history, than that even<208> amidst the prevalence of superstition and idolatry; all the thinking part of mankind have ever had very just notions of the Deity and religion. What one of the personages in Cicero’s Dialogues about the gods says, was ever the opinion of all philosophers, a few only excepted, who studied and laboured hard to contrive some other uncommon system: Namely, That the doctrine of many gods, unless it be understood allegorically, is glaring nonsense. 2.It took its rise with tyranny, or was promoted by it. It seems plain from history, that superstition crept in gradually by means of various artifices; and not improbably, it took its chief rise from, or was principally promoted by tyranny, as it is said in the book of wisdom.76 It seems to be its cruel invention in order to enslave men more effectually, or to make them more easy dupes to its ambitious aims. It is an art invented or promoted by tyrants and their flattering accomplices who share the prey with them, to instil into the minds of those they would enthral and hold in compleat subjection to their lawless will, a notion of divine right communicated to them from above, to bear absolute sway on earth till they take their places among the gods destined for them. Hence the deification of tyrants and heroes in which idolatry at first consisted, and from whence it most probably took its origin.

• The workman from the work distinct was known,
• And simple reason never sought but one:<209>
• E’er wit oblique had broke that steady light,
• Man, like his Maker, saw, that all was right,
• To virtue in the paths of pleasure trod,
• And own’d a Father when he own’d a God.
• Love all the faith, and all th’ allegiance then;
• For nature knew no right divine in men,
• No ill could fear in God; and understood
• A sovereign being, but a sovereign good.
• True faith, true policy, united ran,
• That was but love of God, and this of man.
• Who first taught souls enslav’d, and realms undone,
• Th’enormous faith of many made for one?
• That proud exception to all nature’s laws,
• T’invert the world, and counterwork its cause?
• Force first made conquest, and that conquest, law;
• Till superstition taught the tyrant awe,
• Then shar’d the tyranny, then lent it aid,
• And gods of conqu’rors, slaves of subjects made:
• She, midst the lightning’s blaze and thunder’s sound,
• When rock’d the mountains, and when groan’d the ground,
• She taught the weak to bend, the proud to pray
• To pow’r unseen, and mightier far than they:
• She, from the rending earth, and bursting skies,
• Saw Gods descend, and Fiends infernal rise;
• Here fix’d the dreadful, there the blest abodes;
• Fear made her devils, and weak hope her gods:
• Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust,
• Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust,
• Such as the souls of cowards might conceive,
• And form’d like tyrants, tyrants would believe.<210>
• Zeal then, not charity, became the guide,
• And hell was built on spite, and heav’n on pride;
• Then sacred seem’d th’ aethereal vault no more;
• Altars grew marble then, and reek’d with gore:
• Then first the flamen tasted living food,
• Next his grim idol smear’d with human blood;
• With heav’n’s own thunders shook the world below,
• And play’d the God an engine on his foe.

• Essay on man, Epist. 3.77

But no argument can be brought from thence against a moral sense in our nature.Now, If it is asked how men, notwithstanding their moral sense, came to suffer themselves to be so grosly imposed upon to their disadvantage? May I not reply, 1. That such an imposition being not more repugnant to a moral sense and a benevolent principle, than it is to self-love, or a desire of private good and happiness; no argument can be brought from its taking place against a moral sense, that does not equally militate against the reality of self-love in our nature; the being and power of which principle was never on that or any other account called into doubt. 2. It appears from history, that such hath always been the care of providence to save, guard against, or deliver men from such pernicious errors, so contrary at once to private interest and to moral sense, as far as could be done consistently with making knowledge progressive and dependent on ourselves: That in all ages of the world, there have appeared true philosophers of generous public spirit, who taught true virtue and religion,<211> and boldly opposed corruption, superstition, and all enslaving doctrines about government; such were Pythagoras, Thales, Solon, Lycurgus, Socrates, Plato, Confucius, Zoroaster, and others: and such must Moses, the Jewish prophets, and Jesus Christ be allowed at least to have been. But leaving those with other objections to another place, I shall only add now, that to ask why nature has not prevented all error, all falshood, all imposition, all false opinions and prejudices, all credulity, all wrong associations of ideas and bad habits; is in reality to ask, why nature has not done more than can possibly be done for making us capable of attaining to true knowledge, just ideas and opinions, rational conclusions, improved powers and good habits. For it has been already proved, that we are furnished and qualified for the pursuit of and attainment to knowledge, and for arriving at moral perfection, with all the provision that these ends require in our situation: or with regard to such beings as mankind are and must be, to render the scale of life full and coherent.

Religious contemplation is a very pleasant exercise.I shall therefore proceed to observe on the head of religion, 1. That every exercise of contemplation, admiration, and love towards an all-perfect creator and governor of the world, is in its nature exceeding pleasant and delightful. All beauty is naturally agreeable to our mind, but chiefly moral beauty. And therefore the contemplation of an all-perfect mind, compleatly wise and good, as well as omnipotent and infinitely removed from all imperfection,<212> must greatly raise, transport and exhilerate the mind. This is the necessary consequence of a moral sense.

And highly improving to virtue.2. Such contemplation must be highly assisting to and improving of the virtuous temper. It must strengthen our love of virtue; and redouble our emulation to improve and excel in it. It is indeed nothing but the love of virtue in its highest degree. And how doubly satisfying must the conscience of sincere endeavours to advance in virtue be, when one reflects that it is the way, the only way to be like our Creator, and to recommend ourselves to his favour here or hereafter: That it is imitating him, and acting in concert with him.

But good affections may become too strong or vehement.3. But as every self-affection may be too strong as well as too weak, so may every generous affection be.

This is what Horace means when he says,

• Insani sapiens nomen ferat, aequus iniqui,
• Ultra quam satis est, virtutem si petat ipsam.78

The best affections may not only be too weak to gain their ends; but by misguidance, or too great indulgence, they may become too strong and vehement. The love of mankind may thus become romantic.Into what religious admiration is apt to degenerate. And, in like manner, religious contemplation and admiration, tho’, on the one hand, it may be too little exercised in order to our happiness,<213> and the improvement of our temper; yet, on the other hand, it may become too ardent; and thus it may degenerate into such excessive delight in raptorious contemplation, as may render averse to action, the great end of knowledge and of religion. And when one abandons the world to give himself up to religious contemplation, mankind being naturally made for social exercise and communication with one another in many acts of benevolence and friendship, the right ballance of the mind will be lost: action not being duly mixed with contemplation, the imagination will become visionary and romantic. And hence it is, that such persons are apt to imagine an extraordinary commerce and peculiar intimacy with the supreme Being; and to fancy all the thoughts or visions, which present themselves in consequence of their devotional contemplation and admiration, to be special dictates from heaven to their minds.If any other guide is set up in our mind superior to natural reason, and not to be tried by it, our whole frame is unhinged. It is true, good and just sentiments which are thus excited in the mind, as they are in that respect peculiarly the effects of religious acts, they may, in that sense, be said more especially to be from God; but they are not from him in any other way, than as they are the natural fruits of such contemplation and devotion according to the natural frame of our mind: and one cannot be too cautious in guarding against the perswasion of any special communication with the Deity, which pride is so apt, if it is once suffered to enter into the mind, or in the least indulged, to nourish to great extravagance; because in proportion as any other guide is set up in the mind besides reason and moral conscience, in proportion will those our natural guides be abandoned and forsaken by us in favour of that imagined superior one: and thus the<214> whole coherence of the human moral texture will be greatly endangered.

But perhaps there is not so much reason to caution against excesses, into which pious and devout affection may be misguided, as to recommend strongly the pleasure and profitableness to virtue, of devotion rightly governed.The genuine effects of true well moderated devotion, are submission to providence, and activity in doing good. And then certainly it is so when we take frequent pleasure in contemplating the divine perfections; and such contemplation produces, on the one hand, chearful submission to the divine pleasure with respect to all things independent of us, or absolutely external to us, and out of our power, from the perswasion that the divine providence does all for the best in the whole. And when, on the other hand, the contemplation and love of the Deity excite us to action, or to seek with delightful attention and care, opportunities of exerting our benevolence, and of doing all the good we can; from a perswasion that it is only active benevolence which can liken or approve us to that infinitely perfect Being, whose happiness consists in communicating his goodness as extensively as Omnipotence can.

Conclusion.Thus we see, we are made for religion as well as for virtue; and that indeed in our nature, religion and virtue are one and the same thing: it is the same natural disposition of the mind, employed contemplatively in admiring and loving supreme virtue; and actively in imitating that model; or in endeavouring to become more and more conformable to it. And as this is the idea which reason gives us of religion and virtue, so it is the idea christianity gives of it. The sum of religion and virtue according to that doctrine, is to love God, and to love our neighbour; and according to that doctrine these two good dispositions are inseparable: They must go together. He who thinketh he loveth God, and loveth not his neighbour, deceiveth himself, for God is love.79 <215>

CHAPTER VIII

A brief review of the human nature, and its powers and dispositions, and their laws.Having thus considered the chief laws and principles, powers and properties in the human nature relative to our bodily or moral frame, to our sensitive part or our connexion with a material world, relative to knowledge, to virtue, to interest, and to society: I think we may conclude, that human nature is well constituted, and makes an excellent species which well deserves its place in the rising scale of life and perfection: a species of being which shews an Author of perfect wisdom and goodness.

Now that all the principal phenomena relating to human nature and mankind, are accountable by reducing them to good principles from which they must result, will appear by casting our eye upon the following Table of effects, for these seem to be the principal phenomena belonging to us as men; and they are all reducible to the laws that have been already found either to be necessary, or fitly chosen and established.

Phenomena belonging to the general law of power.A table of the phenomena, good and bad belonging to human nature, or resulting from its contexture.

Goods.

Having a sphere of power and activity. Liberty and dominion; and so being capable of praise, virtue and good desert: Having great knowledge and proportioned power in consequence of culture or care to improve ourselves.

Evils.

Want of power through ignorance and neglect of culture, blindness, impotence, slavery, consciousness of acting ill; remorse, shame, a desart and uncultivated, or a corrupt and diseased mind.<216>

1.

To the laws of knowledge.

Goods.

Science, prudence, philosophy, arts, good sense, good taste, a refined imagination, an extensive understanding; knowledge of the beauty, order and wisdom of nature, and skill in imitating it by various arts.

Evils.

Ignorance, error, prejudices, narrow views, dull or slow imagination, corrupt fancy, false taste; caprice and fantastical pursuits.

2.

To the laws of the sensible world and our union with it.

Goods.

Sensitive pleasures of various sorts; contemplation of nature or natural knowledge, pleasures of imagination, social intercourse about moral ideas, sensitive appetites to be governed.

Evils.

Sensitive pains, subjection to the laws of matter and motion, false imaginations and pains arising from them. Unruly excessive sensual appetites and passions; uneasy sensations annexed to moral or intellectual desires, as well as to sensitive ones.

3.

To the laws of association of ideas and habits.

Goods.

Habitual knowledge, memory and acquaintance with nature, perfection in science, in arts, in every faculty, good taste, invention, advancement toward moral perfection, inward liberty, self-command, free agency.

Evils.

Wrong associations, fantastic imaginations, bad habits, unimproved faculties, inward slavery, indolence and impotence.

4.

To the laws of our moral sense, reason and moral conduct.

Goods.

Reason, a moral sense, beauty, harmony, and consistency of manners, conscious virtue, or a sense of merit, greatness of mind, fortitude, magnanimity.

Evils.

Depraved taste, remorse and self-condemnation, irregular self-tormenting, self-disapproving affections, lowness of mind, pusillanimity.<217>

5.

To the laws of interest and happiness, or of private and public good.

Goods.

Generous affections, well governed private affections, social ones, their pleasant effects and happy con sequences, the pursuit of private and public good, or virtue and interest the same.

Evils.

Ungenerous, unsocial selfish affections, disorderly desires, and their un-happy effects and influences; private and public ill, or vice and misery the same.

6.

To the laws of society, our social make and our mutual dependence.

Goods.

Social union, mutual dependencies, derived happiness by communication and participation; confederacy to promote virtue, and the true elegance, grandeur and happiness of society.

Evils.

Disunion, tumult, disorder, tyrany, rebellion, barbarity, slavery, public lowness and misery.

7.

To the law of religion.

Goods.

True ideas of God and providence, true religion, its pleasures, resignation to the Deity, imitation of the Deity, consciousness of conformity to him, and of his favour and approbation.

Evils.

False ideas of God and providence, superstition, idolatry, blind zeal, dread of the Deity, sense of disconformity to him, and fear of his displeasure.

All these phenomena are reducible to the excellent general laws already considered, which fit and qualify man for a noble end or happiness.This is a short view of the principal appearances in the human system. Now all the appearances reducible to those laws must be good, the laws being good. And that they are such is evident; for if the preceeding account of our frame, and the laws relative to it be true, it plainly and necessarily follows, 1. “That, in consequence of them, we are made for a very considerable degree of happiness and perfection of the moral sort chiefly.” And, 2. “That there is no<218> affection, disposition, power or faculty in our nature which merely produces evil; or which, on the contrary, does not produce very many great goods and no evils, but what are the effects of such a general prevalence of these laws, as makes our constitution a good whole, or adapted to a noble end.”Therefore there are no evils absolutely considered arising from our frame. But if these conclusions be true, then are no effects in the human system evils absolutely considered; that is, with respect to the whole frame and constitution of human nature. In order to have a just notion of the government of the world, and of its Author, we need only ask ourselves, towards which kind of phenomena, the good or the opposite bad ones, the natural tendency of our powers and dispositions is; whether it is for the sake of the bad ones, which arises from their misuse or misguidance, that we are endowed with these powers and dispositions which constitute our frame; or for the sake of the good ones towards which these powers and dispositions naturally operate?If we judge in this case, as we do in other like ones, we must conclude that all our powers are given us for a very useful and noble end. Let us judge here as we do in analogous cases with regard to moral agents. Is one thought to have bestowed money, power, or any gift upon one which may be employed to good purposes, that they may be misapplied and abused to bad ones unless we are previously certain of the malignity and wicked disposition and intention of the giver: but ought we not to form like judgments in like cases? But which is more, if we reflect that together with all our powers and dispositions, the Author of nature hath given us a moral sense, to what other purpose can we suppose our powers to be given in this manner, or so conjoined, but for the best use or the best end; since our moral reason and sense cannot be implanted in us for any other purpose, but to point and prompt us to the best use of all our powers, appetites and affections?Our moral sense cannot possibly be given us for any other reason but to guide us to the right use of all our powers. For this moral sense is as naturally fitted for directing us right, and for no other end, as a helm is to guide and steer a ship.<219>

How do we judge of any machine natural or artificial? Do we not say, it is fitted for that end to which it is properest to serve; or that to be applied to its most useful purpose, is its perfect and most natural state? Thus we judge of plants, trees, ships, watches, and all sorts of structures, animate or inanimate. Why then should we pronounce or judgea other-wise concerning man and the human system? or can we do so without departing from all the received rules of judging of any thing; all the rules of judging either used in philosophy or common life?Our whole frame is good. For all effects reducible to the law of knowledge, Ought we not therefore to reason in this manner with regard to every law of our nature? as for instance, with regard to the law of knowledge; that must be owned to be a good law which is necessary to our being capable of science, prudence, philosophy, arts natural and moral, power, virtue and merit; tho’ in consequence of the same power we cannot but be capable of contracting prejudices, forming narrow views, and making false judgments; or tho’ in consequence of the very laws and establishments that render knowledge progressive and dependent on ourselves, and by which we have a certain sphere of activity, power and dominion, errors, prejudices, wrong associations, false judgments, and therefore bad choice, and unreasonable pursuits cannot be otherwise avoidable by us, than by the right exercise of our understanding and reason to which we are prompted and directed in the only way we can be so consistently with our own exercising and employing them; that is, by our delight in order, general laws, and the contemplation of public good. Or to give another instance, 2. With regard to the law of society.and all effects reducible to the law of society; or to any other of the laws of our nature above mentioned, That must be a good law with regard to the human system, which binds and unites us together, by making our greatest happiness depend upon our uniting<220> together in a proper manner to promote that end; tho’ in consequence of that very law our greatest happiness cannot otherwise be acquired or attained than by right confederacy and union; and therefore many miseries must arise from disunion, and from uniting in an unfit or improper manner,—and so on.—For, in like manner, must we reason with respect to all the other laws of our nature that have been mentioned, and their phenomena or effects, which it is needless again to repeat.must be sufficiently accounted for, if explication of phenomena hath any meaning at all. Now if this way of reasoning be good, then is nature sufficiently vindicated by the account that hath been given of the laws of our nature; for if it be good, then every effect concerning which we can reason in the manner as above, is sufficiently explained and accounted formorally as well as physically; since it is thus reduced to an establishment or general law and principle in nature, necessary to many excellent purposes, for which were not our nature fitted, it would not be so perfect as it is.

For all the preceeding reasonings about the fitness of laws go on in the same way that is admitted to be good in every other case.But that the reasoning is good, is evident, 1. Since it is that very way of reasoning we admit in every other case to be good, and without admitting which natural philosophy cannot advance one step: for what does, or can natural philosophy do, but reduce natural appearances to general laws, and shew the goodness of these laws. 2. But which is more, it must be true, in general, that no whole can be a good whole in any other sense but this, that its parts, and all the references of its parts, with all the laws according to which these operate or are operated upon, are adjusted to a very good end: Such a whole is a good whole in any proper or conceiveable sense of a good whole. And therefore our structure is such.

In natural philosophy in particular.This account therefore of nature is strictly philosophical, or philosophy and the explication of nature hath no meaning. We must admit it, or by parity of reason be obliged to give up with natural philosophy, and say it does not sufficiently explain or<221> account for appearances by reducing them to good general laws;The preceeding account of human nature is therefore strictly philosophical. but that something else must be done. Now what that something more means no philosopher has yet declared.

The case with regard to our constitution is briefly this. ’Tis impossible to make beings capable of attaining to any qualifications or improvements, and of being happy by so doing,A recapitulation of it to prove this. otherwise than by providing them with the powers, faculties, affections, materials, and occasions of attaining to them. And therefore, this being done, a being is duly fitted, qualified or furnished for a certain degree of perfection, and is in its kind of a perfect make, well deserving its place in nature, which, without such a kind, could not be full, coherent and rise in due degree. To demand more to moral perfection than the necessary provision and furniture for such perfection, is to demand in order to sufficient provision and furniture, some thing more than sufficient provision and furniture. It is to demand that moral attainments may be attainments without being attained, acquisitions without being acquired.a Wherefore our frame and make is sufficiently vindicated, when it appears that we are, as has been shewn, excellently provided by nature for very great acquisitions in knowledge, power, virtue and merit, and by that means in happiness and perfection; if we set ourselves to make a right use of our natural abilities, as<222> we are directed and excited to do by our natural instincts, affections or determinations. Natural endowments, properly speaking, are not virtues or moral perfections; they are but the foundation, the capacity of and furniture for moral improvements, acquisitions and virtues; the pre-requisites to moral perfection and happiness. But who dares say to himself, that he has it not in his power to attain to a very high degree of perfection? What man may attain to, we know from many examples in history and in present times; and who can look upon such characters, and not feel that man may arrive at a truly noble degree of dignity and worth? They cast us at a distance indeed, and upbraid us; but why? but because we feel that it is in our power, if we would but earnestly set about it, or if we are not sadly wanting to ourselves, even to do more than they?

That must be the natural end of a being,a to the pursuit of which his powers are fitted, and<223> the pursuit of which is his soundest, his pleasantest state.Conclusion concerning our nature. N.B. See in the notes a true picture of our nature, dignity, happiness, and end, drawn by Cicero, and inferred from the same principles we have laid down in this essay. It remains therefore to be enquired how long man is likely to exist; or whether he is not designed for immortality. But so are we made with regard to moral perfection; the pursuit of it therefore is our natural, our healthful, our sound or happy, as well as perfect state. So that if the preceeding account of man be true, we may justly conclude, “That tho’ the Author of nature, who hath filled his creation with all possible degrees of beauty, perfection and happiness, hath made a species of beings lower than angels; yet man, who is this species, is crowned by him with glory and honour, and invested with a very large and noble sphere of power and dominion.”80 If the preceeding account of man be true, we are made for progress in virtue. And as any machine must be made for what it is made, tho’ it cannot last forever, or whether it last but one day or a thousand years; so man must be made for what he is made, whether he is to last but threescore years, or forever. But having now found for what end man is made while he exists, let us enquire what reason can determine<224> with any probability concerning his duration; or whether there is not good ground to believe that he is made immortal, and consequently for eternal progress, in proportion to his care to improve his moral faculties. Which is the point proposed to be proved by this enquiry.

But before we proceed, it is proper to oppose to the preceeding account of man, such a state of mankind as it is reasonable to suppose must have been the product of a malignant Creator, who had no sense of, nor regard for virtue, or the good and perfection of moral beings.But before we proceed to that, in order, by a kind of contrast, to give further light to the preceeding reasonings concerning man, let us endeavour to imagine to ourselves an idea of what the workmanship of a malicious creator must have been; in consequence of his malign disposition; for certainly we shall find that human nature must have been the very reverse of what it now is, had it been formed by a malicious Creator, or with vicious and ungenerous intention. “Would we allow room, (says an excellent author) to our invention to conceive what sort of mechanism, what constitution of senses or affections a malicious, powerful being must have formed, we should soon see how few evidences there are for any such apprehensions of the Author of this world. Our mechanism, as far as ever we have yet discovered,<225> is wholly contrived for good, no cruel device, no art or contrivance to produce evil, no such mark or scope seems even to be aimed at: But how easy had it been to have even contrived some necessary engines of misery without any advantage, some member of no use, but to be matter of torment: Senses incapable of bearing surrounding objects without pain, eyes pierced with the light, a pallat offended with the fruits of the earth; a skin as tender as the coats of the eye, and yet some more furious pain forcing us to bear these torments: Human society might have been made as the company of enemies, and yet a perpetual more violent fear might have forced us to bear it. Malice, rancour, distrust might have been our natural temper: our honour and self-approbation might have depended upon injuries, and the torments of others have been made our delight, which yet we could not have enjoyed through perpetual fear. Many such contrivances we may easily conceive, whereby an evil mind could have gratified his malice by our misery; but how unlike are they all to the structure and design of the mechanism of this world, to the mechanism and structure of our minds in particular?”a

If we pursue this thought a little further, we shall immediately perceive, that a malignant Author would have made our frame and constitution quite the reverse of what it is. All our senses would have been made so many avenues to pain alone, and inevitably such. Every increase of our understanding would have been tormentful: and we would have been made dependent one upon another, not for our good, but merely for our suffering and torture. Every pain would have been much keener and intenser, and the effects of laws which would have produced very little if any good. Laws would not have been made general for the greater good, but in order to bring about greater misery in the<226> sum of things, and no pleasure would have been intended but for a decoyer and seducer into pain.

In fine, let us run over in our minds all the laws of our frame which have been mentioned, and we shall plainly see that had we been contrived by a malicious Author for evil, not one of them would have taken place, but on the contrary their opposites: knowledge would have been equally necessary and painful; equally difficult and tormenting, and yet indispensably necessary; we would not have been allured to it by the pleasure of truth, nor fitted for it by a sense of order and a complacency in analogies and general laws. And it would have been impossible for us ever to have attained to facility, readiness and perfection in arts, sciences, or practices by frequent acts; but repeated exercises would have been lost labour, and our toil would always have been to begin again. Instead of a moral sense, we would have had an immoral one; or we would have approved good affections, and yet have suffered by them, and not virtue but vice would have been private interest, that so men might not be otherwise the same kind, than as they were impelled and fitted by their passions and powers more particularly to work one another’s misery. No form of society would have tended to produce perfection and happiness; or no other combinations and confederacies would have been possible, but those that result in disorder, ruin and misery. All nature would have filled us with horror and dread; we would not only have hated one another, but have hated ourselves and our being; and yet we should not have been able to put an end to it.

Our frame and constitution is therefore an infringible argument of the wisdom, benevolence, and excellent moral disposition of the Author of our nature, and of the generous administration that prevails over all his works. We are indeed the image of an all perfect Creator; since tho’ there be no reason to think that we hold the highest rank in the<227> scale of created intelligence, yet we are endowed with very noble powers, and are placed in an excellent situation for their improvement to a very high pitch of perfection and happiness. And thus, “are crowned with glory and honour, tho’ we be lower than the angels.”

CHAPTER IX

Let us now enquire what judgment ought to be formed concerning death:It now remains to enquire what may be fairly and justly concluded from human nature, and the present constitution of things concerning death or the dissolution of our bodily frame? In order to determine which question, we need only state the phenomenon in a true light. And thus it stands. “We are by nature excellently equipped and furnished for attaining to a very considerable degree of moral perfection, or of knowledge and virtue by the due culture of our natural endowments; and are placed in a very proper situation for that effect,The phenomenon fairly stated. even by having relation to, and communion with the sensible world by means of our bodies: but our bodies are made liable to dissolution: they are not made to endure for ever; but must wear out, and may be destroyed while they are yet sound and vigorous, by different kinds of violence, in consequence of their structure and subjection to the laws of matter and motion.” This is the truth of the case. What judgment then is it reasonable to form of this phenomenon, or of this state and tendency of things with regard to mankind?

Futurity is wisely hid from us.Futuritya is wisely hid from us; it is not fit that infants should know whether they are to live to<228> old age and foresee the fortunes of their lives: In general, it is not fit for us to know such good or bad accidents as are to happen us in consequence of the laws of the sensible world, or our social connexions which are in the nature of things unavoidable.

• Prudens futuri temporis exitum,
• Caliginosa nocte premit Deus.81

Or as our own Poet has it,

• Heav’n from all creatures hides the book of fate,
• All but the page prescrib’d, their present state,
• From brutes what men, from men what spirits know,
• Or who could suffer being here below?
• Oh! blindness to the future! kindly giv’n,
• That each may fill the circle mark’d by heav’n.

• Essay on man, Epist. 182

We know, or may know enough of the settled order and succession of things for the regulation of our conduct, that is, for the common exigencies of natural life, and for avoiding the bad consequences of folly and vice, and reaping the good fruits of prudence and virtue; and that, it is evident, is all the foresight which is convenient, or can be pleasant to us, and therefore our duty and business is as the Poet expresses it.

• ———Quod adest memento
• Componere aequus.83

Now for the same wise reasons that future events in this present life are hid from us, the particular events which are to happen to us after death; that is, the various scenes or changes of being we may be intended to pass through after leaving this state, are likewise beyond our forecast. But tho’ our future state cannot be fully foreseen by us, because such knowledge would neither be agreeable nor convenient for us;<229> yet from the present state, we may infer very probably that death is not a total dissolution of our moral powers and their acquirements, but that these do survive our bodies.Yet we have reason to infer that death is not a dissolution of our moral powers. Because, 1. The dissolution of our bodies is no more than putting an end to our communication with the sensible world, or to one kind of ideas we now receive from without, and the order in which they are conveyed into our minds; and therefore, there can be no reason to infer from hence the total dissolution of all powers. 2. Because this state is but our entrance on life, and having all the appearances of a proper first state of enjoyment, or rather of trial and discipline, for rational beings; it is natural to conclude, that it is but our first state of probation, and not the whole of our existence. 3. Because the ideas of wisdom and good order, which are natural to the human mind, or to which we are led by the consideration of the present state of things wherever we cast our eyes; and in the perswasion of the prevalence of which throughout the universal system, we must be the more confirmed, the more we examine nature, or the fuller view we are able to take of it: All these considerations give us good ground to hope, that beings endowed with such powers as men are, which may survive one method of enjoyment and exercise, were not made to be wilfully destroyed; or are not so totally subjected to the laws of matter and motion, that they cannot subsist any longer than these laws take place. We may indeed fairly put the issue of the question about our future existence upon this footing.It is not analogous to our make to suppose that it is. “Whether it be more probable, that is, more analogous and consistent with the preceeding account of our make to imagine that we are made with moral powers, merely for the entertainments and exercises which we are capable of receiving from a sensible world by our bodies for the short while they only can last; or that it is but our first state of trial, and to be succeeded by another such existence as good order and wisdom<230> in the whole requires?” For surely, if in what we have seen, by enquiring strictly into our constitution, nothing but good order and perfect contrivance and harmony appear, there can be no reason to apprehend that disorder, far less, that cruel destruction, or wilful annihilation, ever can happen under such a wise and benevolent administration, as the present frame of things strongly and clearly bespeaks.

It is proper to consider this matter more fully.But in order to set an affair, of such consequence to the quiet and satisfaction of every thinking person, in a true light, I would offer the following observations, which are but so many corollaries evidently resulting from the account that hath been given of human nature, and of the general laws to which all the effects and appearances belonging to it are reducible.

Our present connexion with a sensible world by means of our bodies, is arbitrary, not necessary.I. We have a thinking part that receives our sensible ideas from without, or upon which they are impressed, according to certain laws. It is not, as ancient philosophers have said,a the eyes, or the<231> ears, or any of our outward senses (properly speaking) which perceive: these are only certain methods<232> or orders, according to which, certain sensations are produced in us. Our thinking part therefore, which is properly ourself, is absolutely distinct from all these sensations which it receives from without. And what follows from thence, but that there can be no natural or necessary connexion between the subsistence of our thinking part, and its having its present sensations from without. But if this be true,We may therefore survive such a connexion. then may it not only survive the prevalence of the order in which our present sensations are conveyed to us; but it cannot otherwise perish, when that order ceases to take place, than in consequence of a positive appointment of nature that our minds should not survive such an order. I need not dwell long upon this head, since it is owned by all philosophers that our present communication with a sensible world, according to the laws of which sensible ideas are produced in our minds, is but an arbitrary connexion.Our perishing totally with it, must be the effect of an arbitrary appointment that it shall be so. For if this be true, it must necessarily follow, that our minds might have existed without any such communication, and may subsist when it no longer takes place. Nay, it must follow, that as the present connexion between our thinking part and a sensible world, by means of our bodily organization, is but an arbitrary connexion; so if we are totally destroyed when our communication with a sensible world by means of our bodies is at an end, that must likewise be the effect of as positive and arbitrary an institution, as our present connexion with a sensible world is. But what reason is there to fear such a destroying will or humour in nature?

There is no reason to apprehend such an annihilating or destroying humour in nature.II. The destruction of material beings cannot properly be called destruction, since existence is lost upon matter, considered by itself as an unperceiving substance; and the end of its creation can be nothing else but its being perceived by some thinking beings. When matter therefore is said to be destroyed, all that can be said to be done is, that perceiving beings<233> have lost a certain class or order of perceptions, conveyed unto them from without, according to certain laws, which now no longer take place.The destruction of matter is not properly destruction. The rules of analogous reasoning surely do not permit us to infer from the most evident symptoms of the destruction of unperceiving substances, the total destruction of perceiving beings, since these latter are the only ones to whom existence can really be any benefit or blessing? But which is more, when we narrowly examine what we call the destruction of matter, we evidently perceive that it is not properly destruction, but change of form.Wherefore the destruction of a perceiving being cannot be inferred from the destruction of matter. And certainly, if there really be no destruction at all, even of what is not benefited by existence, there can be no ground to apprehend the destruction of any being that is. The true state of the case, with regard to matter, as far as we can observe its changes, is,

• Look round our world: behold the chain of love
• Combining all below, and all above.
• See, plastic nature working to this end,
• The single atoms each to other tend,
• Attract, attracted to, the next in place,
• Form’d and impell’d, its neighbour to embrace.
• See matter next, with various life endu’d,
• Press to one centre still, the gen’ral good.
• See dying vegetables life sustain,
• See life dissolving vegetate again:
• All forms that perish other forms supply,
• By turns they catch the vital breath, and die.

• Essay on man, Epist. 3.84

But there is no ground to think any particle of matter is destroyed: what we call so, is really but change of form.Now if we ought and must reason from analogy, when we see no examples in nature of destruction, but merely of change, it is only change, and not destruction that can be inferred. It is only from a destroying humour prevailing visibly in nature, that the destruction of perceiving beings can be inferred. And therefore if we do not find plain symptoms of<234> a destroying temper in nature; or of delight, not in frugality and preservation, but in waste, and wilful annihilation, we can have no reason to suspect nature to be a destroyer of moral beings and powers? But whence can we have any ground to entertain such a cruel and gloomy idea of its course and tendency;A Fortiori there is no reason to think any perceiving being is destroyed. since it is plain, even unconscious matter, in its seeming dissolution, is not destroyed, but only changed?

All that can be inferred from death is, that a particular order in which certain sensations are now conveyed into our minds, then ceases.III. In reality, all that can be said to be done, when our bodies are dissolved by death is, that a certain method by which our minds are now affected with sensations and passions, ceases to take place. But can the total destruction of moral powers and beings be inferred from the ceasing of one certain method of being affected, or of receiving sensations from without? According to such a way of arguing, no one sense can be lost; but by parity of reason it might be said, the being who hath lost it can no longer exist. For it would be in vain to say, the present question is not about the dissolution of one organ, but of all our organs; for all of them are as distinct from us, that is, from our thinking part, as any one of them; nay, if any one of them be distinct from it, every one of them must be distinct from it, and consequently all of them together must be different from it.Whence a destruction of all thinking powers cannot be deduced. Further, experience tells us, that when all the senses cease to convey sensations from without, imagination, memory and reason can operate, and afford sufficient entertainment and employment to our mind. This happens frequently, not only in sleep, when all the organs of sense are fast locked up; but likewise in serious study, when the mind is intent on the search of truth and knowledge, or conversing with itself about its own actions and duties. How therefore can the destruction of all our moral powers, or of our thinking part, be justly inferred, merely from our ceasing to<235> have communication by our outward organs with a material world? Does any philosopher doubt that certain beings have or may have ideas from without, to which we are utter strangers? Or will any philosopher say, it is impossible even for us to have ideas conveyed to us from without, which we have never yet perceived, and in a quite different way and order from that in which our present ideas of sense are conveyed to us? How then can the total cessation of one way of conveying ideas into the mind from without, prove the total cessation of memory, imagination, reason, and other moral powers, and the absolute annihilation of moral beings! Every presumption which is not founded upon likeness or parity, is allowed in all cases to have no foundation; but what likeness or parity is there, between death, whatever view we take of it, and our total annihilation?There is no likeness between death, and total destruction of our being; whatever view we take of it. Is there any likeness or parity between the destruction of unperceived things not benefited by existence, and perceiving beings, who alone can be said properly to exist, because they alone can properly be said to enjoy? Or is there any likeness, any parity between the constant preservation of inanimate substances, in such a manner that not one particle of matter is lost, but only changes its form, and the total, absolute destruction of perceiving beings? Is there any likeness or parity between the cessation of one manner of being affected with sensations, and the total cessation of all conveyance of ideas into minds from without? Or finally, is there any likeness or parity between the total cessation of all conveyance of sensible ideas from without, and the total destruction of all higher and nobler powers of the intellectual and moral kind?<236>

The objections of Pliny and Lucretius against immortality, absurdly suppose that matter can think.IV. That rant of Pliny the elder,a and of Lucretius before him, in which they affect to crowd a great many absurdities together, as resulting from or included in the supposition of our existence after death, does itself terminate in a very glaring contradiction to all sense and reason: for it proceeds upon the supposition of a necessary, physical connexion between the existence of the present material world to us, and the existence of our thinking part. Our bodies and our minds do indeed grow up together, as it is very fit mates should; and when the one suffers in any degree, the other sympathizes with a most tender fellow-feeling, insomuch that when<237> the body is heavily oppressed and disordered, the mind is bowed down, and cannot raise itself to its highest exercises. But all this only proves that in this present state, our minds and bodies are united together in the closest and most intimate manner: nay, properly speaking, it only proves, that in this present state our minds are variously affected by the various operations of the laws of matter and motion, according to a certain fixed order. For it is our mind, or thinking part, which perceives, or which is touched and affected: matter or body cannot perceive or feel.They only prove a present dependence of our body and mind, according to certain laws of nature. Body, or union with body and matter, can, therefore, only mean a certain order or method, according to which the mind is affected. And therefore to say, that mind must cease to exist when body ceases, is indeed to say, that mind must necessarily cease to exist, when one way of its being affected no longer takes place: or it is to say, that mind itself is not distinct from some of its perceptions, and the order in which these are conveyed to it; both which assertions are equally absurd.

To say with the above-mentioned authors, “What probability is there, that we begin to live when we perish; that we become gods, or at least demi-gods, in comparison of our present state, when we cease to be; or that we are destroyed in order to exist in a more perfect manner?” All this is manifestly begging the question, and taking it as granted that our minds dissolve with our bodies, and consequently, that our thinking part is nothing distinct from its sensible perceptions. But who is not conscious that the principle in him which receives ideas from without, is totally distinct from these passive impressions? Or can any philosopher assert so glaring an absurdity, as to say, passive, unperceiving matter can any otherwise affect a thinking being, than by means of laws appointing a connexion between its operations; or, more properly speaking, operations produced upon it, and certain sensations or<238> passions in minds. But all the idle stuff about matter’s acting has been too long ago exploded by philosophers to be now refuted.

This is a very good first state for such a progressive being as man.V. Let us therefore proceed to such conclusions, as a complete view of our present frame and state suggests, with regard to our surviving the dissolution of our bodies, or the present arbitrary union, by means of our bodies, with a sensible world. Now from what has been proved to be really our constitution, it is plain that we set out with very good furniture for making considerable progress in knowledge and virtue: our very senses are chiefly given us in order to be instruments and means of virtuous exercises in this present state: what therefore is the natural language resulting from such a frame, but that we are made for continual progress in moral perfection, in proportion to our culture, and our situation for culture, in whatever state or circumstances we may be placed? For because death happens, nothing more can be said on that account, than, “That there is a way at present by which our thinking part is affected, according to certain laws, which ceases upon the dissolution of our organical frame by death.”A first state cannot last always, but must give way to another. It cannot be said, merely on that account, that a Being fitted for moral progress, cannot make progress after such a way of being affected from without no more takes place. The more natural conclusion is, that such a way of being affected ceasing, Beings fitted for progress shall be placed in new circumstances of progress and improvement. A progressive being cannot be made to continue always in the same state; and therefore a being so made has no reason to imagine its first state shall be its only state; or to conclude any thing else, when its first state ceases, than that, as a first state ought not to be, nor cannot indeed in the nature of things be the only state of progressive beings; so accordingly it now goes to another, proper to succeed to its first.<239> It is therefore reasonable to think that this state only ceases, as the first state of a progressive being ought to do. This is certainly the conclusion death leads us to, if we take a just view of our moral make; moral powers being evidently made for progress, and therefore not for one state: otherwise we must say, that moral powers, which in themselves look to be designed and fit for perpetual cultivation and improvement, must necessarily cease to be, because, though they must have a first state, and are not made always to continue in one state, but for progression, yet this state ceases to be; which is in effect to say, that because our first state ceases, we are not likely to have another, though it must cease, because it is but a first. In other words, it is to argue thus; we must have a first state, being progressive beings, which state can only be a first state; yet if it ceases, we must cease to be. Than which nothing can be more absurd.

That our death is attended with pain, only proves that the laws of union with body continue to operate till the union is quite dissolved.It is true, our present state is dissolved with concomitant pains; but what follows from thence? but that it is dissolved in consequence of certain laws of matter and motion, which must, till they have no longer any influence upon us, variously affect us with pains and pleasures: it only follows from hence, that the dissolution comes about analogously to, or consistently with the general laws, according to which we are affected with pain or pleasure from without. These pains are no more a proof of the dissolution of the mind, than any other pains proceeding from the same laws, which the mind survives. And our moral fabric plainly bespeaks only a temporary connexion with matter, as a proper first state, for their formation, exercise and improvement. For even during this connexion, our sensible appetites and gratifications are, according to our fabric, made to submit to our moral powers, in such a manner that unless they are directed and governed by them, they afford no true happiness and enjoyment to us; but rather contrariwise bring pain and<240> misery upon us. To illustrate this reasoning more fully, let us consider,

There is a plain reason why there should be such a being as man, or a being with such moral powers united with body.VI. There is an evident reason why, in the scale of existence, there should be such a being as man, that is, a moral being connected for a while with a material world; since were there no such being in the world, there would be a great void in nature: such a kind of being is absolutely necessary in the gradation of life and perfection, which makes the riches, the plenitude of nature; because without such a being, nature would not be full and coherent. But there is no reason, on the other hand, why a being made for progress, should always continue in the same state: nay, it is repugnant to the very nature of a progressive being, or a being made for progress toward perfection proportionably to the culture of its powers, that such a being should always continue in that situation which is its beginning or first state. This present condition of mankind, which is requisite in its place to the fullness and consistence of nature, affords us in our first beginning excellent materials and means of improvement in knowledge and virtue, considered as a beginning. And therefore the question is, why it ought not to be considered merely as a beginning?But there is no reason to think such an union should always continue, or be the only state in which our moral powers are placed. If there is an end to it, as there plainly is by death, what does that prove, but that a beginning or first state of progressive powers does not always last; or that, as it ought not to last, so neither does it? An end to a first state can prove no more, but that it is a first state; its further look must be inferred from the nature of the powers themselves, which make this first state; and therefore it having been found that our powers, sensitive and moral, as they are conjoined in our frame, make an excellent first state, for our formation and improvement in moral perfection; which state is by no means the only state our thinking part, with all its moral powers, can subsist in; it is reasonable<241> to conclude, since this, considered only as a first state, is a very good and proper one, that it is only such. In that view, all is orderly and consonant to the general course and analogy of nature, so far as we can pry into it; and the opposite notion is quite repugnant to the order, beauty and wise administration every where discernible in nature. And therefore this must be the true view of our present state, “That it is indeed our first, which must cease, but not the whole of our existence.”

And it is evident that union with body and a material world cannot always last.VII. But in the next place, as we see a plain reason why the present condition of mankind should take place in nature, which is so fit a state for us to be formed in, or rather to form ourselves in, to a very high degree of perfection, since without such a being as man, nature would not be full and coherent; so we may see a very plain reason, why this state does not always continue: not only a moral reason, why, being a beginning state, it should not continue; but a physical reason why it cannot last always. The existence, that is, the perception of a sensible world, is necessary to the fullness and riches of nature, and the perfection of its works. But this beautiful and useful sensible world, with which we have now communication by means of our bodily organization, must wear out, it cannot last for ever: such is the nature and constitution of matter, or such is the essential law of nature, with regard to all matter that falls within our sense or observation, that it, like artificial machines, is wasted by attrition; all the springs in it decay, become weak, and unable to perform their functions, and at last are quite worn out: nay, this happens to artificial machines, because they are material ones. Such then is the nature of bodies; such is the nature of matter in general.This is a plain consequence of the properties of body or matter. Wherefore the present constitution of our mundan system cannot hold out for ever, its powers will fail, it will at last be no<242> longer able to produce its ends. Or, which is the same thing to us, to all intents and purposes, since the sensible world to us, is the sensible world we are affected by, perceive, and have commerce with; our bodies, by which we have communication with a material world, as they naturally grow up to perfection, so they as naturally decline and dwindle away: nor can we have bodies that must not so waste and consume, composed of any matter we know; or endued with the properties our bodies must necessarily be, to have correspondence with the matter we are acquainted with; since all the matter we know is evidently alterable in its form and texture, by the same laws which render it of any use to us.It is owned by all philosophers. This all philosophers are agreed in, and therefore we need not insist longer upon it.

Hence it is reasonable to conclude, that our moral powers, naturally capable of lasting for ever without wearing out, are only united for a time with bodies, in order to the fulness of nature, and because it is a very proper first state for our powers to be formed and improved in.But what follows from this, when we compare our moral powers with this system of matter with which we are now united, which thus perishes; whereas they are of an unperishing nature, and capable of eternal improvement, without any specific alteration of their present make: what follows from thence, but that we are but for a time, and in our beginning state, united with what, though it cannot last for ever, yet while it lasts; or, which is the same thing to us, while our correspondence with it lasts, affords to our moral powers in their first beginnings, very proper objects to exert themselves about; very proper means and occasions for their improvement. This, certainly, is what alone can be rationally inferred from the complex view of our frame, especially if we add to this,

VIII. That in consequence of the frame of our earth, and the nature of our present united state, all mankind cannot live together on earth; but as it now happens, one generation must make room for another; because the earth would soon be overpeopled, if it were not inhabited as it is, by successions.<243> I need not tell those who have the smallest tincture of natural philosophy,Men must live upon earth by successive generations. that in order to make our earth more capacious, or a proper habitation for a much greater number of inhabitants of various kinds than it now is, that its magnitude must be increased, and consequently the whole constitution of our mundan system, if not of all things that exist, must be changed: for if the proportions of the magnitudes of the bodies which compose it be altered, their distances, orbits, attractions, and in one word, all the laws relative to them, must be changed: and therefore to demand such an alteration with regard to our earth, is in reality to desire, there were no such system in nature as our mundan one, but that its space were entirely void, or filled with another system of a different texture: which will be allowed to be a demand that is physically absurd; since, as far as we can carry our researches, or as analogy can lead us to form any notion of things, nature is full and coherent as it is, and cannot be so if any change were made.Our earth could not be rendered more capacious, without altering our whole mundan system, and in all likelihood the whole universe. But since it is so that mankind must occupy the earth by successive generations, and that the earth which is a fit and proper part of our mundan system; which in its space is the properest system with regard to the whole of nature: what follows from this, according to the rules of analogical reasoning, but that though one generation of men gives place to another, and must do so, and things are likely to continue so, while the earth continues to be a fit habitation for them, which it is likely to be while the laws of our mundan system are able to hold it together in tolerable order; yet our mundan system, and consequently our earth, and all successions of its inhabitants, must have an end at last, and shall be succeeded by another system, formed perhaps out of the ruins of this, which shall be in its place and order of succession, as beautifully, regularly, and beneficially constituted, as this present one is.When our mundan system is able to hold out no longer, there is reason from analogy to think it shall be succeeded by another, proper to succeed to it, perhaps rising out of its ruins. This is<244> indeed, what present order, and the analogy of things naturally lead us to conceive: for why should we apprehend nature to be exhausted by the present production? What reason have we to believe its fecundity so limited and scanty? Or if this be not its only birth, why should we imagine that its future ones shall be less regular, shapely, and sound? But these things I only mention, to shew how analogy leads us to think of nature in general, or with regard to its general order of production, that we may the better feel the force of the presumptions which arise from analogy, with regard to ourselves. For if we have reason to think so of nature in general,But if so, we have yet better reason to think this is but our first state, which shall be succeeded by one very proper to follow it. as hath been suggested, why ought we not to think of nature with regard to ourselves in like manner? What reason have we to fear that the parent who produced us, hath provided so liberally for us, and set us so well at present, cannot provide another habitation for us, when this fails, as well fitted to us as a second state, as this is as a first state? Hath nature, which hath produced our moral powers, and such variety of entertainment and employment for them, no further power, no further fertility? Is it quite drained, is it quite unable to support us longer, or to make further provision for us?

If mankind cease to be at death, there will necessarily be a void, a chasm in nature.IX. Before we proceed to other arguments to corroborate all that hath been said, let us add, that the same principle so easily admitted by all philosophers, with regard to our present state, “That without it nature could not have been full and coherent,” extends a great deal further than some are apt to imagine. It affords an excellent argument for our future existence. For if mankind cease to be at death, or when their bodies are dissolved, there must necessarily, upon that event, be a chasm or blank in nature; since it is only a transition by man from this to another state, suited to him as coming from the present one, which can continue the chain<245> of being without any interruption or breach. It is, upon supposition of our perishing totally by death, broken and discontinued. This opinion concerning the plenitude of nature, and a rising scale of existence through all possible gradations of being, to the highest, is not only an ancient one, but it is what the contemplation of naturenaturally, if not necessarily directs us to: for where do we perceive any void? how nicely, how subtly, or by what imperceptible steps do beings rise to man, the only order of moral agents within our observation in our present state? And if we do not perceive a chasm in the descending gradation of nature, from us to meer vegetative life, why should we dream of any blank in the ascending gradation above us, to which by our imagination (so vast is its expanding power) we can set no bounds.That nature is full and coherent, we have reason to conclude from experience and analogy. This however is certain, that if the maxim be well founded, and there be no reason to think that there ever can be any void in nature; it must likewise be true, that no perceiving being shall ever cease to exist, but shall continue to be, and to pass through the gradations suited to its kind, and consequently to the riches and fullness which makes the perfection of nature. Or whatever may be said of merely sensitive beings of the lower order (to whom, however, why should we begrudge immortality, as if the value of ours would be lessened by its being common to all perceiving beings) at least, it must be true that moral agents cannot cease to be, but must continue for ever, and must pass thro’ the several gradations naturally suited to them, in proportion to their culture and care to improve.Yet that maxim must be false, if man is not made for eternal progress, and ceases to be at death. This must be true, because indeed, not only upon the ceasing of any species, but upon the ceasing of any individual of moral agents to exist, there necessarily would be a chasm, an interruption in the chain of nature; a want, a deficiency, instead of fullness. For a moral being, instead of making the progress it is naturally fitted for, would thus stop short, and<246> so leave nature void of that particular progression it, and it alone, can make or fill up. The progress man, as such, is fitted to make in a succeeding state to this, is no less necessary to the complete fullness and perfection of nature, than that which he is fitted for in this present state; for it is only a being so constituted, that is, it is only man, who can make that progress; and all possible progresses in moral perfection are requisite to make nature full and coherent. That idea involves in it the existence of all capacities of moral perfection which can exist, and consequently of all possible progresses, or all the progresses which may be made by moral powers of all sorts, in proportion to the culture, implied in the very notion of moral perfection, of each according to its kind, and in its particular manner. If therefore the riches and perfection of nature consists in such fullness, and such fullness really be the end pursued by nature, man is not to perish, but to make for ever progress, inproportion to the pains he takes to improve himself.But we have no ground to doubt of the fullness of nature. But, indeed, as we cannot form any other notion of fullness and perfection in nature, but this which hath been described, so the further we advance in the knowledge of nature, the more instances we find of this fullness, riches, and coherence; and consequently, the more must we be confirmed in this opinion of nature, than which nothing can be more delightful.This idea is natural to the mind; it greatly delights in it. Our mind seems to be formed to conceive it, take hold of it, and rejoice in it with unspeakable triumph. Whence else could it afford us the satisfaction and transport it does; how else could it so wonderfully dilate, expand, and quicken our mind, were we not made to be so affected by it? And if it is naturally so pleasing, so exhilarating to the mind, must it not be true? can it be a delusion? Were not nature really as great as this conception, so natural to the human mind, represents it to be, whence could we have that idea? How could we be so great-minded<247> as to form it; how could nature lead us to it as the most natural sentiment?

But by fullness of nature can only be meant a full progress.It is needless, however, to tell philosophers that this notion concerning the fullness of nature, cannot without manifest absurdity, be extended to signify, “That nature hath always been full;” since created beings must begin to be; and that only hath no beginning which is uncreated, and exists by necessity of nature from all eternity: nor to signify, “that nature hath at all times been full, with all kinds of perfection and happiness, or capacities of them:” since moral powers, the chief of all powers, are in their nature progressive; and progress, in the very idea of it, supposes a time preceeding every acquired degree of perfection, in which that did not, nor could not exist; or, in other words, supposes intermediate steps by which the progress is made. The fullness of nature, therefore, can only mean a continued, unbroken progress towards fullness; if which take place, man must be immortal.Which cannot be the case, if man is not immortal. For otherwise a certain, possible progress would not take place; and so nature would not be a perfectly full, and coherent progress, which we have so good reason from the analogy of nature to think it is intended to be.

Hitherto we have only enquired what ought to be inferred from the course of nature by analogy.Hitherto I have only spoken of nature; because reasonings from analogy require no more, but that we argue from the observable state and course of things. And according to this way of reasoning, we see that from nature, considered as a whole, as one frame or constitution of things, there is no ground to imagine that the better or nobler parts in it, moral powers, do not, as well as all its other parts, naturally tend towards their highest and noblest end; or that they shall only last for a while, and then be destroyed: there is no appearance of any such imperfection, any such disorder and waste, any such destroying humour and tendency in nature.But this course of nature proves the Author of nature to be perfectly well disposed. In this way of reasoning, we have abstracted<248> from all consideration of the temper and disposition of the universal mind; and have considered nature itself just as we would consider and argue from any machine, by itself, with respect to its ultimate tendency. But since there can be no established course of things without a mind; and such a settled, wise course of things as we have found human nature and the laws relative to it to be, plainly proves the efficiency and superintendency of a powerful, wise and benevolent mind; let us now see how the conclusion will turn out upon changing the phrase: and if instead of arguing from the stated order and course of things, we reason from the nature of the Author, of which that affords a plain and irresistible proof, “Perfect, good and wise contrivance, is the good contrivance of some mind equal to it; it is therefore the contrivance and effect of a very powerful, wise, and good mind.” Let us therefore no longer leave the governing mind out of the question; and let us now ask ourselves what it is reasonable to think concerning death, since,

Let us therefore consider how the argument will stand when instead of nature, or the course of things, we say the good and wise Author of nature.1. Our frame and contexture shews in every respect an excellent moral disposition in our Maker, provided we are not destroyed by death, but are really intended, as our moral powers evidently seem to be, for eternal progress in moral perfection, proportionable to our care to improve in it; or since, could we but conclude that to be the case, there would be no ground at all to doubt of the perfect goodness of our Author, our present state being, upon that hypothesis, a most excellent first state of trial and formation for our moral powers, and consequently a full proof of an infinitely wise and generous superintendency.

Since, 2dly, We not only can exist after our connexion with a material world by means of our bodies ceases, there being no necessary, but only a voluntary or arbitrary connexion between our moral powers and bodies; or a sensible world, and the<249> dissolution of our bodies is but the necessary effect of the very same laws which render a sensible world, which cannot always last, while it lasts, so fit an occasion and subject for the improvement of our moral powers in this their first state.

Since, 3dly, The very nature of a progress supposes a change of state, the cessation of a first, and a transition to another: since, I say, all those principles are true, let us ask ourselves, whether it is not reasonable to look upon this as our proper first state, which shall be succeeded by another, as fit to follow it as this is to be our first state? Let us ask ourselves, whether this is not a reasonable conclusion from these principles; or what else can be supposed, that is so consonant to the nature of things, and to that temper and disposition of the Maker and Governor of the world which it indicates? For the argument in its weakest form must stand thus, “All nature looks well with respect to virtue, provided death does not annihilate our moral powers, and this be but our first state of trial and formation: all but this one doubtful phaenomenon bespeaks an excellent Maker and Governor.”How the argument must then stand in its weakest form. Now if this be the case, why does this single fact alarm us, or appear frightful to us, since our communion with this sensible world is but an arbitrary connexion; this sensible world cannot last always, but our moral powers may survive its destruction, and we cannot pass into another state without leaving this, which we only do in the manner necessary, in consequence of the very laws which render our present state, while it lasts, so fit a subject and means for the improvement of our powers. This, I say, is the only probable conclusion we can draw concerning death, from the consideration of our present frame, if our present connexion with a sensible world be only an arbitrary connexion. But the strength of conviction this argument carries along with it, in this shape, will encrease upon us, the more we reason the matter with ourselves, from the account that has been given of<250> our constitution, and of the order of things in this our present situation, relative to our moral powers.

It gathers strength from several considerations.For, I. If in the present state of mankind, even those laws of matter and motion, in consequence of which death happens, are so well adjusted to our happiness, or our progress in moral perfection, what reason have we to apprehend such bad management and intention toward man, as his total destruction by death plainly imports? It is only confusion and disorder which forebodes greater confusion and disorder:It is only from confusion and disorder that confusion and disorder can be reasonably inferred. it is only evil dispositions and intentions plainly displayed and evidenced, which can reasonably create fear: present order prognosticates future order; evidences of goodness and kind intention ought to create trust and confidence: seeing therefore man is made for a very noble end here; and since all the laws and powers relative to his situation are excellently fitted to that end, what ground can we have to conceive so ill of the disposition of our Author, as to think he had no other design with regard to us, than to equip and furnish us for everlasting progress, merely to have the pleasure of disappointing us, by demolishing our powers almost as soon as he gave us being; or as we had arrived by the course of things, to a tolerable conception of what our powers may attain to by due culture, if they are not wilfully destroyed. We can draw no just conclusion concerning the dissolution of our bodies at death, in consequence of the laws of the material creation, without taking into our consideration the other parts of our present make, and the ends to which they are adapted; for that would be to reason from a very partial view of the object.Our present state is an excellent first state, considered as such, and therefore it forebodes a good, orderly future state, to succeed it. And therefore the only question with regard to man is, whether there is any ground to think, from the consideration of his many moral faculties, that these are made to be destroyed with our bodily frame; or whether there is not, on the contrary, better reason to think that this state is his first probationary<251> one, or one very fit for him in the beginning of his existence, in order to his being schooled, tried and improved to a very considerable degree of perfection, but not his only one, or the whole of his existence. Now the result of all that has been said of our frame and constitution, and of the laws relative to our present condition prove, that it is an excellent first state, a very proper school for our moral improvement; a state in which we may by proper culture, in consequence of the occasions, materials and means it affords us, arrive at a very considerable degree of perfection as a first state. And why therefore should we think, that when our bodily organization is destroyed, and consequently all the present material objects of gratification or exercise are taken from us, our minds capable of higher pleasures and enjoyments, are also quite destroyed together with what they have only an arbitrary connexion with: a connexion which ought to cease with its end and use; a connexion which cannot in the nature of things always last; and which must of necessity cease if we are progressive beings, as we as plainly appear to be, as any machine appears to be fitted for its end; for a state cannot succeed to another, unless that other give way to it. Would not this indeed be to conclude, that to beings made for progress, and therefore to change states, what may be only a change of state, and what must happen upon the change of our present state according to its very good laws, is not a change, but destruction of being? Is it not, in short, to say, that what is well conducted as a first part, is for that reason not to be looked upon as a well conducted first part, but as a bad whole?

It is no objection again this reasoning, that death comes upon men at all ages.II. We cannot suppose death to be a transition to another state, but the same pains and other circumstances which now attend it, must likewise accompany it on that supposition: since they are the necessary effects of our bodily constitution, and the<252> laws of matter and motion. But it is most consonant to the nature of our moral powers, and to the provision made for their improvement here, to suppose it not a dissolution of our whole frame, but merely of our bodily part, and a transition into another state; and therefore the presumption must be that it is such. Some may imagine that there would not be so much ground for doubting about our future existence, if all mankind lived till their constitutions were quite worn out in old age, and none were destroyed violently.For as this is the necessary effect of good laws, so it may be requisite to general good in a future state. But what tho’ some die in infancy, others in their prime? What tho’ death comes upon men at all ages; since it always happens in consequence of laws of matter and motion necessary to many excellent purposes in our present state; and nature may have adjusted the state into which men pass from this, at whatever period of life, or with whatever temperature of mind, so as that a future life shall make with this a very regular, consistent and well adjusted whole; a compleat drama, as some of the ancients have not improperly expressed it. The only question is, Whether there is not good reason to think so from the present state of things, and no just reason to fear the contrary? Whether our being does not begin in such a manner as forebodes an orderly and proper progress instead of sudden destruction? Upon supposition that this is not the whole of our being, but that there is a future state; or, (to speak more agreeably to what our moral being presages) upon supposition that we are immortal, it is easy on that hypothesis to conceive how mankind’s entering upon a future state, at various ages, may contribute to the happiness, variety and general good of a future state. But death, however it happens, is the effect of the steady operation of the laws of the material system, which are found to be every way well adjusted to it; and it is not inconvenient, but rather necessary to the general well-being of mankind in this state. For which reasons, unless it could be proved that this phenomenon<253> cannot possibly contribute otherwise than to disorder in a future state, it cannot be any ground for calling the good government of the world into question, or of fears with regard to futurity.

To imagine that we are destroyed at death, is to think worse of the Author of nature than we can of any rational creature.III. In fine, if it be true, as I think it hath been sufficiently proved, that man is made in this state (whether it be his only one or not) for progress in virtue; for governing his sensible appetites by reason and a moral sense, and for the generous pursuit of public good; and that all the parts of his frame concur to fit him for that end, push him to pursue it, or afford him means of pursuing it; and consequently of exerting great virtues: if this be true, then there can be no more reason to apprehend that the Author of such a frame and constitution of things, only designed man to make progress in it for a short time, and after that to cease by being destroyed, than there is reason to imagine that he would have made us for moral perfection, and for happiness by so doing, if he had no pleasure in moral creatures and their virtuous improvements and happiness. And sure no other reason could have induced our Author to indue us with reason and a moral sense, but satisfaction in the improvement and happiness of moral beings. But such a motive could never have determined him to set such narrow bounds to our moral improvements, by allowing such a short duration to our existence, as is the case on supposition that we perish with our bodies. Why should we conceive so of our Author; since hardly is there any one among us that would do so, or any thing like it, had we any power analogous to his? For can there be among men goodness surpassing that of the universal parent; benevolence excelling his, who made us capable of forming the idea of benevolence, and delighting in it. We may here apply what the Poet says on another occasion, and ask,

• Heus age, responde, minimum est quod scire laboro,
• De Jove quid sentis? est ne, ut praeponere cures<254>
• Hunc cuinam? cuinam? vis staio? an scilicet haeres?
• Quis potior judex, puerisve quis optior orbis?

• Pers. Sat. 2.85

The greater good of the whole cannot make it necessary.IV. It is true, every part of a whole must be submitted to the greater good of that whole. But what reason can we have to imagine, that the greater good of the whole creation to which we belong as a part, can require our destruction after we have existed for some short time; since we may exist, when our relation to this material world no longer subsists? Hardly will any one say, that there may not be room for us, after the destruction of our bodies, in immense space. And certainly the greater good of intelligent beings, in the sum of things, cannot require the annihilation of any particular species capable of moral or intellectual happiness and perfection. The fewer species there are in nature capable of moral happiness, the smaller quantity of capacity for happiness, and consequently of happiness itself, there must be in nature: that is, the less perfect must nature be: but if the greater good of the whole cannot make it necessary that there should be less good in the whole than may be, it can never make it necessary that mankind, capable of existing in another state, should be annihilated. Can the good of intelligent beings demand, that man should be made for acquiring virtue, to improve in many excellent qualifications, and that only that he might cease to be when he is considerably improved? And yet this is the fate of all men, who have given due pains to add virtue to virtue, and to advance in wisdom and goodness, if men perish with their bodies. What can the greatest good of intelligent beings, or of beings in general, mean, but the greatest aggregate or sum of happy beings?’Tis in vain to say, that we who know but a small part cannot judge of the whole. And can the greatest sum of happy beings require that there should be a quantity of happiness wanting which may exist? To assert this, is really the same absurdity as to say, that four is not a greater number than two. ’Tis in vain to say, that if nature had intended the greatest aggregate<255> of good which could exist, there would be no degree of pain or misery in nature:For we are able clearly to determine several truths: For with respect to physical evils or pains, they are the effects of good laws whose uniform operation is absolutely good. And with regard to the greatest aggregate of moral good or happiness which could exist, all that can be done consistently with the very nature and kind of it, was to produce the greatest aggregate that could be of the capacity of it; since moral happiness must, according to its very notion, be a moral progress, a moral acquisition, or the result of the right use moral beings make of their moral powers.

as, that the world must be governed by general laws.V. It is likewise to no purpose to say, we who know but a part, cannot reason about what the greatest good of the whole may or may not require: For tho’ it be very true, that we know but a small part of the immense system of nature, and that our faculties are very narrow, compared with that vast object; yet our knowledge must certainly extend as far as we have clear and distinct ideas, and are able to perceive clearly their agreements and disagreements. And we may form the ideas of a whole, and of universal order and good from the consideration of any part of nature: every part, as for instance, every vegetable, or every animal, being itself a particular whole, tho’ a part of a larger system: or we may form these ideas from the consideration of any machine of human invention: and so soon as we attend to these ideas of whole and universal good, we clearly perceive, 1. That all the interests of intelligent beings require that nature should operate according to general fixed laws; and there cannot be beauty, regularity and perfection in a whole, without the observance of general laws in the disposition, oeconomy and operations of the whole. The very notion of a whole, includes in it an aptitude of parts to a principal end, a fixed design, and regular fixed means operating towards that design in the simplest and steddiest way. In like manner may <256> we conclude concerning a whole of intelligent beings. 2.That no effects of general good laws are evil. That no effects of the general laws necessary to their good are evil with regard to the whole, since all the inconveniencies of the uniformity of such laws are fully compensated by the particular advantages which result from them, together with the general advantages redounding from the universality and uninterrupted operation of laws. 3. That a whole cannot be perfect, if any greater, quantity of happiness could take place in it. In like manner may we conclude, that something must be wanting to the perfection of a whole of intelligent beings, if any additional quantity of happiness could take place in it. 4. In like manner may we conclude, that a whole, consisting of a variety of moral beings, the happiness of whom is made dependent on themselves, or to be acquired by themselves, is a more perfect whole, than one consisting merely of perceiving beings in capable of reflexion, willing, chusing, approving, disapproving affections and actions; or, in a word, who have no dominion, power or sphere of activity.That the good of a moral system ought to be preferred to the good of an inanimate system. All these, and many other such general conclusions may be as certainly laid down as any conclusions whatsoever in any science: they are plain corrolaries from the very idea or definition of a whole, and of general perfection and good. Good must mean the good of some perceiving being; and if one perceiving being may be of a higher order than another, (as very different orders, classes and ranks may be conceived) then is moral perfection, or the capacity of attaining to moral perfection, higher than merely perceptive power, that is, meer capacity of receiving sensations. And if so, the greater quantity of happiness producible, must mean no more, than the greatest quantity of capacity for moral happiness.

VI. Nay, tho’ we are not able to comprehend the whole of nature, there are yet more particular inferences which we may deduce with as great certainty as these general ones concerning the perfection and<257> good of a whole, with reference to our existence after the dissolution of our bodies. 1. It is only the due care of moral beings that can make a perfect whole; for they are the chief beings in rank and dignity; or their happiness is the object of the greatest importance, the greater good. And therefore it is not consistent with good order, not only to suppose the laws of matter not subservient to them, since matter itself is incapable of happiness or enjoyment; but it is likewise so, to suppose the greater quantity of moral happiness to be lessened to make room for, or give place to a quantity of merely perceptive enjoyment. 2.The greater happiness of moral beings cannot require the destruction of moral powers. The happiness of moral beings, their moral instruction, or their encouragement to the improvement of their moral powers, cannot require that any moral being, who in their first state have made good improvements, or have laid themselves out with all sincerity and constancy to make progress towards moral perfection, should so soonas they have done so be destroyed. 3.Or discouragement of virtue in a future state. Far less can any of these ends require, that they should be moved into another state, in which improvement shall be under very great discouragements and disadvantages, and where moral beings who have made considerable improvements shall have less occasions and means of improving in moral qualifications, than in their beginning state. These ends cannot require, that virtue should be necessarily pushed backwards, forced into decline, or deprived of all opportunities of advancing. Nothing can be more repugnant to the idea of a good governor, and of the pursuit of general good, and of a perfect whole, than such administration. 4.Far less the absolute misery of virtue. Far less still can these ends require, that beings furnished, prompted and encouraged, as we are in this state by our make and frame to make progress in virtue, should, after having taken due pains to attain to a certain degree of it, be banished into a state absolutely contrived for the suffering and misery of such moral beings. 5.The general good must make it necessary that tried and improved virtue be promoted. Not only<258> are such propositions diametrically opposite to the notion of a good and perfect whole, and of a wise and perfect governor; but from the very idea of a perfect whole of moral beings, it necessarily follows, that beings who have suffered in their first state by their steady adherence to virtue in spite of all opposition through the vices of others, must have reparation made to them; that is, be placed in such happy circumstances for the exercise and improvement of their virtue, as shall make their reflexion upon their past struggles and sufferings for virtue’s sake exceedingly delightful to them, and greatly contribute to stir them up to redoubled zeal to make higher improvements suitable to so generous a recompense from the governor of the world, by placing them in happier circumstances of improvement. In general, we may conclude, that if the greatest good and perfection of moral beings be intended and pursued, the happy connexions which now take place, in consequence of which virtue is the highest enjoyment or moral perfection, is the greatest happiness, shall not be changed for the worse, or to the disadvantage of moral perfection; nor those which tend to make every degree of vice its own punishment, give place to others, which shall absolutely invite and encourage to vice, and discourage virtuous exercises and improvements.It cannot require that the present connexions of things should be changed in favour of vice. We annot indeed imagine, that moral beings cease to be agents, or are laid even by way of punishment under a fatal, physical necessity of being irreclaimable; that they can be made utterly incapable of reflexion and reformation, or be tied to vice by any other fetters, besides those arising from habit, which hold the wicked so fast intangled. But then there is no reason to think, that their bad contracted habits will not adhere closly to them, and greatly torment them, all the means and objects of their gratification being removed: much less that there will be such a change in a future state in favour of vice, that it shall not so much as suffer in any way<259> analogous to what it suffers here, by being its own tormenter and punisher: but that it shall immediately become happier than it now is or can be; whilst the hatred of it is quite inextinguishable in our minds.

In one word, if we are made for virtue, and so to be happy by attaining to it here to as high a degree of perfection as is consistent with a first state; then to apprehend any succeeding state, in which all the present constitutions in favour of virtue, and the discouragements of vice shall be reversed, is contrary to analogy, to probability, and, in one word, to all our methods of reasoning about beings and things. It is to conclude from wise and good administration, that very bad government shall succeed: it is to infer malice from goodness: it is to deduce grounds of distrust and fear from the plainest symptoms of sincere kindness and good-will.

All these reasonings about futurity must hold good, if in the present state, things are so far constituted in favour of virtue and moral perfection, that there is reason to conclude our Maker and Governor sincerely loves and delights in our moral improvements. Were there not indeed manifest tokens in the present oeconomy and government of our Author with relation to us, and to all beings within our observation, of due regard to virtue; suitable care of its education, improvement and happiness, then truly might we with reason dread a succession of worse government, and fear this were but the prelude to complete misery: but if from what hath been said of human nature, it plainly appears, that while due care is taken of inferior beings in our system, suitable provision is also made for us who are capable of very high moral attainments; that is, for our improvement in many noble moral qualifications, in so much that all the laws of the material system, to which we are subjected by our union with a sensible world, are admirably conducive to our moral improvement and moral happiness; then may we justly not only hope<260> well concerning futurity, but rest satisfied that such an excellent first state of mankind shall be succeeded not by a worse, but by a better with respect to virtue and moral perfection; that is, one suited to tried and proved beings. To apprehend the contrary, would be to fear where there is the best foundation for comfortable expectation. It would be to think worse of the Author of nature than we can think of any man, who has any degree of goodness, any sparks of wisdom, or any benevolence in his constitution. For can he be called good among men, nay, or any thing else than the cruelest of tyrants, who would exercise his power in the manner such suppositions make the Author of nature, and of all the goodness men are capable of, to act with regard to his moral creatures?

The only objections against the preceeding train of argument I can foresee, which deserve our attention, are these two following ones.

Objection I.I. It may be said, that almost all the knowledge we can acquire here, is such knowledge of the material world, and of our present connexions with it, as can only qualify us for living in this state, or in one very similar and analogous to it: It can be of no use to us in one quite new, or absolutely different from this present condition of mankind. How can our present state be considered as a school to form and fit us for another succeeding one, unless we can attain here to such knowledge of our future life as may prepare us for it? For without such instruction, whatever other knowledge we may acquire, we must be as great novices at our entrance on a future state, and as much to begin to learn then how to act or behave ourselves, as we are when we enter upon this present stage. How can that be called a school for a state, in which we cannot possibly acquire any notion of its constitution and laws, or be any way made acquainted with it, but to which we must needs go<261> as much at a loss about every connexion and law in it, as if we had had no schooling at all? But what can we know here of our future condition? All we can learn here hath only relation to this state, and is hardly sufficient for our direction in it.

This objection appears at first sight not unplausible. But it will soon evanish when we consider,

Answer.I. That those powers which, at our entrance upon life, are and must necessarily be but in embrio, rude and shapeless as it were, or quite unformed, may be made very vigorous and perfect here by proper exercise and culture; so as to become fit to be employed about any objects of knowledge of whatever kind, or however different from those which make the present materials of our study and speculation. Insomuch that this state may as properly be said to be a school for forming and perfectionating our rational powers, in order to their being prepared and fitted for exercise about higher objects in a succeeding state; as the first part of our education here is called a school for life, or to prepare us for the affairs of the world and manhood, which are objects far above our reach, till our understanding by proper gradual exercise and employment is considerably ripened, or enlarged and strengthened, which is the proper business of liberal education.

II. But not only is it true, that our understanding may be sharpened, invigorated and improved in this state by suitable culture, so as to be rendered fit for progress in knowledge in an after-life, which rational powers cannot be but in a gradual progressive manner, in consequence of due exercise and culture: But which is more, the knowledge and virtue; or, in one word, the moral perfection of whatever sort we acquire here, can never be lost labour, or be useless to us, however foreign to the present<262> state of mankind any other we go into may be. For, 1. Imagination and memory may retain the idea of the present world, and all the knowledge we have acquired of it, so as to be able to compare the new one with it; as a person, who happens to lose his sight after he had attained to a very considerable acquaintance with the visible world, may always retain that knowledge, of which there are many examples. 2. No state into which moral beings can be supposed to pass, can be absolutely, or in all respects so disanalogous to that from which they go into it, but the knowledge of their own powers, or of the fabrick and constitution of their mind; and all the knowledge of moral powers which analogy can lead us to, must be in several regards of very important use to them. Every state of moral beings must be in many respects analogous to every other state of moral beings; because moral beings, however different they may be from one another, must in several respects bear an analogy or likeness one to another. And as that must be true in general of all moral beings; so must it likewise be true, that every new progressive state of the same moral beings must bear a very particular analogy or likeness to the state immediately preceeding it: Therefore, as much knowledge of the common properties, relations and laws relative to all moral beings, and all moral endowments; and as thorough a knowledge of ourselves in particular; that is, as extensive a moral knowledge as we can attain to in this state, must be of very great consequence to us upon our entrance into any new one, however different it may be from the present. 3. Tho’, in progress of time, all memory of our present state should be entirely lost or quite effaced; yet beings who have made progress in knowledge, and understand what enquiry into the nature of things means, and how such researches ought to be carried on and pursued, must be so far past schooling, that they shall no more need to learn<263> or be instructed in that art, which however is not only the first and most essential, but the most difficult part of knowledge; without which indeed no progress can be made, and which being acquired, progress is very easy and rather pleasure than toil. This done, the science of advancing in knowledge is mastered, the nature of truth and knowledge is understood; and that being over, the mind is so far very well fitted and prepared for any state, and can never again be such an infant or novice in any state of moral powers, as it must necessarily be at its first existence, before any notion of knowledge, or of the methods and arts of acquiring it is formed; and while its powers are quite weak and uncultivated as moral powers must needs be till they are unfolded and perfected by use and culture. All this will be yet clearer if we reflect, 4. How much is over when beings have learned to reduce appearances to general laws, and to look out for harmonies, analogies and agreements of effects; and are, by practice in induction, become masters of that only way of reasoning by which real knowledge can be attained. For they are thus prepared for unravelling any appearances, and for tracing them to their sources and causes, or general laws; and so are fit for studying any system in order to get the knowledge of its constitution and laws. Into whatever state one may pass, it must certainly be a very high and advantageous preparation for it, to be able to know how to go to work to get real knowledge and to avoid error; to have distinct ideas of general order, beauty and good, and of government by universal laws. Now so far may all advance in this state, who will give due diligence to improve their understanding and reason in the search of nature. 5. Besides, it is evident, that into whatever state one enters, the knowledge of number and proportion must always be of use, since these are properties or relations which must belong to all objects, and to all states. 6. And as for the<264> knowledge of moral duties resulting from moral relations, that science, which of all others is the most becoming moral beings, and ought to be their chief study, it must be of perpetual and unchangeable use. The present virtues and vices must remain essentially the same in every state. Benevolence in all its branches must endure for ever. And what else are all the virtues but acts of generous affection? New relations will produce new obligations and duties; but the nature of moral obligation being well understood, new relations can no sooner present themselves to a mind so well qualified, but the duties resulting from them must immediately be discovered and perceived. 7. And, in the last place, as for the dominion over ourselves, and the inward liberty and power, and all the good habits which may be formed and acquired here by the assiduous study and practice of virtue, to attain to which is our principal business in this our first state, these being once acquired or established, that important work is over; that part of education or schooling, so essential to the happiness of moral beings in whatever state they may be placed, is past; and being accomplished, it must produce its natural good fruits and effects. The happiness resulting from a well-formed mind, and highly improved virtue, cannot take place till virtue is brought by due culture to great maturity and perfection. That is as impossible as it is for any plant to come to its maturity otherwise than by gradual progress, and to yield its fruit before it is grown up to its fruitful state; but when the good seeds of virtue are ripened, then must its happy harvest naturally succeed; then must virtue have its full effect: we must sow before we reap; but as we sow, so shall we reap; such really the constitution of things with regard to us evidently appears to be. So that, in every proper sense, this present state may be called our school, or our state of education for a future state, however new that state may be to us at our first arrival into it: our state of formation,<265> discipline and culture, whether with regard to our understanding or our will; whether with regard to science or temper; knowledge or virtue; our rational faculties, or our appetites, affections and passions. But all that hath been said will be still more evident when we have considered the other objection, to which I therefore proceed.

Another objection.II. It is said, why is not virtue compleatly happy here, and vice, on the other hand, compleatly miserable? Or since it is not so, what reason have we to imagine a succeeding state shall not be of the same mixed kind, in which the vicious may have a great share of pleasure, and the virtuous a large share of uneasiness and suffering, and in which goods and evils shall be as promiscuously dispensed as they are here? If we reason from analogy, let us reason analogously, and not conclude a better state from this confused, promiscuous distribution of things, in which virtuous and vicious persons (to say no more) are not distinguished from one another by any remarkable dispensation of favours to the former, and punishments to the latter. For here do not all things happen alike or indifferently to all men? that is, are not external advantages and disadvantages administered either by no rule at all, or at least, in a way which virtue has but little reason to think particularly in her favour and interest?

Answer.Now in answer to this objection, which hath been often urged in various forms, let it be observed that, were not the present condition of mankind a very proper first state for forming and training up moral powers to great perfection, there would, indeed, be no reason at all to think well of the Author of nature, or to hope well concerning futurity. But, on the contrary, if it really appears to be a very proper first state for the education of our moral powers to a very high degree of perfection, then there must<266> be very good ground to entertain a good opinion of our Creator, and to expect such a state to succeed to this, as is proper to succeed to a state of education and discipline. The whole stress of our argument lies upon that.

Now that this present state is a very proper one for the education, exercise and culture of our moral powers, is manifest: For,

1. We have moral powers capable of improvement to great perfection; and this state affords us excellent means, occasions, subjects and materials for their exercise and culture, in order to their very high improvement. And all the laws relative to the growth and improvement, or the degeneracy and corruption of our moral powers are very suitable to the nature of moral powers, and their progressive formation and course, in general; and to our rank and situation, in particular: insomuch that all the goods and evils which happen to us in this life, may very properly be considered as fit means and occasions of improvement in virtue: not the evils only, but likewise the goods; for as adversity is necessary to form, exercise and improve certain virtues, so is prosperity, to exercise, form and improve other virtues: and in a state of trial, formation and culture, various means of exercise, trial and culture are absolutely necessary. Objectors against providence are apt to represent distresses and afflictions only as trials; but those who take a right view of moral powers, and of the natural progress of virtue to perfection, will consider prosperous circumstances in the same light, with regard to beings, whose first end is to be formed to virtue; that is, by means of trial. Nay, those who have thoroughly studied human nature, have not scrupled to pronounce ease and plenty to be a severer searcher, explorer, and prover of the human mind,a than<267> the more ordinary and tolerable vexations of human life . 2. And yet all the evils complained of in human life, which do not flow from the vices of mankind, and which ought therefore to be considered as its natural and proper bad consequences, it being of the nature of vice to do hurt or mischief: all other evils, I say, do either proceed from the constant operation of the general laws of the material world, which by their steady, unvaried operation, produce an excellent system, without the existence of which, while it can exist, nature would be incomplete and incoherent; an excellent system with respect to our moral powers, and their exercises and improvements, as well as with respect to the sensitive enjoyments it affords us. Or, 3. They are the effects of another most excellent general law; even that universal law of our nature, in consequence of which all moral and natural goods are our own acquisitions; namely, that our industry and application shall gain its end,a and that nothing internal or external shall be procured by us, but in proportion to our diligence to acquire it. For the goods of life which are said to be so unequally distributed, fall no otherwise in great abundance to any vicious person, than in consequence of that universal law, so essential to moral beings, and their powers, by which it is, that whatever we set ourselves to acquire is acquired. They fall to one’s share in the same way that the philosopher hath his beloved pleasure arising from large and extensive knowledge; and that the virtuous man acquires the treasure upon which his soul is solely bent, even a well regulated mind, and consciousness of merit in the eyes of every wise and good being. Good habits, (and all the virtues are such) are formed and established by our own industry to attain them. And if bad habits are acquired by those who set themselves to form them, it is because it is fit that general law should take<268> place with respect to the fruits of our industry and application, that as we sow, so shall we reap.86 Now it is in no other way that external goods fall to the share of any one. It is only because he sets his heart upon them, bestows all his thought, time and care about them, and leaves no stone unturned to procure them: and it is a proper general law, that our goods or evils should chiefly be of our own procurance, or of our own making, and that application should not be successless. 4. But when external goods are acquired in great redundance, they cannot give the true happiness of the rational mind. That can only proceed from improved virtue; and virtue, in order to be formed and improved, must likewise be earnestly contended for and sought after; or due pains must be taken to advance and raise it to perfection. How happily is all this, (which follows so clearly from the account that hath been given of our nature and frame in this Essay) expressed by our incomparable Poet.

• • “Whatever is, is right.”—This world, ’tis true,
  • Was made for Caesar,—but for Titus too:
  • And which more blest? who chain’d his country, say,
  • Or he, whose virtue sigh’d to lose a day?
  • “But sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
  • What then? is the reward of virtue, bread?
  • That, vice may merit; ’tis the price of toil:
  • The knave deserves it when he tills the soil,
  • The knave deserves it when he tempts the main,
  • When folly fights for Kings, or dives for gain,
  • The good man may be weak, be indolent,
  • Nor is his claim to plenty, but content.
• • What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy,
  • The soul’s calm sun-shine, and the heart-felt joy,
  • Is virtue’s prize.—
• • O Fool! to think, God hates the worthy mind,
  • The lover, and the love, of human kind,<269>
  • Whose life is healthful, and whose conscience clear;
  • Because he wants a thousand pounds a year!

• Essay on man, Epist. 4.87

Here is, in a few words, (in a short, clear, but most extensive reasoning) a full solution, to all who are able to pursue it in their thoughts throughout all its consequences, of all the objections brought against the present distribution of goods and evils; a full vindication of the ways of God to man. 5. But let it also be considered, that as education must precede perfection, and virtue cannot be formed but by degrees and in proportion to culture; so the fruits of improved virtue arising from its proper exercises, cannot take place till virtue is brought to its maturity. That is as impossible as it is in nature for harvest to precede seed-time and due husbandry. Virtue cannot yield the fruits and advantages of complete virtue, nor be fit for the exercises and employments from which its happiness must arise, till it is such. The good habits, whence the felicity is to arise, must first be formed or acquired before the happiness which can only result from their proper exercises can take place. The foundation must be laid before the superstructure can be raised. But proper exercises to form, school, discipline, try and improve moral powers, having the suitable degrees of enjoyment attending them as such, as properly or naturally prognosticate a harvest of virtue, a moral ripeness and its fruits, as such, to succeed to this state of moral culture, as seed-time and industry promise a harvest in the natural world. 6. And finally, as no state can be blamed in which the after-reaping is proportionable to, and of a kind with the sowing, or in which it is the general law of nature with respect to moral beings, that their future perfection and happiness shall be in proportion to the foundation they lay by their moral improvements: so, on the other hand, no happiness, but on the contrary, misery<270> alone can be looked for from the total corruption of the mind by vice, from confirmed evil habits and passions, especially after the external means of sensual gratification fail, or are quite removed from them; which is the case, so soon as our minds are divested of our bodies, and separated from a material world. If there be any essential or established differences between virtue and vice, or the improvement and abuse, the perfection and corruption of moral powers; the final effects of these must be as different or contrary, as the roots from which they proceed, are. But these two opposites cannot have their full effect till a certain time of culture, formation and probation is past; because a moral building must advance gradually, as well as a material one; or because a moral harvest requires as necessarily a progress towards it, as a natural one. We must either deny, that the proper adequate happiness of amoral being must be the result of his perfection, or of the high exercises for which greatly improved moral powers are qualified, which is absurdly to distinguish the proper happiness of a rational being from its proper perfection: Or, if we ask, why virtue is not compleatly happy while it is but in a state of formation; we really absurdly ask, why education must precede perfection. But if complete rational happiness must be the natural effect of highly improved virtue suitably placed and employed, what can be expected from a degenerated corrupted mind in a state far removed from all material objects, but the natural effects of disorderly passions, depraved habits, and the consciousness of deformity and guilt: a harvest of corruption and proportionable misery?

Thus therefore, in whatever light we consider our present state, there is good reason to think it our first state only, and a very proper one as our first state: our moral seed-time to which our after-harvest shall be proportioned. For this is evidently the law of nature with regard to us, That as we sow, so<271> we shall reap. The moral improvements, from which alone the happiness truly suited and proportioned to our moral frame can spring, must be acquired by due culture and exercise. They cannot have their complete and perfect effect till they are arrived to perfection: But a proper state for their education to perfection, plainly betokens a succeeding state, in which effects shall be congruous and proportionate to the culture passed through, and its fruits.

Let us only add to all this, that the hope or presentiment of future existence is natural to man: and whence else can this proceed, but from the care of our Maker, who will not disappoint any instinct, desire, or hope he hath implanted in his creatures? It is Heaven that points out an hereafter, and dictates eternity to mankind; ’tis Heaven hath inspired us with this pleasing hope, this longing after immortality, which is so noble a spur and excitement to virtuous labours and deeds. And search all nature throughout, and shew one instance, if you can, where it works in vain ; or merely to disappoint even bodily instincts, much less well governed rational affections and desires.

• What future bliss, he gives not thee to know,
• But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.
• Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
• Man never is, but always to be blest;
• The soul uneasy, and confin’d at home,
• Rests, and expatiates, in a life to come.

• Essay on man, Ep. 1.88

And again,

• For him alone, hope leads from gole to gole,
• And opens still, and opens, on his soul,
• ’Till lengthen’d on to faith, and unconfin’d,
• It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.
• He sees, why nature plants in man alone
• Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown?
• (Nature, whose dictates to no other kind
• Are giv’n in vain, but what they seek they find)<272>
• Wise is her present: she connects in this
• His greatest virtue with his greatest bliss.
• At once his own bright prospect to be blest,
• And strongest motive to assist the rest.

• Essay on man, Ep. 4.89

Conclusion.Man therefore is made for eternal progress in moral perfection proportionally to his care and diligence to improve in it. And with respect to death, we have reason to say with an excellent Ancient, “Eo itaque simus animo, ut horribilem illum diem aliis, nobis faustum putemus: Non enim temere, nec fortuito sati & creati sumus; sed profecto fuit quaedam vis quae generi consulerit humano: nec id gigneret, aut aleret, quod cum exanclavisset omneis labores, tum incideret in mortis malum sempiternum—portum potius paratum nobis & perfugium putemus.90

The End of the First Part.<273><274>

[19. ]Cicero, De legibus, I.v.16: “. . . for you must understand that in no other kind of discussion can one bring out so clearly what nature’s gifts to man are, what a wealth of most excellent possessions the human mind enjoys, what the purpose is, to strive after and accomplish which we have been born and placed in this world, what it is that unites men, and what natural fellowship there is among them. For it is only after all these things have been made clear that the origin of law and justice can be discovered.” Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928).

[20. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.35–40.

[a. ]Principles of human knowledge. [George Berkeley, A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge (1710, 1734). The quote is based mainly on A.151.]

[a. ]Here I multiply words, because all these are used promiscuously by philosophers. See the preface to Sir Isaac Newton’s Principia, by Rog. Cottes, and the Principia, Lib. 3. Regulae philosophandi. [Isaac Newton, Philosophiae naturalis principia mathematica. First published in 1687; the second and third editions (1713 and 1726) were produced with the assistance of Roger Cotes (1682–1716), who also wrote a preface. See Newton’s Philosophiae naturalis principia mathematica: The Third Edition (1726) with Variant Readings, ed. Alexandre Koyré and I. Bernard Cohen, 2 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972).]

[b. ]See Newton’s Principia, Lib. 3. Regulae philosophandi.

[a. ]See Sir Isaac Newton’s principia. Dr. John Clark’s sermons on the origin of evil. The characteristicks, &c.

[21. ]Francis Bacon, first Baron Verulam and Viscount St. Albans (1561–1626), English philosopher and statesman, whose works include The Advancement of Learning (1605) and Novum Organum (1620).

[a. ]See Sir Isaac Newton’s Opticks, l. 3. p. 345, and Plato’s Phaedon; where we see what Socrates thought natural philosophy ought to aim at, by what he says of the vanity of the natural philosophy of Anaxagoras. [Plato, Phaedo, 97C-99E.]

[a. ]How an enquiry into human nature or natural philosophy ought to be carried on, we learn from Cicero de Finibus. for tho’ in that treatise, different systems are represented and defended, yet it is unanimously agreed amongst all the interlocutors in these dialogues, that the natural end for which man is made, can only be inferred from the consideration of his natural faculties and dispositions as they make one whole; even as we can only know the nature of any animate or inanimate whole; of a vine, for instance, by enquiring into its structure or constitution. This point is argued in all these books at great length. See a fine description of moral philosophy in Persius Sat. 3.

• Discite, O miseri, & causas cognoscite rerum
• Quid sumus & quidnam victuri gignimur, ordo
• Quis datus, aut metu qua mollis flexus & unde:
• Quis modus argento, quid fas optare, quid asper
• Utile nummus habet; patriae carisque propinquis
• Quantum elargiri deceat: quam te deus esse
• Jussit, & humana qua parte locatus es in re.

[Persius, Satires, III.66–72: “Come and learn, o miserable souls, and be instructed in the causes of things: learn what we are, and for what sort of lives we were born; what place was assigned to us at the start; how to round the turning-post gently, and from what point to begin the turn; what limit should be placed on wealth; what prayers may rightfully be offered; what good there is in fresh-minted coin; how much should be spent on country and on your dear kin; what part God has ordered you to play, and at what point of the human commonwealth you have been stationed.” Juvenal and Persius, trans. G. G. Ramsay, rev. ed., Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1940).]

[22. ]In Greek legend, Proteus was the old man of the sea, who was given the gift of prophecy by the god Poseidon. Proteus assumed different shapes in order to escape prophesying.

[23. ]“Slothful arguments.”

[a. ]See Cicero de fato, Nec nos impediat illa ignava ratio quae dicitur, appellatur enim αργος λογος, cui si pareamus nihil agamus in vita, &c. So Plutarch de fato, Nam istae argutiunculae quae ignava ratio appellantur, revera fallaces sunt conclusiunculaeè disputatione de fato tractae. Where the same author observes, that Fate properly signifies, Leges quas de universi natura deus sanxit, animis immortalibus praesertim.—Legem appellari comitem naturae universi, secundum quam omnia quae fiant transiguntur.—Ipsum autem Fatum tale esse è natura ejus & appellatione constat. Heimarmene etiam dicitur quasi nexa & consertu lex & sanctio est, quia civili modo constitutum habet quid ex factis consequatur, &c. The ancient phrases to express the liberty of agents are, Liberum nobis esse, in nostra potestate esse, nobis parere, &c. For such actions could one be praised or blamed? [Cicero, De fato, xii.28: “Nor shall we for our part be hampered by what is called the ‘idle argument’—for one argument is named by the philosophers the Argos Logos because if we yielded to it we should live a life of absolute inaction.” Cicero, De oratore, Book III, De fato, Paradoxa Stoicorum, De partitione oratoria, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1942).

Plutarch, De fato: “For these inferences, which are called ‘idle talk,’ are indeed fallacious arguments arising from the dispute about fate” (574D-E). “Laws which God decreed regarding the nature of the universe and especially regarding immortal souls” (568C). “A law in harmony with the nature of the universe in accordance with which everything that transpires comes to be” (568D). “That fate is such a thing is clear from its nature and name. It is also called Heimarmene because it is bound fastened [the Greek eiromene, “unconcatenated”]. And it is a law and a decree because it has determined, as if by civil legislation, what should follow from what has already come to be” (570B). Plutarch, Omnia quae extant opera (Paris, 1624); the “ancient phrases” translate as “our being free to,” “to be in our power,” and “for us to bring about.”]

[a. ]More is said on this subject in the first Chapter, Law i. of power.

[a. ]See Arrianus and Simplicius on Epictetus. [Epictetus (fl. ca. ad 110), a Stoic philosopher, whose Discourses have come down to us in the transcript made by his pupil Arrian, or Flavius Arrianus. Arrian also compiled an Encheiridion (a handbook) of the teachings of Epictetus. Simplicius (sixth century ad) was a Neoplatonist who wrote commentaries on Epictetus and on the Categories, De anima, De caelo, and Physics of Aristotle.]

[a. ]See Cotte’s Preface to Sir Isaac Newton’s Principia, and the Principia, I. 3. Regulae philosophandi. Qui speculationum suarum fundamentum desumunt ab hypothesibus, etiam si deinde secundum leges mechanicas accuratissime procedant; fabulam quidem elegantem forte & venustam, fabulam tamen concinnare dicendi sunt.—Hypotheses non comminiscuntur, neque in physicam recipiunt nisiutquaestiones, de quarum veritate disputetur.—Jam illud concedi aequum est quod mathematicis rationibus colligetur & certissime demonstratur.—Certe contra tenorem experimentorum somnia temere, confingenda non sunt, nec a naturae analogia recedendum, &c. [Newton, Principia. The passages are from Cotes’s preface, par. 3, 4, and 11, and the Regulae philosophandi, regula III: “Those who take the foundation of their speculations from hypotheses, even if they then proceed most rigorously according to mechanical laws, are merely putting together a romance, elegant perhaps and charming, but nevertheless a romance. . . . They do not contrive hypotheses, nor do they admit them into natural science otherwise than as questions whose truth may be discussed. . . . Now, it is reasonable to accept something that can be found by mathematics and proved with the greatest certainty. . . . Certainly idle fancies ought not to be fabricated recklessly against the evidence of experiments, nor should we depart from the analogy of nature.” Isaac Newton, The Principia: Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy: A New Translation, by I. Bernard Cohen and Anne Whitman (Berkeley and London: University of California Press, 1999).]

[24. ]Pope, Essay on Man, I.45–50.

[a. ]See the chapter on power in Mr. Locke’s Essay on human Understanding. [John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ed. Peter H. Nidditch (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975), bk. 2, ch. 21.]

[25. ]“Things in our power.”

[a. ]Some thing hath been said on this subject already in the Introduction. [Subject discussed above, pp. 48–49.]

[a. ]Mr. Locke on the conduct of the understanding. [John Locke, Of the Conduct of the Understanding, in Some Thoughts Concerning Education; and, Of the Conduct of the Understanding, ed. Ruth W. Grant and Nathan Tarcov (Indianapolis and Cambridge: Hackett, 1996), §3.]

[a. ]See an essay on vision, and a treatise concerning the principles of human knowledge, by the Bishop of Cloyd. [George Berkeley, An Essay Towards a New Theory of Vision (1709,1710, 1732); and A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge (1710, 1734).]

[a. ]See an Enquiry into the origine of our ideas of beauty, by Mr. Hutchinson, whose words I have here copied. [Francis Hutcheson, An Inquiry into the Original of Our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue, II.I.viii.]

[a ]See Dr. Butler’s (Bishop of Bristol) Analogy, & c. where probability is excellently discoursed of. See Cicero de inventione rhetorica, Lib. 1. probability erit narratio, si in ea videbuntur in esse ea, quae solent apparere in veritate.—Ac veri quidem similis ex his rationibus esse poterit, &c.—Necessarie demonstrantur, ea quae aliter ac dicuntur, nec fieri, nec probari possunt,—&c. [Joseph Butler, The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature (1736); Cicero, De inventione: “The narrative will be plausible if it seems to embody characteristics which are accustomed to appear in real life. . . . Verisimilitude can be secured by following these principles” (I.xxi.30). “. . . those things are proved irrefutably which cannot happen or be proved otherwise other than as stated, etc.” (I.xxix.44). Cicero, De inventione. . . ., trans. H. M. Hubbell, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1949).]

[a. ]See Plutarch de solertia animantium. [Pope, Essay on Man, III.169–98. These verses by Pope sum up the substance of Plutarch’s De solertia animantium (or animalium), but see especially 966B. Plutarch, Omnia quae extant opera, 2 vols. (Paris, 1624).]

[b. ]Artes vero innumerabilis repertae sunt, docente natura, quam imitata ratio, res ad vitam necessarias sollerter consecuta est. Ipsum autem hominem eadem natura non solum celeritate mentis ornavit; sed etiam sensus tanquam satellites attribuit & nuntios: & rerum plurimarum obscuras & necessarias intelligentias enudavit; quasi; fundamentum scientiae.—Cicero de legibus, Lib. 1. [Cicero, De legibus, I.viii-ix.26: “Moreover innumerable arts have been discovered through the teachings of Nature; for it is by a skilful imitation of her that reason has acquired the necessities of life. Nature has likewise not only equipped man himself with nimbleness of thought, but has also given him the senses, to be, as it were, his attendants and messengers; she has laid bare the obscure and none too [obvious] meanings of a great many things, to serve as the foundations of knowledge. . . .” Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928).]

[a. ]See Aristotle’s Poetics, cap. 4. Nam & imitari, innatum hominibus a pueris est; atque hac re differunt ipsi ab aliis animalibus, quod homo sit animal maxime aptum ad imitandum; primasque rerum perceptiones sibi ipsi faciat per imitationem, non magistrorum praeceptis, sed exemplis aliorum ductus: et gaudere omnes rebus imitatione expressis naturale est veluti picturis, sculpturis & similibus, &c. [Aristotle, Poetics, 1248B: “Imitation comes naturally to men from childhood, and in this they differ from other animals because man is an animal especially suited to imitating, and he forms for himself his first notions of things by imitation, led not by the precepts of his teachers but by the examples of others. And it is also natural for everyone to enjoy things that are imitations, such as pictures, sculptures and such like.”]

[a. ]See Cicero de officiis, Lib. 1. In primis que hominis est propria veri inquisitio, &c. Tantus est igitur innatus in nobis cognitionis amor & scientiae ut nemo dubitare possit, quin ad eas res hominum natura nullo emolumento invitata rapiatur. De finibus. Lib. 5. [Cicero, De officiis, I.iv.13: “Above all, the search after truth is peculiar to man, etc.” Cicero, De officiis, trans. Walter Miller, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1938). De finibus, V.xviii.48: “So great is our innate love of learning and of knowledge, that no one can doubt that man’s nature is strongly attracted to these things even without the lure of any profit.” Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1931).]

[a. ]See the essays on the pleasures of imagination, Spectator, Vol. 6. [The Spectator, nos. 411–21, 1712. The series of eleven papers “on the Pleasures of the Imagination” were written by Joseph Addison (1672–1719). The quote is from no. 412.]

[a. ]Habit is more fully considered afterwards in a particular chapter.

[26. ]Newton, Principia, Regulae philosophandi, regula 1: “What can be done by fewer means is done in vain by more” and “[nature] does nothing in vain.” Isaac Newton, The Principia: Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy: A New Translation, by I. Bernard Cohen and Anne Whitman (Berkeley and London: University of California Press, 1999).

[a. ]This maxim is well explained by Sir Isaac Newton, Natura superfluis causis non luxurat. All beauty natural or moral consists in this. See what Cicero says of our natural and moral sense of beauty, in the beginning of his first book of Offices; and compare it with several other passages, that in particular, Lib. 1. Cap. 28. where he treats of the Decorum at full length. See likewise what he says of the nimium & parum ad M. Brutum Orator N. 22. Ed. Schrivelii. See likewise Theages Pythagoreus, de virtutibus. Decorum autem est quod esse decet, id quod nec addi quicquam, nec demi postulat, quandoquidem, ipsum quod esse decet est: Indecori vero species duae sunt nimium & parum. Illud plus quam decet habet, hoc minus habet, &c. [Newton, Principia, Regulae philosophandi, regula I, “[Nature] does not indulge in the luxury of superfluous causes.”

Cicero, De officiis, I.iv.14; I.xxviii.98–99: “nimium and parum”—“too much” and “too little”; see Orator, xxii.73, in Cicero, Brutus . . ., Orator, trans. H. M. Hubbell, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1939).

Turnbull appears to have used Schrevel’s edition of Cicero; see Cicero, Opera Omnia, ed. Cornelis Schrevel, 4 vols. (Amsterdam, 1661).

Theages Pythagoreus, De virtutibus, in Gale, Opuscula, 690: “A right thing is as it should be, not needing anything to be added to it nor subtracted from it, since it is as it should be. Things that are not right are of two kinds, those that are excessive and those that are deficient. Something of the former kind has more than it should, something of the latter has less, etc.” All Turnbull’s Latin quotes from the Pythagoreans appear to be taken from Gale, ed., Opuscula mythologica, physica et ethica. Graece et Latine. . . . (Amsterdam, 1688).]

[27. ]The Spectator, no. 412, 1712.

[a. ]See the Spectators upon the pleasures of imagination, Vol. 6, where all these sources of pleasure are handled, novelty, beauty and greatness. See particularly what is there said of the last. By greatness, I do not only mean the bulk of any single object, but the largeness of a whole view, considered as one entire piece. Such are the prospects of an open champain country, a vast uncultivated desart, of huge heaps of mountains, high rocks and precipices, or a wide expanse of waters, where we are not struck with the novelty or beauty of the sight, but with that rude kind of magnificence, which appears in many of these stupendous works of nature. Our imagination loves to be filled with an object, or to grasp at any thing that is too big for its capacity. We are flung into a pleasing astonishment at such unbounded views, and feel a delightful stillness and amazement in the soul at the apprehensions of them. The mind of man naturally hates every thing that looks like a restraint upon it, and is apt to fancy itself under a sort of confinement, when the sight is pent up in a narrow compass, and shortened on every side by the neighbourhood of walls or mountains. On the contrary, a spacious horizon is an image of liberty, where the eye has room to range abroad, to expatiate at large on the immensity of its views, and to lose itself amidst the variety of objects that offer themselves to its observation. He illustrates this remark afterwards by examples from gardening,—from architecture. See what he says there of greatness of manner. In the second place we are to consider greatness of manner in architecture, which has such force upon the imagination, that a small building when it appears, shall give the mind nobler ideas than one of twenty times the bulk, where the manner is ordinary and little. Thus perhaps, a man would have been more astonished with the majestick air that appeared in one of Lysippus’sStatues of Alexander, though no bigger than the life, than he might have been with mount Atlas, had it been cut into the figure of the hero, according to the proposal of Phidias, with a river in one hand, and a city in the other. Let any one reflect on the disposition of mind he finds in himself, at his first entrance into the Pantheon at Rome, and how his imagination is filled with something great and amazing; and at the same time consider how little in proportion he is affected with the inside of a gothic cathedral, though it be five times larger than the other; which can arise from nothing else but the greatness of the manner in the one, and the meanness in the other.—See the observation he adds from Mr. Freart’s parallel of the ancient and modern architecture.—Compare with these observations what Longinus says de Sublimitate, Cap. 35. Naturam non humile nos quoddam, aut contemptum animal reputasse.—Sed invictum una simul & insuperabile mentibus nostris omnis magnae rei, & humanam conditionem excedentis, adeoque divinioris, ingeneravisse desiderium. Atque hinc fieri, ut humanae mentis contemplationi & conjectui ne totus quidam orbis sufficiat, sed ipsos saepenumero ambientis omnia caeli terminos immensa animi agitatione transcendat.—inde intelliget, cui nos rei nati simus. Itaque instinctu illo ducti naturae non exiles miramur rivulos, quamvis puro pellucidiores vitro & humanis magis apti sint usibus: verum conspectum vel Danubii vel Rheni resistimus attoniti; maxime omnium ad ipsius intuitum oceani. Ad eundem modum non igniculum aut flammulam, &c. [The Spectator, nos. 411–21, 1712. The first quote is from no. 412, the examples from gardening from no. 414, and the quote about architecture is from no. 415. The translation by John Evelyn of Roland Fréart’s Parallele de l’architecture antique et de la moderne (1650) was first published in 1664.

Longinus, De sublimitate, ch. 35: “that nature did not think we were lowly or contemptible animals, but implanted in our minds an invincible and at thesametime indomitable love of everything which is great, which exceeds the human condition and is more divine. And hence it is that the whole world is not sufficient for the contemplation and conjecture of the human mind, which, by a stirring of the soul, often rises beyond the very boundaries of the all-encompassing sky. The mind will thereby understand what it is for which we were born. And, led by an instinct implanted by nature, we do not admire the little streams, although their water is clear and they are more useful to human beings, but we stand in awe at the sight of the Danube or Rhine, and above all at the sight of the ocean. Nor likewise as regards the spark or little flame, etc.”]

[a. ]Jubet igitur Plato, sic ad somnum proficisci corporibus affectis, ut nihil sit quod errorem animis, perturbationemque afferat. Ex quo etiam Pythagoricis interdictum putatur, ne faba vescerentur, quod habet inflationem magnam is cibus, tranquilitati mentis, quaerentis vera contrariam.

Cicero de Divinat, Lib. I. No. 30.

• Omnia quae sensu volvuntur vota diurno,
• Pectore sopito reddit amica quies;
• Me quoque musarum studium sub nocte silenti,
• Artibus assuetis sollicitare solet.

[Cicero, De divinatione, I.xxx.62–63: “Now Plato’s advice to us is to set out for the land of dreams with bodies so prepared that no error or confusion may assail the soul. For this reason, it is thought, the Pythagoreans were forbidden to indulge in beans; for that food produces flatulence and induces a condition at war with a soul in search of truth.”

The four lines of verse are formed by stitching together Claudian, 27 (Panegyricus de Sexto Consulatu Honorii Augusti; Praefatio), lines 1–2 and 11–12. Lines 1–6 and 11–12 are cited as a unity by Addison as the motto of no. 463 of The Spectator, August 21, 1712. This may be Turnbull’s source. In Broughton’s Mottoes, the lines are translated as:

• What e’er Delights employ our waking Sense,
• The Same does fancy to our Dreams Dispence.
• My self so close to my gay Studies keep,
• That oft I am composing in my Sleep.
• Thomas Broughton, The Mottoes of the Spectators, Tatlers and Guardians, translated into English (London, 1735).]

[a. ]See my Lord Bacon’s works, his Essay on the advancement of learning; and his Novum organum. Milton’s Letter on education. Plato de republica, Page 533, 34, 39. Ed. Step. And my treatise on ancient painting, Chap. 1. [John Milton, “Of Education,” in Poems, &c upon Several Occasions, 2d ed. (London, 1673).]

[b. ]See Cicero de finibus, l. 5. de legibus. l. 1. Animalhoc providum, sagax, multiplex, acutum memor, plenum rationis, & consilii, quem vocamus hominem, praeclara quadam conditione a supremo Deo natum esse, &c. [Cicero, De legibus, I.vii.22:“. . . that animal which we call man, endowed with foresight and quick intelligence, complex, keen, possessing memory, full of reason and prudence, has been given a certain distinguished status by the supreme God who created him, etc.”]

[a. ]See Discourses on the origin of evil, natural and moral, by Dr. John Clark. [John Clarke, An Enquiry into the Cause and Origin of Evil (London, 1720). The whole book deals with this topic, but see especially p. 48.]

[28. ]Pope, Essay on Man, I.193–206.

[a. ]So Cicero de natura Deorum, Lib. 2. Ipse autem homo natus est ad mundum contemplandum & imitandum. Idem de senectute. Sed credo, Deos immortalis sparsisse animos in corpora humana, ut essent, qui terras tuerentur, quique caelestium ordinem contemplantes imitarentur eum vitae modo ac constantia.

Academ, Quest. Lib. 2. Est enim animorum ingeniorumque naturale quoddam quasi pabulum, consideratio, contemplatioque naturae, erigimur, altiores fieri videmur, humana despicimus, &c. [Cicero, De natura deorum, II.xiv.37: “. . . man himself however came into existence for the purpose of contemplating and imitating the world.” Cicero, De natura deorum, Academica, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1933). De senectute, xxi.77: “But I believe that the immortal gods implanted souls in human bodies so as to have beings who would care for the earth and who, while contemplating the celestial order, would imitate it in the moderation and consistency of their lives.” Cicero, De senectute, De amicitia, De divinatione, trans. William Armstead Falconer, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: Heinemann, 1923). Academica, II.xli.127: “For the study and observation of nature affords a sort of natural pasturage for the spirit and intellect; we are uplifted, we seem to become more exalted, we look down on what is human, etc.”]

[29. ]Cicero, De natura deorum, II.xiv.37: “[for the purpose] of contemplating and imitating the world.”

[a. ]So Cicero de nat. Deorum, Lib. 2. Ad hanc providentiam naturae tam diligentem tamque solertem adjungi multa possunt, equibus intelligatur, quantae res hominibus a Deo, quamque eximiae tributae sint, qui primum eos humo excitatos, celsos, & erectos constituit, ut Deorum cognitionem, coelum intuentes, capere possent. Sunt enim e terra homines non ut incolae, atque habitatores, sed quasi spectatores superarum rerum, atque caelestium, quarum spectaculum ad nullum aliud genus animantium pertinet. Sensus autem, interpretes, ac nuntii rerum, in capite; tanquam in arce, mirifice ad usus necessarios & facti & collocati sunt—Omnisque sensus hominum multo antecellit sensibus bestiarum. Primum enim oculi in iis artibus, quarum judicium est oculorum, in pictis, fictis, caelatisque formis, &c. [Cicero, De natura deorum: “Many further illustrations could be given of this wise and careful providence of nature, to illustrate the lavishness and splendour of the gifts bestowed by the gods on men. First, she has raised them from the ground to stand tall and upright, so that they might be able to behold the sky and so gain a knowledge of the gods. For men are sprung from the earth not as its inhabitants and denizens, but to be as it were the spectators of things supernal and heavenly, in the contemplation whereof no other species of animal participates. Next, the senses, posted in the citadel of the head as the reporters and messengers of the outer world, both in structure and position, are marvellously adapted to their necessary services” (II.lvi.140). “And all the senses of man far excel those of the lower animals. In the first place our eyes have a finer perception of many things in the arts which appeal to the sense of sight, painting, modelling and sculpture, etc.” (II.lviii.145).]

[a. ]So Cicero and all the ancient moralists. See Plutarch, in particular, de virtute morali. Plato sensit hominis animam non simplicem esse, aut eodem per omnia modo affectam: sed aliam ejus partem intelligentem esse ac ratiocinatricem qua hominem regi naturae sit conveniens: aliam quae variis motibus obnoxia, bruta, vaga, & incomposita, & suapte natura gubernante opus habeat—quando autem bruta pars contra rationem contendat—Statim animus quasi in duas partes dividitur & manifesta sit discordia. [Plutarch, De virtute morali: “Plato thought that the soul of man”(441E) “. . . is not simple, nor is affected in the same way by all things. Instead it has one part which is intelligent and rational by which it is natural that human beings be ruled, and it has another part, one in need of a ruler, a part subject to many impulses, and animal-like, inconstant and lacking orderliness” (442A). “But when the animal part is in contention with reason, the mind is as it were immediately divided into two parts and the discord is plain” (448D). Plutarch, Omnia quae extant opera, 2 vols. (Paris, 1624).]

[b. ]See Epictetus, Arrian and Simplicius. [See above, page 62, note a.]

[a. ]See Hutcheson on the conduct of the passions, and Dr. J. Clark on the origine of evil. [The quote is from Francis Hutcheson, An Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. . . . (1728); ed. Aaron Garrett (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2002), I.VI.iii.]

[a. ]See Dr. J. Clark on the origine of evil. [Clarke, Origin of Evil, 258–59.]

[30. ]Solutio continui—the separation from each other of normally contiguous parts. See Bacon’s essay “Of unity in religion” in his Essays, which may be Turnbull’s source for the phrase. Sir Francis Bacon: The Essayes or Counsels, Civill and Morall, ed. M. Kiernan (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986).

[31. ]Hutcheson, Passions. This is a close paraphrase of passages in I.II.vi.

[32. ]“An excellent philosopher” is Hutcheson. The passage is a paraphrase from Passions, I.II.vi.

[a. ]See Hutcheson, on the conduct of the passions, in whose words I have given this observation. [The passage footnoted is a paraphrase of Hutcheson, Passions, I.VI.iii.]

[a. ]See what is further said on this Subject, in the Chapter on the association of ideas. [John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ed. Peter H. Nidditch (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975), bk. 2, ch. 33.]

[a. ]So Cicero de lege agraria, contra Rullum. Non ingenerantur hominibus mores tam a stirpe generis, ac seminis, quam ex iis rebus, quae ab ipsa natura loci, & a vitae consuetudine suppeditantur: quibus alimur, & vivimus. Carthaginienses, fraudulenti, & mendaces, non genere, sed natura loci, &c. See Barclaii satyricon, pars quarta, icones animorum, Charron sur la sagesse. And reflexions sur la poesie & la peinture, Part II. [Cicero, De lege agraria, II.xxxv.95: “It is not so much by blood and race that men’s characters are implanted in them as by those things which are supplied to us by nature itself to form our habits of life, by which we are nourished and live. The Carthaginians were given to fraud and lying, not so much by race as by the nature of their position, etc.” Cicero, The Speeches, . . . De lege agraria, trans. John Henry Freese, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1930).

The other references are to: John Barclay (1582–1621), Euphormionis Lusinini Satyricon (1605–7); Pierre Charron (1541–1603), De la sagesse (1601); and Abbé Jean-Baptiste Dubos (1670–1742), Réflexions critiques sur la poésie et sur la peinture (1719). All of these works appeared in many later editions.]

[a. ]See Hutcheson on the passions. [Hutcheson, Passions, I.II.vii.]

[a. ]See Plutarch de musica, & de educandis liberis. Plato de legibus & de republica, passim. See a fine passage to the same purpose, in Timaeus Locrus de anima mundi. Ad hos animi impetus, multum adjumenti adferunt corporis temperamenta, &c. See a fine passage to this purpose, in Cicero de Fato. Ed. schr. No. 5. Sed haec ex naturalibus causis vitia nasci possunt: extirpari autem & funditus tolli, ut is ipse, qui ad ea propensus fuerit a tantis vitiis avocetur, non est id positum in naturalibus causis, sed in voluntate, studio, disciplina, &c. [Timaeus Locrus, De anima mundi: “The temperaments of the body are a great help to the impulses of the mind.” In Gale, ed., Opuscula mythologica, physica et ethica. Graece et Latine. . . . (Amsterdam, 1688), 563.

Cicero, De fato, V.11: “But it is possible that these defects may be due to natural causes; but their eradication and entire removal, recalling the man himself from the serious vices to which he was inclined, does not rest with natural causes, but with will, effort, training, etc.” Cicero, De oratore, Book III, De fato, Paradoxa Stoicorum, De partitione oratoria, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1942).]

[33. ]“A binding of both worlds.”

[34. ]Pope, Essay on Man, 1.189–92.

[a. ]Thus, for instance, in the whole action of taking snuff, what is there that is active, besides the first will to take it, and the other intermingling volitions to move the hand, open the box, &c? The perception, uneasiness, itch, or whatever it is that excites the will to take it, and the moving the hand, opening the box, taking snuff between the fingers, putting it to the nose, drawing it up, and being irritated or pung’d by it; what is there in all these but mere sensation or passion? The whole effect, the volitions to take it, open the box, &c. excepted, is but a succession of passive sensations. And it is so with respect to every other active habit, because it is so with respect to every action. There is nothing in any one action besides volition, but sensation or impression. Volition is all that can be called active: and action therefore is nothing else but a train of ideas, subsequent to, or brought into existence by a series of volitions. But volitions are excited or moved by ideas: and therefore associations of ideas exciting volitions, are active habits.

[a. ]See Locke on the human understanding. The Chapter on the association of ideas. [Locke, Essay, bk. 2, ch. 33, §5.]

[a. ]See Hutcheson on the nature and conduct of the passions. [Hutcheson, Passions, I.iv.]

[35. ]Hutcheson, Passions, I.iv.

[a. ]See Epicteti enchiridion, and Arrian and Simplicius upon him, and Marcus Antoninus’s meditations, or self-conversation. This is the self-examination recommended to us even by the poets, as absolutely necessary to self-command, and true wisdom, or good conduct. So Horace, Lib. 1. Satyr. 4. And, again, Epist. 2. Lib. 2. Quocirca mecum loquor, &c. See Cicero, Tuscul. quest. Lib. 3. Est igitur causa omnis in opinione, nec vero aegritudinis solum, sed etiam reliquarum perturbationum, &c. [For Epictetus, see page 62, note a; for Marcus Antoninus, see The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, trans. A. S. L. Farquharson. . .(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989). Horace, Epistles, II.ii.45: “I talk thus to myself.” Horace, Satires, Epistles and Ars poetica, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1926). Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes, III.xi.24: “It is then wholly in an idea that we find the cause not merely indeed of distress but of all other disturbances as well, etc.” Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, trans. J. E. King, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1927).]

[a. ]Cicero de inventione rhetorica. De oratore, &c. There is a fine passage to the same purpose, in the Dissertationes incerti cujusdam pythagorei dorico sermone conscriptae. Published in a collection of Greek tracts, by Mr. Gale. Dissertation 5. An virtus & sapientia doceri possent. Sed optimum fuit, & in vitae commoda pulcherrimum inventum memoriae artificium, ad omnia utile.—Hoc autem in eo consistit, primo si animum admodum advertas.—Secundo si mediteris quaecunque audieris.—Tertio si rerum quas audis, imagines reponere noveris, &c. [There is a discussion of exercises for improving memory in Cicero, De oratore, II.350–67. Cicero, De oratore, Books I and II, trans. E. W. Sutton, completed by H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: Heinemann, 1942). Dissertationes incerti cuiusdam pythagorei dorico sermone conscriptae: “Can virtue and wisdom be taught? But the best thing was the art of memory, a very fine device that contributed to the conveniences of life and was useful for everything. The art consists in this, first you concentrate hard, secondly you think about what you’ve heard, and thirdly you try to form images of what you have been hearing about.” In Gale, ed., Opuscula mythologica, physica et ethica. Graece et Latine. . . . (Amsterdam, 1688), 731.]

[36. ]Quintilian, Institutio oratoria, I.xi.1: “Frequent imitation develops into habit.” Quintilian, The Orator’s Education, ed. and trans. Donald A. Russell, 5 vols., Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 2001).

[a. ]Plutarch de sanitate tuenda. [The passage is in Plutarch’s De sanitate tuenda, 123C; see also his De tranquillitate animi, 466F; and De exilio, 602B. Plutarch, Omnia quae extant opera, 2 vols. (Paris, 1624).]

[a. ]In the first chapter, upon our furniture for progress in knowledge.

[b. ]Dr. Butler (the Bishop of Bristol) upon analogy. [Joseph Butler, The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature (1736), I.V.ii.]

[a. ]So the ancients define liberty. Soli enim hi vivunt ut volunt, qui quid velle debeant didicerunt. Ineruditae autem & rationis expertes animi incitationes atque actiones exilem quandam ignobilemque voluntatis libertatem multa cum poenitentia conjunctam habent, &c. Plutarch de auditione libellus. So Cicero, paradox. 5. Quid est enim libertas? potestas vivendi ut velis. Quis igitur vivit, ut vult? nisi qui recta sequitur, qui officio gaudet, cui vivendi via considerata atque provisa est, &c. See a fine description of this moral freedom by Persius, Satyr. 5. Libertate opus est, &c. [Plutarch, De auditione, 37E: “For only those live as they wish who have learned what they ought to wish. But ignorant and irrational impulses and acts involve a rather meagre and ignoble freedom of will that is conjoined with a good deal of repenting.”

Cicero, Paradoxa Stoicorum, V.34: “For what is freedom? the power to live as you will. Who then lives as he wills except one who follows the things that are right, who delights in his duty, who has a well-considered path of life mapped out before him, etc.” Cicero, De oratore, Book III, De fato, Paradoxa Stoicorum, De partitione oratoria, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1942).

Persius, Satires, V.73: “What we want is true liberty, etc.” Juvenal and Persius, trans. G. G. Ramsay, rev. ed., Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1940).]

[37. ]Horace, Ars poetica, 25: “[We] deceive ourselves by semblance of truth.” Horace, Satires, Epistles and Ars poetica, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1926).

[a ]So Cicero defines it, in the beginning of the first book of his Offices. Homo autem quod est rationis particeps, per quam consequentia cernit, causas rerum videt, earumque praegressus, & quasi antecessiones non ignorat, similitudines comparat,& rebus presentibus adjungit, atque annectit futuras: facile totius vitae cursum videt, ad eamque degendam praeparat res necessarias, &c. So de legibus, l. 1. Etenim ratio qua una praestamus beluis, per quam conjectura valemus, argumentamur, refellimus, disserimus, conficimus aliquid, concludimus—quid est divinius, quae cum adolevit, atque perfecta est, nominatur rite sapientia, &c. [Cicero, De officiis, I.iv.11: “. . . while man—because he is endowed with reason, by which he comprehends the chain of consequences, perceives the causes of things, understands the relation of cause to effect and of effect to cause, draws analogies, and connects and associates the present and the future—easily surveys the course of his whole life and makes the necessary preparations for its conduct, etc.” Cicero, De officiis, trans. Walter Miller, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1938). De legibus: “. . . and indeed reason, which alone raises us above the level of the beasts and enables us to draw inferences, to prove and disprove, to discuss and solve problems, and to come to conclusions” (I.x.30).“But what is more divine than reason? And reason, when it is full grown and perfected, is rightly called wisdom” (I.vii.22-23). Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928).]

[38. ]Pope, Essay on Man, I.207–32.

[a. ]Eadem ratio habet in se quiddam amplum atque magnificum ad imperandum magis quam ad parendum accommodatum. Cicero de finibus, Lib. 2. No. 14. Duplex enim est vis animorum atque naturae: una pars in appetitu posita est, quae est ορμη graece, quae hominem huc & illuc rapit: altera in ratione, quae docet & explanat quid faciendum fugiendumque sit. Ita fit ut ratio praesit; appetitus vero obtemperet, &c. Cicero de officiis, Lib. 1. No. 28 and 29. [Cicero, De finibus, II.xiv.46: “Further, reason possesses an intrinsic element of dignity and grandeur, suited rather to require obedience than to render it.” Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1931). De officiis, I.xxviii.101: “Now we find that the essential activity of the spirit is twofold: one force is appetite (that is, ορμη, in Greek), which impels a man this way and that; the other is reason, which teaches and explains what should be done and what should be left undone. The result is that reason commands, appetite obeys, etc.”]

[a. ]See Mr. Hutcheson on the passions. [Francis Hutcheson, An Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. . . . (1728); ed. Aaron Garrett (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2002), II: Illustrations upon the Moral Sense.]

[b. ]Our sense of honour and shame supposes this faculty: such affections can only spring from it: they are absolutely unaccountable on any other hypotheses, because they cannot be resolved into any other principle.

[a. ]See Cicero epist. ad Atticum, l. 14. epist. Dolabellae Coss. suo. Nihil est enim, crede mihi virtute formosius, nihil pulchrius, nihil amabilius, &c. De finibus, l. 2. Et quoniam eadem natura cupiditatem ingenuit homini veri inveniendi.—His initiis inducti; omnia vera diligimus, id est, fidelia, simplicia, constantiâ: tum vana, falsa, fallentia odimus, ut fraudem perjuriam, malitiam, injuriam, &c. [Cicero, Letters to Friends, III.326 (IX.14).4, Cicero to Dolabella; also in Letters to Atticus, III.17a: “Nothing, believe me, is more beautiful, fair, and lovable than manly virtue, etc.” Cicero, Letters to Friends, ed. and trans. D. R. Shackleton Bailey, 3 vols. (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 2001); Letters to Atticus, trans. E. O. Winstedt, 3 vols. (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1912–18). De finibus, II.xiv.46: “Nature has also engendered in mankind the desire of contemplating truth. . . . This primary instinct leads us on to love all truth as such, that is, all that is trustworthy, simple and consistent, and to hate things insincere, false and deceptive, such as cheating, perjury, malice and injustice, etc.”]

[a. ]See Cicero’s offices, lib. 1. Nec vero illa parva naturae vis rationisque quod unum hoc animal sentit, quid sit ordo, quid sit quod deceat, in factis dictisque qui modus. Itaque eorum ipsorum quae adspectu sentiuntur, nullum aliud animal pulchritudinem, venustatem, convenientiam partium sentit; quam similitudinem natura, ratioque ab oculis ad animum transferens, multo etiam magis pulchritudinem; constantiam, ordinem in consiliis factisque conservandam putat, &c. So de finibus, lib. 2. No. 14. and de finibus, lib. 5. No. 17. Quid, in motu, & statu corporis nihilne est quod animadvertendum esse natura judicat? Quemadmodum quis ambulet, sedeat, qui ductus oris, qui vultus in quoque sit: nihilne est in rebus, quod dignum libero aut indignum esse putemus? Non odio dignos multos ducimus, qui quodam motu aut statu videntur naturae legem & modum contempsisse? Et quoniam haec deducuntur de corpore, quid est, cur non recte pulchritudo etiam ipsa propter se expetenda ducatur? Nam si pravitatem imminutionemque corporis, propter se fugiendam putamus, cur non etiam, & fortasse magis, propter se formae dignitatem sequamur—Quoniam enim natura suis omnibus partibus expleri vult hunc statum expetit, &c. See de legibus, lib. 1. numb. 19. An corporis pravitates, si erint perinsignes, habebunt aliquid offensionis, animi deformitas non habebit? Cujus turpitudo ex ipsis vitiis facillime percipi potest. Quid enim foedius avaritia, quid immanius libidine, quid contemptius timiditate, quid abjectius tarditate & stultitia dici potest, &c. [Cicero, De officiis, I.iv.14: “And it is no mean manifestation of Nature and Reason that man is the only animal that has a feeling for order, for propriety, for moderation in word and deed. And so no other animal has a sense of beauty, loveliness, harmony in the visible world; and Nature and Reason, extending the analogy of this from the world of sense to the world of spirit, find that beauty, consistency, order are far more to be maintained in thought and deed, etc.” De finibus, V.xvii.47: “Again, is there nothing in the movements and postures of the body which Nature herself judges to be of importance? A man’s mode of walking and sitting, his particular cast of features and expression—is there nothing in these things that we consider worthy or unworthy of a free man? Do we not often think people deserving of dislike, who by some movement or posture appear to have violated a law or principle of nature? And since people try to get rid of these defects of bearing, why should not even beauty have a good claim to be considered as desirable for its own sake? For if we think imperfection or mutilation of the body things to be avoided for their own sake, why should we not with equal or perhaps still greater reason pursue distinction of form for its own sake? . . . For since our nature aims at the full development of all its parts, she desires . . . that state of body, etc.” De legibus, I.xix.51: “Are bodily defects, if very conspicuous, to offend us, but not a deformity of character? And yet the baseness of this latter can easily be perceived from the very vices which result from it. For what can be thought of that is more loathsome than greed, what more inhuman than lust, what more contemptible than cowardice, what more degraded than stupidity and folly?”]

[a. ]See Aristotle’s Ars Poet. and Longinus. Archeveque de Cambray sur l’eloquence. La tragedie roulât sur deux passions: savoir la terreur, qui doivent donner les suites funestes du vice; & la compassion, qu’inspire la vertuée persecutée & patiente, &c. Dial. 1. [François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon, Archbishop of Cambrai, Dialogues sur l’éloquence (1718), I.19–20: “Tragedy runs on two passions; namely terror, which the dark outcome of vice must bring; and compassion, which is inspired by persecuted and long-suffering virtue.” (A.B., trans.)]

[a ]See Shaftsbury’s essay on virtue, whose words these are. [Shaftesbury, “Virtue” I.iii.1, in Characteristics, ed. Klein (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 178.]

[a. ]Nam ut vera & falsa, ut consequentia & contraria, sua sponte, non aliena judicantur: sic constans & perpetua vitae ratio, quae est virtus, itemque inconstantia, quod est vitium, sua natura probatur. Sed perturbat nos opinionum varietas, hominumque dissentio; & quia non idem contingit in sensibus, &c. Cicero de legibus. Lib. 1. No. 17. & deinceps. [Cicero, De legibus, I.xvii.45–47: “For just as truth and falsehood, the logical and illogical, are judged by themselves and not by anything else, so the steadfast and continuous use of reason in the conduct of life, which is virtue, and also inconstancy, which is vice, [are judged] by their own nature. . . . But we are confused by the variety of men’s beliefs and by their disagreements, and because this same variation is not found in the senses, etc.”]

[a. ]By Crouzaz, in his traite de beau. Hutcheson in his enquiry into the origine of beauty, and his illustrations on a moral sense. Shaftsbury in his characteristics. And Dr. Butler, Bishop of Bristol, in his admirable sermons. [Jean-Pierre de Crousaz, Traité du beau (1715); Joseph Butler, Fifteen Sermons (1726).

[a. ]Hutcheson in his illustrations on a moral sense. [Francis Hutcheson, An Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. . . . (1728), ed. Aaron Garrett (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2002), II: Illustrations upon the Moral Sense.]

[a. ]Δυναμις αγαθοειδης. Sensus decori & honesti, sensus veri ac pulchri, and sometimes, sensus communis. So Juvenal, Satyr 8. and Satyr 15. See Casaubon, Salmasius, Gataker. So Horace, Satyr 3. l. 16. See Lord Shaftsbury’s Characteristics, T. 1. Essay on the freedom of wit and humour. [Δυναμις αγαθοειδης, “a sense of what’s right”; Sensus decori & honesti —“the sense of the seemly and of the honest”; sensus veri ac pulchri — “a sense of the true and of the beautiful”; Juvenal, Satires, viii.73: sensus communis — “regard for others.” Juvenal and Persius, trans. G. G. Ramsay, rev. ed., Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1940).]

[a. ]

• Mille hominum species, & rerum discolor usus
• Velle suum cuique est, nec voto, vivitur uno.
• Persius

[Persius, Satires, V.52–53:

• Men are of a thousand kinds, and diverse are the colours of their lives.
• Each has his own desires; no two men offer the same prayers.]

[39. ]“All origins of action start from desire.” This seems to be a paraphrase of a sentence from Cicero, De finibus, I.xii.42.

[a. ]See the Characteristics, T. 3. and see Cicero de finibus. l. 1. and l. 2. At negat Epicurus (hoc enim vestrum lumen est) qui honeste non vivat, jucunde vivere posse. Quasi ego id curem, quid ille aiat aut neget. Illud quaero, quid ei, qui in voluptate summum bonum putet, consentaneum sit dicere, &c. [Shaftesbury, “The Moralists” II.i, in Characteristics, ed. Klein, 252; Cicero, De finibus, II.xxii.70: “But Epicurus, you will tell me (for this is your strong point), denies that anyone who does not live morally can live pleasantly. As if I cared what Epicurus says or denies! What I ask is, what is it consistent for a man to say who places the Chief Good in pleasure?”]

[40. ]Horace, Epistles, I.ii.55: “Pleasure bought with pain is harmful.” Horace, Satires, Epistles and Ars poetica, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1926).

[41. ]Juvenal, Satires, VIII.83: “to lose, for the sake of living, all that makes life worth having.”

[42. ]Horace, Epistles, I.xvi: “Whom does false honour delight, whom does lying calumny affright, save the man who is full of flaws and needs the doctor?” (39–41). “Yet this very man all his household and all his neighbours see to be foul within, though fair without, under his comely skin. If a slave were to say to me, ‘I never stole or ran away’ my reply would be, ‘You have your reward; you are not flogged.’ ‘I never killed anyone.’ ‘You’ll hang on no cross to feed crows.’ ‘I am good and honest.’ Our Sabine friend shakes his head and says, ‘No, no!’ For the wolf is wary and dreads the pit, the hawk the suspected snare, the pike the covered hook. The good hate vice because they love virtue; you will commit no crime because you dread punishment. Suppose there’s a hope of escaping detection; you will make no difference between sacred and profane” (44–54).

[43. ]Persius, Satires, II.73–74: “A heart rightly attuned towards God and man, a mind pure in its inner depth, and a soul steeped in nobleness and honour.”

[44. ]Ibid., III.38: “that he may look on virtue, and pine away because he has lost her.”

[45. ]Cicero, De legibus, I.31: “For what nation does not love friendliness, benignity, a gracious soul, and the memory of a kindly act? What nation does not despise and hate arrogant people, evildoers, cruel people and ungracious folk?” Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928).

[a. ]See Hutcheson on the passions. [This doctrine is dealt with throughout Hutcheson’s Passions, but see especially section I.]

[a. ]See Shaftsbury’s enquiry concerning virtue; whose words these are. [Shaftesbury, “Virtue” I.ii.3, in Characteristics, ed. Klein, 173.]

[b. ] Est quidem vero lex, recta ratio, naturae congruens, diffusa in omneis, constans, sempiterna, quae vocet ad officium jubendo, vetando a fraude deterreat, quae tamen neque probos frustra jubet, aut vetat, nec improbos jubendo aut vetando movet. Huic legi nec obrogari fas est, neque derogariex hac aliquid licet, neque tota abrogari potest. Nec vero, aut per senatum, aut per populum solvi hac lege possumus. Neque est quaerendus explanator, aut interpres ejus alius: nec erit alia lex Romae, alia Athenis, alia nunc, alia posthac: sed & omnes gentes, & omni tempore, una lex & sempiterna, & immortalis continebit; unusque erit communis quasi magister & imperator omnium deus ille, legis hujus inventor, disceptator, lator cui qui non parebit, ipse se fugiet, ac naturam hominis aspernabitur, atque hoc ipso luet paenas maximas etiamsi caetera supplicia, quae putantur, effugerit. Ciceronis frag. in Lactantio, Lib. VI. Cap. 8. [Lactantius, The Divine Institutes, bk. 6, ch. 8: “There is indeed a true law, right reason, congruent with nature, diffused among all, constant, lasting, which summons us to service by ordering us and deters us from deceit by prohibiting us, which however does not order or forbid worthy people in vain, nor motivates unworthy people by ordering or forbidding them. It is not right that anything of this law should be superseded, nor is it permissible that any of it should be modified. Nor indeed can we be released from it by either the senate or the people. Nor should anyone else be sought who would explain or interpret it. Nor will Rome have one law and Athens another, nor will there be one now and another later. Instead one law, everlasting and undying, will hold for all people and for all time. And one God will be as it were a common master and commander of all. He will be inventor, judge, and proposer of this law. Whoever will not submit to him will put himself to flight and will spurn his nature as a human being. He will thereby suffer the greatest penalty even if he escapes other punishments which are being considered.” (A.B., trans.)]

[a. ]See Plutarch de liberis educandis. Quod de artibus & scientiis dicere solemus, idem & de virtute pronunciandum est; scilicet ad ejus perfectionem tria concurrere oportere: naturam, rationem & assuefactionem. Natura enim si absque disciplina sit caeca est. Disciplina si a natura destituatur defecta: exercitatio, his duobus demptis imperfecta est. Et quemadmodum ad agriculturam, &c.—And therefore he adds, the moral virtues are very properly expressed in the Greek language by a word which signifies assuefactio ad virtutem.

Cicero de aegritudine lenienda. Tusc. quest. Lib. III. Sunt enim ingeniis nostris semina innata virtutum: quae si adolescere liceret ipsa nos ad beatam vitam natura perduceret. [Plutarch, De liberi seducandis, 2A-B:“We customarily say the same thing about virtue that we say about the arts and sciences, that is, that three things must come together if an action is to be perfect, namely nature, reason, and habit. For if nature lacks learning it is blind, and learning, if lacking what is natural, is imperfect. Just as with farming etc.” Plutarch, Omnia quae extant opera, 2 vols. (Paris, 1624). Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes, III.i.2: “The seeds of virtue are inborn in our dispositions and, if they were allowed to ripen, nature’s own hand would lead us on to happiness of life.” Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, trans. J. E. King, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1927).]

[a. ]See Hutcheson on the passions. [Hutcheson, Passions, II.iv.]

[a. ]This observation is taken from Cicero. See it explained by him at great length, de oratore, Lib. 3. No. 45. Edit. Schrevel. Sed ut in plerisque rebus incredibiliter hoc natura est ipsa fabricata: sic in oratione; ut ea quae maximam utilitatem in se continerent eadem haberent plurimum vel dignitatis, vel saepe etiam venustatis. Incolumitatis ac salutis, omnium causa videmus hunc statum esse totius mundi atque naturae—Referte nunc animum ad hominum vel etiam caeterorum animantium formam & figuram—linquamus naturam artesque videamus, &c. Compare this passage with what he says, Orat. ad Marc. Brutum, No. 22, 23, 24, 25. [Cicero, Deoratore, III.xlv.178-xlvi.180: “But in oratory as in most matters nature has contrived with incredible skill that the things possessing most utility also have the greatest amount of dignity, and indeed frequently of beauty also. We observe that for the safety and security of the universe this whole ordered world of nature is so constituted. . . . Now carry your mind to the form and figure of human beings or even of the other living creatures. . . . Let us leave nature and contemplate the arts, etc.” Cicero, De oratore, Book III, De fato, Paradoxa Stoicorum, De partitione oratoria, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1942).]

[46. ]“The useful is never separated from the true.”

[47. ]Appears as Natura nihil agit frustra—“Nature does nothing in vain” in Newton, Principia, Regulae philosophandi, regula 1. Isaac Newton, The Principia: Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy: A New Translation, by I. Bernard Cohen and Anne Whitman (Berkeley and London: University of California Press, 1999).

[a. ]This maxim is well explained by Sir Isaac Newton, in these words. “Superfluis causis non luxuriat.” See moral beauty explained by Cicero in several parts of his offices: some of the passages have been already quoted. See what is said of it in the Chapter of knowledge. It consists in the middle between the nimium and parum. There is a decorum belonging to every particular character, and therefore to every man; for every man has his distinguishing peculiar character. This is treated of at large by Cicero. But the decorum belonging to a virtuous affection or action, consists in its being duly proportioned to its end, neither too little, nor too much; analogously to what is called ease and grace, in dancing, in any other exercise, or in any art. All the phrases among the ancients, used to signify the beauty, harmony, and consistency of virtuous manners, are taken from the beauty of sensible forms in nature, or in the arts which imitate nature, music, painting, &c. Such as Numeros modosque vitae, est modus in rebus. Decorum, quid verumatque decens; and innumerable such others. So that here we have a clear proof of that analogy between the moral world or moral effects, and the natural world or sensible effects, without which language could not be a moral paintress, or paint moral sentiments, and affections and their effects. [Newton, Principia, Regulae philosophandi, regula I: “[Nature] does not indulge in the luxury of superfluous causes.” The phrase nimium et parum —“excess and defect”—appears in Cicero, De officiis, trans. Walter Miller, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1938), I.xxv.89. The following Latin phrases are all from Horace: Numeros modosque vitae—“the rhythms and measures of life” in Epistles, II.ii.144; est modus in rebus —“there is a measure in all things” in Satires, I.i.106; and Decorum, quid verumatque decens —“the correct is right and seemly” in Epistles, I.i.11.]

[48. ]Appears as frustra fit per plura quod fieri potest per pauciora —“more causes are in vain when fewer suffice” in Newton, Principia, Regulae philosophandi, regula 1.

[49. ]Horace, Ars poetica, 23: “In short, be the work what you will, let it at least be simple and uniform.” Horace, Satires, Epistles and Ars poetica, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1926).

[50. ]This passage seems to be a paraphrase of Shaftesbury, “Virtue” II.i.3, in Characteristics, ed. Klein, 196.

[51. ]Ibid., 195–96.

[52. ]Shaftesbury, from whom Turnbull is quoting, uses the word “primarily” here, not “presently”; see Characteristics, ed. Klein, 171.

[53. ]Shaftesbury, “Virtue” I.ii.2, in Characteristics, ed. Klein, 171.

[54. ]Ibid. I.ii.3, 172.

[55. ]Ibid., 173.

[56. ]Shaftesbury, “Virtue” II.i.3, in Characteristics, ed. Klein, 196.

[57. ]Ibid., 200.

[a. ]Etenim ratio—certe est communis, doctrina differens, discendi quidem facultate par, nam & sensibus eadem omnia comprehenduntur: & ea quae movent sensus, itidem movent omnium: quaeque in animis imprimuntur; de quibus ante dixi, inchoatae intelligentiae, similiter in omnibus imprimuntur; interpresque est mentis oratio, verbis discrepans, sententiis congruens. Nec est quisquam gentis ullius, qui ducem naturam nactus, ad virtutem pervenire non possit. Nec solum in rectis, sed etiam in pravitatibus insignis est humani generis similitudo. Nam & voluptate capiuntur omnes: quae etsi illecebra turpitudinis, tamen habet quiddam simile naturalis boni. Quae autem natio non comitatem non benignitatem, non gratum animum & beneficii memorem diligit, quae superbos quae maleficos, quae crudeles, quae ingratos non aspernatur? Quibus ex rebus cum omne genus hominum sociatum inter se esse intelligatur, illud extremum est quod recte vivendi ratio meliores efficit. Cicero de legibus, Lib. l. No. 11. [Cicero, De legibus, I.x.30-xi.32: “. . . and indeed reason . . . is certainly common to us all, and, though varying in what it learns, at least in the capacity to learn it is invariable. For the same things are invariably perceived by the senses, and those things which stimulate the senses, stimulate them in the same way in all men; and those rudimentary beginnings of intelligence to which I have referred, which are imprinted in our minds, are imprinted on all minds alike; and speech, the mind’s interpreter, though differing in the choice of words, agrees in the sentiments expressed. In fact, there is no human being of any race who, if he finds a guide, cannot attain to virtue. The similarity of the human race is clearly marked in its evil tendencies as well as in its goodness. For pleasure also attracts all men; and even though it is an enticement to vice, yet it has some likeness to what is naturally good. . . . But what nation does not love courtesy, kindliness, gratitude, and remembrance of favours bestowed? What people does not hate and despise the haughty, the wicked, the cruel, and the ungrateful? Inasmuch as these considerations prove to us that the whole human race is bound together in unity, it follows, finally, that knowledge of the principles of right living is what makes men better.”]

[58. ]Pope, Essay on Man, II.215–16.

[a. ]Cicero de officiis, l. 1. Compare with that de finibus, Lib. 2. N. 15. and 34. and de inventione rhetorica, Lib. 2. N. 53. where he defines all the virtues. So all the ancients. Virtus enim in cujusque rei natura supremum est & perfectio—tum oculi, in oculi natura, supremum & perfectio; tum hominis, in hominis natura, supremum & perfectio. Timaeus Locrus de anima mundi. So Metopus Pythagoreus, in libro de virtute. Hominis virtus, est hominis naturae perfectio—nam & equi virtus est ea, quae naturam ejus ad supremum perducit, &c. [Timaeus Locrus, De anima mundi. This is in fact in Hippodamus Thurius, De felicitate: “For virtue is the highest level and the perfection in the nature of everything. The highest level and the perfection of the eye is in the nature of the eye. The highest level and the perfection in a man is in the nature of a man.” In Gale, ed., Opuscula mythologica, physica et ethica. Graece et Latine. . . ., 660.

“The virtue of a man is the perfection of a man’s nature. And the virtue of a horse is that which draws its nature to the highest level, etc.” In Gale, Opuscula, 684–85.]

[a. ]See the second book of the offices, and the books de finibus, where virtue is proved to be happiness. And Tusc. quaest. De virtute seipsa contenta. De aegritudine lenienda, &c. [“De virtute seipsa” and “De aegritudine lenienda” refer to books 5 and 3, respectively, of Cicero’s Tusculanae disputationes.]

[59. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.185–88.

[a. ]That emphatical sentence of Homer hath the air of a proverb familiar in his time.

• Never, never, wicked man was wise.
• Odysse. B. 2. L. 320. of Pope’s trans.

[Homer, The Odyssey of Homer, trans. . . . (from the Greek) by Alexander Pope (Lon don: Richards, 1903), II.320.]

[a. ]Quod si etiam bestiae multa faciant duce suâ, quaeque natura, partim indulgenter, vel cum labore, ut in gignendo, in educando facile appareat, aliud quiddam iis propositum, non voluptatem?—Ergo in bestiis erunt secreta a voluptate humanarum quaedam simulacra virtutum: in ipsis hominibus nisi voluptatis causa virtus nulla erit?—Nos vero, si quidem in voluptate sunt omnia longe multumque superamur a bestiis:—Ad altiora quaedam, & magnificentiora mihi crede, Torquate, nati sumus: nec id ex animi solum partibus, in quibus inest memoria.—Tu autem etiam membra ipsa, sensusque considera: qui tibi ut reliquae corporis partes, non comites solum virtutum, sed ministri etiam videbuntur. Quid si in ipso corpore multa voluptati praeponenda sunt, ut vires, valetudo, velocitas, pulchritudo? Quid tandem in animis censes? De finibus, lib. 2.—Compare lib. 5. Atqui perspicuum est, hominem è corpore animoque constare, cum primae sint animi partes, secundae corporis, &c. [Cicero, De finibus, II.xxxiii.109-xxxiv.114: “But what if even animals are prompted by their several natures to do many actions conclusively proving that they have some other end in view than pleasure? . . . If animals therefore possess some semblance of the human virtues unconnected with pleasure, are men themselves to display no virtue except as a means to pleasure? . . . As a matter of fact if pleasure be all in all, the lower animals are far and away superior to ourselves. . . . No, Torquatus, believe me, we are born for loftier and more splendid purposes. Nor is this evidenced by the mental faculties alone, including as they doa memory. . . . But I would also have you consider our actual members, and our organs of sensation, which like the other parts of the body you for your part will esteem not as the comrades merely but actually as the servants of the virtues. But if even the body has many attributes of higher value than pleasure, such as strength, health, beauty, speed of foot, what pray think you of the mind?” Compare V.xii.34: “Now it is manifest that man consists of body and mind, although the mind plays the more important part and the body the less.” Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1931).]

[a. ]See Epictetus and his ancient commentators. See particularly M. Antoninus Philosophus. Atqui vide, ne cum omnes recti animi affectiones virtutes appellantur, non sit hoc proprium nomen omnium, sed ab ea, quae una ceteris antecellit, omnes nominatae sint. Appellata enim est ex viro virtus: viri autem propria maxime est fortitudo. Cujus munera duo sunt maxima,—mortis dolorisque contemtio. Utendum estigitur his, si virtutis compotis, vel potius si viri volumus esse, quoniam a viris virtus nomen est mutuata. Cicero Tuscul. Quaest. lib. 2. No. 18. [Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes, II.xviii.43: “And yet, perhaps, though all right-minded states are called virtue, the term is not appropriate to all virtues, but all have got the name from the single virtue which was found to outshine the rest, for it is from the word for ‘man’ that the word virtue is derived; but man’s peculiar virtue is fortitude, of which there are two main functions, namely scorn of death and scorn of pain. These then we must exercise if we wish to prove possessors of virtue, or rather, since the word for ‘virtue’ is borrowed from the word for ‘man,’ if we wish to be men.” Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, trans. J. E. King, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1927).]

[60. ]“Preeminence”—Cicero, De officiis, trans. Walter Miller, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1938), II.xix.66.

[a. ]We had occasion already to mention the natural greatness of our mind in speaking of knowledge. It is the desire of liberty and power, or the disposition of the mind, to expand and dilate itself and prove its force, which is the foundation of all the great arts, and of all the great virtues. Virtue is really pleasant, because it brings forth the strength of the mind into action, and makes the mind feel its own power to enlarge itself.

[a. ]This is Homer’s phrase speaking of a melancholy person, θυμον κατεδων. Ipse cor suum edens. See Cicero Tuscul. Quest. B. 3. from whence all these arguments are taken. See Horace’s Epistles, Lib. III. Epist. 2.

• Semper avarus eget ———
• Invidus alterius macrescit rebus opimis.

He uses the same phrase—Si quid est animum, &c. Therefore philosophy is called Medicina mentis. Cicero Tuscul. Quaest. Lib. III. Est profecto animi medicina philosophia. See a fine description of it in Plutarch de educandis liberis. See Horace Epist. Ep. 1. Sunt certa piacula, &c. [Homer, Iliad, 6.202: “Eating up the soul.” The phrase is used of Bellerephon in his anguish; Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes, III.xxvi.63: “Eating his heart out alone”; Horace, Epistles, I.ii.56–57: “The covetous is ever in want. . . . The envious man grows lean when his neighbour waxes fat”; ibid., I.ii.38-39: “if aught is eating into your soul, etc.” Horace, Satires, Epistles and Ars poetica, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1926). Medicina mentis —“medicine of the mind.” Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes, III.iii.6: “Assuredly there is an art of healing the soul—I mean philosophy.” Plutarch, De liberis educandis, 7D: “For the illnesses and affections of the mind philosophy alone is the remedy.” Plutarch, Omnia quae extant opera, 2 vols. (Paris, 1624). Horace, Epistles, I.i.36: “There are fixed charms, etc.”]

[61. ]Paraphrase of Prov. 23.5.

[a. ]See Cicero de senectute. —Sua enim vitia insipientes, & suam culpam in senectutem conferunt, &c. [Cicero, De senectute, v.14: “For, in truth, it is their own vices and their own faults that fools charge to old age, etc.”]

[62. ]Prov. 28.14.

[a. ]Praemia virtutis & officii, sancta & casta esse oportere: neque ea aut cum improbis communicari, aut in mediocribus hominibus pervulgari. Cicero de inven. rhetorica, Lib. II. [Cicero, De inventione, II.xxxix.114: “that the rewards for heroism and devotion to duty ought to be considered sacred and holy and should not be shared with inferior men nor made common by being bestowed on men of no distinction. . . .” Cicero, De inventione. . . ., trans. H. M. Hubbell, Loeb Classical Library (Lon don: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1949).]

[63. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.167–69.

[64. ]Ibid., IV.77–92.

[a. ]See Cicero de finibus, Lib. 2. No. 22. Nemo pius est qui pietatem metu capit, &c.—And, de legibus, Lib. 1. No. 14. Tum autem qui non ipso honesto movemur, ut boni viri simus sed, utilitate aliqua atque fructu, callidi sumus non boni, &c. [Cicero, De finibus, II.xxii.71: “None is good, whose love of goodness, etc.” De legibus, I.xiv.41: “furthermore, those of us who are not influenced by virtue itself to be good men, but by some consideration of utility and profit, are merely shrewd, not good.”]

[65. ]Shaftesbury, “Virtue” II.ii., conclusion, in Characteristics, ed. Klein (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 230.

[66. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.35–48.

[a. ]—Quae quidem omnia contingent, si quis remp. bene constitutam nanciscatur. Id quod quidem Amaltheae quod dicitur cornu voco. Etenim in recta legum constitutione sunt omnia; neque maximum naturae humanae bonum vel existere absque ea, vel comparatum & auctum permanere possit. Nam & virtutem & ad virtutem viam haec in se continet, quandoquidem in ea partim naturae bona procreantur, partim & mores, studia, leges optime se habent & recta ratio, pietas, sanctimonia, magnopere vigent. Quamobrem qui beatus futurus & feliciter victurus est, eum in bene constituta repub. & vivere necesse est & mori, &c. Hyppodamus Thurius Pythag. de felicitate. [Hippodamus Thurius, De felicitate: “All these things will happen if people hit upon a well-ordered city. And these things, I say, are what is called the horn of Amalthea. For everything depends upon good order and without it the greatest good of human nature cannot come into existence, nor can it endure if it does come into existence and grows. For good order includes within itself virtue and the road to virtue, since through good order in part the goods of nature are produced and in part so also are our customs. Our endeavors and laws are as good as they can be, and right reason, piety, and sanctity flourish magnificently. Hence someone who wishes to be happy and to live a successful life must live and die in a well-ordered city.” In Gale, ed., Opuscula mythologica, physica et ethica. Graece et Latine. . . . (Amsterdam, 1688), 662–63.]

[67. ]Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, ed. Richard Tuck (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), pt. 1, chs. 10–13.

[a. ]See the first Book of Cicero’s offices. Huic veri videndi cupiditati adjuncta est appetitio quaedam principatus, ut nemini parere animus bene a natura informatus velit, nisi praecipienti, aut docenti, aut utilitatis causa, juste & legitime imperanti: ex quo animi magnitudo existit, humanarumque rerum contemptio—Omnino fortis animus & magnus, duabus rebus maxime cernitur: quarum una in rerum externarum despicientia ponitur, cum persuasum sit, nihil hominem nisi quod honestum, decorumque sit, aut admirari, aut optare, aut expetere oportere: nullique neque homini, neque perturbationi animi nec fortunae succumbere. Altera est res, ut cum ita sis affectus animo, ut supra dixi, res geras magnas, illas quidem & maxime utiles, &c. [Cicero, De officiis: “To this passion for discovering truth there is added, as it were, a hungering for independence, so that a mind well-moulded by nature is unwilling to be subject to anybody save one who gives rules of conduct or is a teacher of truth or who, for the general good, rules according to justice and law. From this attitude come greatness of soul and a sense of superiority to worldly conditions” (I.iv.13). “The soul that is altogether courageous and great is marked above all by two characteristics: one of these is indifference to outward circumstances; for such a person cherishes the conviction that nothing but moral goodness and propriety deserves to be either admired or wished for or striven after, and that he ought not to be subject to any man or any passion or any accident of fortune. The second characteristic is that, when the soul is disciplined in the way above mentioned, one should do deeds not only great and in the highest degree useful, etc.” (I.xx.66). Cicero, De officiis, trans. Walter Miller, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1938).]

[68. ]Hobbes, Leviathan, pt. 1, ch. 13.

[69. ]This is a major theme of Longinus in his De sublimitate.

[a. ]See Mr. Hutcheson on the passions, whose words I here use. [Francis Hutcheson, An Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. . . . (1728); ed. Aaron Garrett (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2002), I.VI.iii.]

[a. ]In the second chapter.

[a. ]See Mr. Hutcheson on the passions. [This doctrine is dealt with throughout Hutcheson’s Passions, but see especially section I.III.]

[b. ]See Cicero, de legibus, lib. 1. And de officiis, lib. 1. No. 7. Sed quoniam ut praeclare scriptum est a platone non nobis—solum nati sumus—in hoc naturam debemus ducem sequi & communes utilitates in medium afferre, &c.—See how he refutes towards the end of this book those who held that we are not of a social make.[Cicero, De officiis, I.vii.22: “But since, as Plato has admirably expressed it, we are not born for ourselves alone . . . in this direction we ought to follow nature as our guide, to contribute to the general good, etc.”]

[a. ]Cicero often takes notice of the likeness among mankind to one another in their frame, whence it plainly appears that we are, as he expresses it, ad justitiam nati. Id jam patebit si hominum inter ipsos societatem conjunctionemque perspexeris. Nihil est unum uni tam simile, tam par quam omnes inter nosmet ipsos sumus, &c. De legibus, lib. 1. But see what he says of our personal differences. De officiis, lib. 1. n. 30. Intelligendum est etiam, duabus quasi nos a natura indutos esse personis, quarum una est communis—altera autem quae proprie singulis est tributa. Ut enim in corporibus magnae dissimilitudines—sic in ani mis existunt etiam majores varietates. He gives instances, and then (which no other moralist hath done) he explains the decorum belonging to every particular character. Admodum autem tenenda sunt sua cuique, non vitiosa sed propria quo facilius decorum illud quod quaerimus retineatur, sic enim faciendum, ut contra universam naturam non contendamus: ea tamen conservata, propriam naturam sequamur, &c. This lays a foundation for great variety of beauty in human life. Hence in poetry what is called decorum, as Cicero observes in the same place, or truth and consistency of characters, which makes so essential a part of poetical imitation. Let us imagine human society divested of this variety, and by consequence of the different duties and decorums arising from it, and we reduce society to a very uniform lifeless state.—See Homer’s Odyssey, B. 8. line 185. Pope’s Translation.

• With partial hands the gods their gifts dispense,
• Some greatly think, some speak with manly sense.
• Here heav’n an elegance of form denies,
• But wisdom the defect of form supplies:
• This man with energy of thought controuls,
• And steals with modest violence our souls;
• He speaks reserv’dly, but he speaks with force,
• Nor can one word be chang’d but for a worse. &c.

How fade and insipid would human life be without that pleasant beautiful variety of colours, which different characters arising from various causes cast upon it. [Ad justitiam nati translates as “born for justice.” Cicero, De legibus, I.x.28–29: “This fact will immediately be plain if you once get a clear conception of man’s fellowship and union with his fellow-men. For no single thing is so like another, so exactly its counterpart, as all of us are to one another, etc.” Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928). De officiis: “We must realise also that we are invested by nature with two characters, as it were: one of these is universal. . . . The other character is the one that is assigned to individuals in particular. In the matter of physical endowment there are great differences. . . . Diversities of character are greater still.” (I.xxx.107). “Everybody, however, must resolutely hold fast to his own peculiar gifts, in so far as they are peculiar only and not vicious, in order that propriety, which is the object of our inquiry, may the more easily be secured. For we must so act as not to oppose the universal laws of human nature, but, while safeguarding those, to follow the bent of our own particular nature, etc.” (I.xxx.110).

Homer, Odyssey, translated by Pope, VIII.185–92.]

[a. ]In the second and third chapters.

[70. ]Horace, Odes, IV.i.30: “trustful hope of love returned.” Horace, Odes and Epodes, trans. C. E. Bennett, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1968).

[71. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.49–60.

[72. ]Pope, Essay on Man, II.249–56.

[a. ]See an excellent paper in the Guardian to this purpose. [The Guardian, started by Sir Richard Steele, ran from March to October 1713. Addison, Berkeley, Pope, and Gay were among the contributors. The reference is to no. 126. See The Guardian, ed. John Calhoun Stephens (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1982).]

[73. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.361–72.

[a. ]See Cicero’s offices, Book 1. No. 16. &c. Sed cum omnia ratione animoque lustraris, omnium societatum nulla est gravior, nulla carior, quam ea, quae cum repub. est unicuique nostrum: cari sunt parentes, cariliberi, propinqui, familiares: sedomnes omnium caritates patria una complexa est. [Cicero, De officiis, I.xvii.57: “But when with a rational spirit you have surveyed the whole field, there is no social relation among them all more close, none more dear than that which links each one of us with our country. Parents are dear; dear are children, relatives, friends; but our native land embraces all our loves.”]

[a. ]See how charmingly Cicero argues this point, de legibus, Lib. I. No. 15, &c. Atqui, si natura confirmatura jus non erit, virtutes omnes tollantur. Ubi enim liberalitas, ubi patriae caritas, ubi pietas, ubi aut bene merendi de altero, aut referendae gratiae voluntas poterit existere? Nam haec nascantur ex eo, quod naturâ propensi sumus ad diligendos homines, quod fundamentum juris est.—Atqui nos legem bonam a mala, nulla alia nisi naturae norma dividere possumus. Nec solum jus & injuria a natura dijudicatur, sed omnino omnia honesta, ac turpia. Nam & communis intelligentia nobis notas res efficit, easque in animis nostris inchoavit, ut honesta in virtute ponantur, in vitiis turpia. Haec autem in opinione existimare, non in natura posita, dementis est. Nam nec arboris, nec equi virtus, quae dicitur (in quo abutimur homine) in opinione sita est, sed in natura. Quod si ita est; honesta quoque, & turpia, naturâ, dijudicanda sunt, &c. [Cicero, De legibus: “And if nature is not to be considered the foundation of justice, that will mean the destruction of the virtues on which human society depends. For where then will there be a place for generosity, or love of country, or loyalty, or the inclination to be of service to others or to show gratitude for favours received? For these virtues originate in our natural inclination to love our fellow-men, and this is the foundation of justice” (I.xv.43). “But in fact we can perceive the difference between good laws and bad by referring them to no other standard than nature; indeed, it is not merely justice and injustice which are distinguished by nature, but also and without exception things which are honourable and dishonourable. For since an intelligence common to us all makes things known to us and formulates them in our minds, honourable actions are ascribed by us to virtue, and dishonourable actions to vice; and only a madman would conclude that these judgments are matters of opinion, and not fixed by nature. For even what we, by a misuse of the term, call the virtue of a tree or of a horse, is not a matter of opinion, but is based on nature. And if that is true, honourable and dishonourable actions must also be distinguished by nature, etc.” (I.xvi.44–45).]

[74. ]Pope, Essay on Man, III.109–46.

[a. ]Liberty, by Mr. Thomson. [James Thomson (1700–1748), Liberty, a Poem (1735–36). The quote is a compilation from lines 376–87 of part 5.]

[75. ]Shaftesbury, “Soliloquy” II.ii, in Characteristics, ed. Klein, 107.

[a. ]Hence it is that the political science is able to amount to what Cor. Nepos says in his Life of Atticus, concerning Cicero’s Letters to him.—Quae qui legat non multum desideret historiam contextam, illorum temporum. Sic enim omnia de studiis principum, vitiis ducum, mutationibus reipub. perscripta sunt, ut nihil in iis non appareat: & facile existimari possit, prudentiam quodammodo esse Divinationem. Non enim Cicero ea solum quae vivo se acciderunt futura praedixit: sed etiam que nunc usu veniunt, cecinit vates. To be satisfied of the truth of this remark, one needs only look into the sixth book of Polybius, and observe from what principles he reasons. And if we consult our own Harrington, we shall see from his reasonings in one single instance, viz. about property, how necessarily the happiness of mankind depends upon a good constitution, sagely and honestly administred. [Cornelius Nepos, Liber de Latinis historicis XXV, Atticus XV.16: “One who reads these does not feel great need of a connected history of those times; for such complete details are given of the rivalry of the chief men, the faults of the leaders, the changes of government, that there is nothing that they do not make clear, and it may readily appear that Cicero’s foresight was almost divination. For he not only predicted the events that actually happened during his lifetime, but, like a seer, foretold those which are now being experienced.” Cornelius Nepos, trans. John C. Rolfe (Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: Heinemann, 1984). Polybius (ca. 203-ca. 120 bc) was a Greek historian whose History of Rome covers the period from the first Punic War to the destruction of Corinth; this is a major theme of James Harrington’s The Commonwealth of Oceana, in The Political Works of James Harrington, ed. and intr. J. G. A. Pocock (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977).]

[a. ]All the reasoning in this chapter is chiefly taken from Cicero: See de legibus, Lib. I. No. 7. & sequ.—Est igitur, quoniam nihil est ratione melius, eaque & in homine, & in deo; prima homini cum deo rationis societas. Inter quos autem ratio, inter eosdem etiam recta ratio communis est. Quae cum sit lex, lege quoque consociati homines cum diis putandi sumus. Inter quos porrò est communio legis, inter eos communio juris est.—Ut jam universus hic mundus, una civitas communis deorum, atque hominum, existi manda.—Cumque alia quibus cohaerent homines, è mortali genere sumserint, quae fragilia essent, & caduca; animum tamen esse ingeneratum à deo: ex quo verè vel agnatio nobis cum caelestibus.—Itaque ex tot generibus nullum est animal, praeter hominem, quod habeat notitiam aliquam dei: ipsisque in hominibus nulla gens est neque tam immansueta, neque tam fera, quae non, etiam si ignoret, qualem habere deum deceat, tamen habendum sciat. Ex quo efficitur illud, ut is agnoscat Deum, qui, unde ortus sit, quasi recordetur, ac noscat. Jam verò virtus eadem in homine, ac deo est.—Est autem virtus nihil aliud, quàm, in se perfecta, & ad summum perducta natura. Est igitur homini cum deo similitudo. Quod cum ita sit, quae tandem potest esse proprior certiorve cognatio? Quid est enim verius, quam neminem esse oportere tam stulte arrogantem, ut in se rationem, & mentem, putet inesse, in coelo, mundoque non putet? Aut ut ea, quae vix summa ingenii ratione comprehendat, nulla ratione moveri putet? quem vero astrorum ordines, &c. Compare de natura deorum, Lib. II. Et tamen ex ipsa hominum solertia esse aliquam mentem, & eam quidem acriorem, & divinam, existimare debemus. Unde enim hanc homo arripuit? ut ait apud Xenophontem Socrates.—Ut si quis in domum aliquam, aut in gymnasium, aut in forum venerit: cum videat omnium rerum rationem, modum disciplinam, non possit ea sine causa fieri judicare, sed esse aliquem intelligat, qui praesit, & cui pareatur: multo magis in tantis, motionibus, tantisque vicissitudinibus, tam multarum rerum, atque tantarum ordinibus, in quibus nihil umquam immensa, & infinita vetustas mentita sit, statuat necesse est, ab aliqua mente tantos naturae motus gubernari.—Si enim, est aliquid in rerum natura, quod hominis mens, quod ratio, quod vis, quod potestas humana efficere non possit: est certe id, quod illud efficit, homine melius. Atqui res coelestes—Quid vero? tanta rerum consentiens, conspirans, continuata cognatio, quem non coget ea, quae dicuntur a me comprobare?— Haec ita fieri omnibus inter se concinentibus mundi partibus profecto non possent, nisi ea uno divino, & continuato spiritu continerentur.—Talis igitur mens mundi cum sit, ob eamque causam, vel prudentia, vel providentia appellari recte possit, haec potissimum providet, & in his maxime est occupata, primum ut mundus quam aptissimus sit ad permanendum, deinde ut nulla re egeat, maxime autem ut in eo eximia pulchritudo sit, atque omnis ornatus.—Multae autem aliae naturae deorum ex magnis eorum beneficiis, & à Graeciae sapientibus, & a majoribus nostris constitutae, nominataeque sunt. Quidquid enim magnam utilitatem generi afferret humano, id non sine divina bonitate erga homines fieri arbitrabantur. Itaque tum illud, quoderat à deo natum, nomine ipsius dei nuncupabant.—Tum autem res ipsa, in qua vis inest major aliqua, sic appellatur, ut ea ipsa vis nominetur deus.—Alia quoque ex ratione, & quidem physica, magna fluxit multitudo deorum: qui induti specie humana fabulas poetis suppeditaverunt.—Videtisne igitur, ut à physicis rebus, bene, atque utiliter inventis, tracta ratio sit ad commentitios, & fictos deos? quae res genuit falsas opiniones, erroresque turbulentos, & superstitiones paene anileis.—Haec & dicuntur, & creduntur stultissime, & plena sunt futilitatis, summaeque levitatis.—Sed tamen, his fabulis spretis, ac repudiatis, deus pertinens per naturam cujusque rei—Cultus autem deorum est optimus, idemque castissimus, atque sanctissimus, plenissimusque pietatis, ut eos semper pura, integra, incorrupta & mente, & voce veneremur. De natura deorum, Lib. II.—Superstitio fusa per genteis, oppressit omnium fere animos, atque hominum imbecillitatem occupavit.—Nec vero (id enim diligentur intelligi volo) superstitione tollenda religio tollitur.—Esse praestantem aliquam, aeternamque naturam, & eam suspiciendam, admirandamque hominum generi, pulchritudo mundi, ordoque rerum caelestium cogit confiteri. Quamobrem ut religio propaganda etiam est, quae est juncta cum cognitione naturae: sic superstitionis stirpes omnes ejiciendae. De divinat. Lib. II.—Sed sic, Scipio, ut avus hic tuus, ut ego, qui te genui, justitiam cole, & pietatem: quae, cum sit magna in parentibus, & propinquis; tum in patria maxima est: ea vita, via est in caelum, & in hunc coetum eorum, qui jam vixerunt, & corpore laxati illum incolunt locum.—Somn. Scipionis. Etenim cognitio contemplatioque manca naturae, quodam modo, atque inchoata sit, si nulla actio rerum consequatur. Ea autem actio in hominum commodis tuendis maxime cernitur. Pertinet igitur ad societatem generis humani. Ergo haec cognitioni anteponenda est: atque id optimus quisque re ipsa ostendit, & judicat.—Itaque nisi ea virtus, quae constat ex hominibus tuendis, id est, ex societate generis humani, attingat cognitionem rerum, solivaga cognitio, & jejuna videatur. Itemque magnitudo animi, remota communitate, conjunctioneque humana, feritas sit quaedam immanitas. De Offic. Lib. I.—Ergo hoc quidem apparet, nos ad agendum esse natos; actionem autem genera plura.—maximae autem sunt, primum, ut mihi quidem videtur, consideratio, cognitione rerum coelestium, quas a natura occultatas, & latenteis, indagare ratio potest: deinde rerumpub. administratio, aut administrandi, sciendique prudens, temperata, fortis & justa ratio, reliquaeque virtutes, & actiones virtutibus congruentes, quae uno verbo complexi omnia, honesta dicimus: ad quorum etiam cognitionem, & usum jam corroborati, natura ipsa praeeunte deducimur. Omnium enim rerum principia parva sunt, sed suis progressionibus usa augentur, &c. De finibus, Lib. 5. Sed praesto est domina omnium & regina ratio, quae connexa per se, & progressa longius fit perfecta virtus. Haec ut imperet isti parti animi, quae obidire debet, id videndum est viro. Quonam modo? inquies. Velut dominus servo, velut imperator militi. Quae sunt ista arma? contentio, confirmatio, sermo intimus cum ipse secum.—Obversantur species honestae animo. It is reason, good sense, or philosophy, that must preside, in order to preserve the human mind sound, governable, and unfantastical. O vitae dux, virtutis indagatrix. Cic. tusc. quaest. Lib. V. [Cicero, De legibus: “Therefore, since there is nothing better than reason, and since it exists both in man and God, the first common possession of man and God is reason. But those who have reason in common must also have right reason in common. And since right reason is law, we must believe that men have law also in common with the gods. . . . Hence we must now conceive of this whole universe as one commonwealth of which both gods and men are members” (I.vii.23). “For while the other elements of which man consists were derived from what is mortal, and are therefore fragile and perishable, the soul was generated in us by God. Hence we are justified in saying that there is a blood relationship between ourselves and the celestial beings” (I.viii.24). “Therefore among all the varieties of living beings, there is no creature except man which has any knowledge of God, and among men themselves there is no race either so civilised or so savage as not to know that it must believe in a god, even if it does not know in what sort of god it ought to believe. Thus it is clear that man recognises God because, in a way, he remembers and recognises the source from which he sprang. Moreover, virtue exists in God and man alike . . . virtue, however, is nothing else than nature perfected and developed to its highest point; therefore there is a likeness between man and God. As this is true, what relationship could be closer or clearer than this one?” (I.viii.25). “Indeed, what is more true than that no one ought to be so foolishly proud as to think that, though reason and intellect exist in himself, they do not exist in the heavens and the universe, or that those things which can hardly be understood by the highest reasoning powers of the human intellect are guided by no reason at all? In truth, the man that is not driven to gratitude by the orderly courses of the stars, etc.” (II.vii.16). Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928). Compare De natura deorum: “Yet even man’s intelligence must lead us to infer the existence of a mind, and that a mind of surpassing ability, and in fact divine. Otherwise, whence did man ‘pick up’ (as Socrates says in Xenophon) the intelligence that he possesses?” (II.vi.18). “When a man goes into a house, a wrestling-school or a public assembly and observes in all that goes on arrangement, regularity and system, he cannot possibly suppose that these things come about without a cause: he realises that there is someone who presides and controls. Far more therefore with the vast movements and phases of the heavenly bodies, and these ordered processes of a multitude of enormous masses of matter, which throughout the countless ages of the infinite past have never in the smallest degree played false, is he compelled to infer that these mighty world-motions are regulated by some mind” (II.iv.15). “If there be something in the world that man’s mind and human reason, strength and power are incapable of producing, that which produces it must necessarily be superior to man; now the heavenly bodies . . .” (II.vi.16). “Again, consider the sympathetic agreement, interconnection and affinity of things: whom will this not compel to approve the truth of what I say? . . . These processes and this musical harmony of all the parts of the world assuredly could not go on were they not maintained in unison by a single divine and all-pervading spirit” (II.vii.19). “Such being the nature of the world-mind, it can therefore be correctly designated as prudence or providence; and this providence is chiefly directed and concentrated upon three objects, namely to secure for the world, first, the structure best fitted for survival; next, absolute completeness; but chiefly, consummate beauty and embellishment of every kind” (II.xxii.58). “Many other divinities however have with good reason been recognised and named both by the wisest men of Greece and by our ancestors from the great benefits that they bestow. For it was thought that whatever confers great utility on the human race must be due to the operation of divine benevolence towards men. Thus sometimes a thing sprung from a god was called by the name of the god himself” (II.xxiii.60). “In other cases some exceptionally potent force is itself designated by a title of divinity” (II.xxiii.61). “Another theory also, and that a scientific one, has been the source of a number of deities, who clad in human form have furnished the poets with legends” (II.xxiv.63). “Do you see therefore how from a true and valuable philosophy of nature has been evolved this imaginary and fanciful pantheon? The perversion has been a fruitful source of false beliefs, crazy errors and superstitions hardly above the level of old wives’ tales. . . . These stories and these beliefs are utterly foolish; they are stuffed with nonsense and absurdity of all sorts” (II.xxviii.70). “But though repudiating these myths with contempt, we shall nevertheless be able to understand the personality and the nature of the divinities pervading the substance of the several elements. . . . But the best and also the purest, holiest and most pious way of worshipping the gods is ever to venerate them with purity, sincerity and innocence both of thought and of speech” (II.xxviii.71). Cicero, De natura deorum, Academica, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1933). De divinatione, II.lxxii.148–49: “superstition, which is widespread among the nations, has taken advantage of human weakness to cast its spell over the mind of almost every man. . . . But I want it distinctly understood that the destruction of superstition does not mean the destruction of religion . . . the celestial order and the beauty of the universe compel me to confess that there is some excellent and eternal being, who deserves the homage and respect of men. Wherefore, just as it is a duty to extend the influence of true religion, which is closely associated with the knowledge of nature, so it is a duty to weed out every root of superstition.” Cicero, Desenectute, De amicitia, De divinatione, trans. William Armstead Falconer, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London, Heinemann, 1923).

The Somnio Scipionis appears as part of Cicero’s De republica, VI.xvi: “But, Scipio, imitate your grandfather here; imitate me, your father; love justice and duty, which are indeed strictly due to parents and kinsmen, but most of all to the fatherland. . . . Such a life is the road to the skies, to that gathering of those who have completed their earthly lives and been relieved of the body, and who live in yonder place.” Cicero, De re publica, De legibus, trans. Clinton Walker Keyes, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1928).

De officiis: “for the study and knowledge of the universe would somehow be lame and defective, were no practical results to follow. Such results, moreover, are best seen in the safeguarding of human interests. It is essential, then, to human society; and it should, therefore, be ranked above speculative knowledge. Upon this, all the best men agree, as they prove by their conduct” (I.xliii.153). “And so, if that virtue [justice] which centres in the safeguarding of human interests, that is, in the maintenance of human society, were not to accompany the pursuit of knowledge, that knowledge would seem isolated and barren of results. In the same way, courage, if unrestrained by the uniting bonds of society, would be but a sort of brutality and savagery” (I.xliv.157).

De finibus, V.xxi.58: “It is therefore at all events manifest that we are designed by nature for activity. Activities vary in kind . . . but the most important are, first, according to my own view . . . the contemplation and the study of the heavenly bodies and of those secrets and mysteries of nature which reason has the capacity to penetrate; secondly, the practice and the theory of politics; thirdly, the principles of prudence, temperance, courage and justice, with the remaining virtues and the activities consonant therewith, all of which we may sum up under the single term of morality; towards the knowledge and practice of which, when we have grown to maturity, we are led onward by nature’s own guidance. All things are small in their first beginnings, but they grow larger as they pass through their regular stages of progress.” Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum, trans. H. Rackham, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1931).

Tusculanae disputationes, II.xxi.47-xxii.51: “but reason, the mistress and queen of the world, stands close at hand and mounting by her own strength and pressing onward she becomes completed virtue. It is man’s duty to enable reason to have rule over that part of the soul which ought to obey. How is it to be done? you will say. Even as the master over the slave, or the general over the soldier. . . . What are the weapons he will need? He will brace and strengthen and commune with himself. . . . Let the ideals which a true man honours be kept constantly before his eyes.” Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, trans. J. E. King, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1927).

Ibid., V.ii.5: “O thou guide of life, o thou explorer of virtue. . . .”]

[a. ]Hutcheson on the Passions. [Francis Hutcheson, An Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. . . . (1728); ed. Aaron Garrett (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2002), I.vi.3.]

[76. ]Wis. of Sol. 14.

[77. ]Pope, Essay on Man, III.229–68.

[78. ]Horace, Epistles, I.vi.15–16, “Let the wise man bear the name of madman, the just of unjust, should he pursue virtue herself beyond due bounds.” Horace, Satires, Epistles and Ars poetica, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1926).

[79. ]This Biblical quote appears to be a paraphrase of 1 John 3.10 and 1 John 4.8.

[a. ]This is the ancient way of reasoning about man analogous to our way of reasoning about all other constitutions natural or artificial. Instances of it have been already quoted from Cicero and others; and another shall be added immediately.

[a. ]Animi autem, & ejus animi partis, quae princeps est, quaeque mens nominatur, plures sunt virtutes, sed duo prima genera. Unum earum, quae ingenerantur suapte natura, appellanturque non voluntariae: alterum earum, quae in voluntate: positae, magis proprio nomine appellari solent: quarum est excellens in animorum laude praestantia prioris generis est docilitas memoria: quae ferè omnia appellantur uno ingenii nomine: easque virtutes qui habent, ingeniosi vocantur. Alterum autem genus est magnarum, verarumque virtutum: quas appellamus voluntarias, ut prudentiam, temperantiam, fortitudinem, justitiam, & reliquas ejusdem generis. Cicero de finibus, Lib. 5. No. 13. [Cicero, De finibus, V.xiii.36: “The mind, on the other hand, and that dominant part of the mind which is called the intellect, possess many excellences or virtues, but these are of two main classes; one class consists of those excellences which are implanted by their own nature, and which are called non-volitional; and the other of those which, depending on our volition, are usually styled ‘virtues’ in the more special sense; and the latter are the pre-eminent glory and distinction of the mind. To the former class belong receptiveness and memory; and practically all the excellences of this class are included under one name of ‘talent,’ and their possessors are spoken of as ‘talented.’ The other class consists of the lofty virtues properly so called, which we speak of as dependent on volition, for instance, prudence, temperance, courage, justice, and the others of the same kind.”]

[a. ]Est enim actio quaedam corporis, quae motus, & status naturae congruentes tenet: in quibus si peccetur distortione, & depravatione quadam—contra naturam sunt.—Itaque è contrario moderati, aequabilesque habitus, affectiones, ususque corporis, apti esse ad naturam videntur. Jam vero animus non esse solum, sed etiam cujusdam modi debet esse, ut & omneis parteis habeat incolumeis, & de virtutibus nulla desit. Atqui in sensibus est sua cujusque virtus, ut ne quid impediat, quominus suo sensus quisque munere fungatur in iis rebus, celeriter, expediteque percipiendis quae subjectae sunt sensibus. Animi autem &c. Cicero, Lib. 5. No. 12. Now it is in this ancient, and only true way of arguing we have proceeded, and therefore we may conclude with him, That man is truly such as he paints him out to be. De legibus, Lib. 2. at the end. Nam qui se ipse norit, primum aliquid sentiet se habere divinum, ingeniumque in se suum, sicut simulacrum aliquod, dedicatum putabit; tantoque munere deorum semper dignum aliquid & faciet, & sentiet: &, cum se ipse perspexerit: totumque tentarit; intelliget, quemadmodum a natura subornatus in vitam venerit, quantaque instrumenta habeat ad obtinendam, adipiscendamque sapientiam: quoniam principio rerum omnium quasi adumbratas intelligentias animo, ac mente conceperit: quibus illustratis, sapientia duce, bonum virum, & ob eam ipsam causam cernat se beatum fore. Nam eum animus, cognitis, perceptisque virtutibus, a corporis obsequio, indulgentiaque discesserit, voluptatemque, sicut labem aliquam decoris oppresserit, omnemque mortis, dolorisque timorem effugerit, societatemque caritatis coierit cum suis omneisque natura conjunctos, suos duxerit, cultumque deorum, & puram religionem susceperit, & exacuerit illam, ut oculorum, sic ingenii aciem, ad bona diligenda, & rejicienda contraria: quae virtus ex providendo est appellata prudentia: quid eo dici, aut excogitari poterit beatius? Idemque cum coelum, terras, maria, rerumque omnium naturam perspexerit, eaque unde generata, quo recurrant, quando quo modo obitura, quid in iis mortale, & caducum, quid divinum, aeternumque sit, viderit ipsumque ea moderantem, & regentem paene prehenderit, seseque non omnis circumdatum moenibus, popularem alicujus definiti loci, sed civem totius mundi, quasi unius urbis, agnoverit: in hac ille magnificentia rerum, atque in hoc conspectu, & cognitione naturae, dii immortales, quam ipse se noscet! Atque haec omnia, quasi saepimento aliquo, vallabit disserendi ratione, veri & falsi judicio, scientia, & arte quadam intelligendi, quid quamque rem sequatur, & quid sit cuique contrarium. Cumque se ad civilem societatem natum senserit, non solum illa subtili disputatione sibi utendum putabit, sed etiam fusa latius perpetuaoratione, qua regat populos, qua stabiliat leges, qua castiget improbos, qua tueatur bonos, qua laudet claros viros: qua praecepta salutis, & laudes apte ad persuadendum edat suis civibus: qua hortari ad decus, revocare a flagitio, consolari possit afflictos: fataque, & consulta fortium, & sapientium, cum improborum ignominia, sempiternis monumentis prodire. Quae cum tot res, tantaeque sint; quae inesse in homine perspiciantur ab iis, qui se ipsi velint nosse, earum parens est, educatrixque sapientia. This is a true picture of human nature, and of our duties. And truly had we not been made by an infinitely wise and good being, man must have been quite the reverse; such ananimal, as Ulysses’s men were metamorphosed into by Circes in Homer, the sum of which fiction amounts briefly to this in Horace’s words.

• Sirenum voces, & Circes pocula nosti:
• Quae si cum sociis stultus cupidusque bibisset;
• Sub dominâ meretrice fuisset turpis & excors,
• Vixisset canis immundus, velamica luto sus.
• Epist. lib. I. Epist. 2.

[Cicero, De finibus, V.xii.35-xiii.36: “Again, there is also a certain form of bodily activity which keeps the motions and postures in harmony with nature; and any error in these, due to distortion or deformity . . . is contrary to nature. . . . And so, on the contrary, a controlled and well-regulated bearing, condition and movement of the body has the appearance of being in harmony with nature. Turning now to the mind, this must not only exist, but also be of a certain character; it must have all its parts intact and lack none of the virtues. The senses also possess their several virtues or excellences, consisting in the unimpeded performance of their several functions of swiftly and readily perceiving sensible objects. The mind, on the other hand, etc.”

De legibus, I.xxii.59-xxiv.62: “For he who knows himself will realise, in the first place, that he has a divine element within him, and will think of his own inner nature as a kind of consecrated image of God; and so he will always act and think in a way worthy of so great a gift of the gods, and, when he has examined and thoroughly tested himself, he will understand how nobly equipped by nature he entered life, and what manifold means he possesses for the attainment and acquisition of wisdom. For from the very first he began to form in his mind and spirit shadowy concepts, as it were, of all sorts, and when these have been illuminated under the guidance of wisdom, he perceives that he will be a good man, and, for that very reason, happy. For when the mind, having attained to a knowledge and perception of the virtues, has abandoned its subservience to the body and its indulgence of it, has put down pleasure as if it were a taint of dishonour, has escaped from all fear of death or pain, has entered into a partnership of love with its own, recognising as its own all who are joined to it by nature; when it has taken up the worship of the gods and pure religion, has sharpened the vision both of the eye and of the mind so that they can choose the good and reject the opposite—a virtue which is called prudence because it foresees—then what greater degree of happiness can be described or imagined? And further, when it had examined the heavens, the earth, the seas, the nature of the universe, and understands whence all these things came and whither they must return, when and how they are destined to perish, what part of them is mortal and transient and what is divine and eternal; and when it almost lays hold of the ruler and governor of the universe, and when it realises that it is not shut in by [narrow] walls as a resident of some fixed spot, but is a citizen of the whole universe, as it were of a single city—then in the midst of this universal grandeur, and with such a view and comprehension of nature, ye immortal gods, how well it will know itself. . . . And in defence of all this, it will erect battlements of dialectic, of the science of distinguishing the true from the false, and of the art, so to speak, of understanding the consequences and opposites of every statement. And when it realises that it is born to take part in the life of a state, it will think that it must employ not merely the customary subtle method of debate, but also the more copious continuous style, considering, for example, how to rule nations, establish laws, punish the wicked, protect the good, honour those who excel, publish to fellow-citizens precepts conducive to their well-being and credit, so designed as to win their acceptance; how to arouse them to honourable actions, recall them from wrong-doing, console the afflicted, and hand down to everlasting memory the deeds and counsels of brave and wise men, and the infamy of the wicked. So many and so great are the powers which are perceived to exist in man by those who desire to know themselves; and their parent and their nurse is wisdom.”

Horace, Epistles, I.ii.23–26: “You know the Sirens’ song and Circe’s cups; if, along with his comrades, he had drunk of these in folly and greed, he would have become the shapeless and witless vassal of a harlot mistress—would have lived as an unclean dog or a sow that loves the mire.”]

[80. ]Paraphrase of Psalms 8.5.

[a. ]See Mr. Hutcheson on the passions, whose words these are. [Hutcheson, Passions, I.vi.3.]

[a. ]See Cicero de divinatione, Lib. 2. No. 9. Atque ego ne utilem quidem arbitror esse nobis futurarum rerum scientiam. Quae enim vita fuisset Priamo, si ab adulescentia scisset, quos eventus senectutis esset habiturus? &c. [Cicero, De divinatione, II.ix.22: “And further, for my part, I think that a knowledge of the future would be a disadvantage. Consider, for example, what Priam’s life would have been if he had known from youth what dire events his old age held in store for him!”]

[81. ]Horace, Odes, III.xxix.29–30: “With wise purpose does the god bury in the shades of night the future’s outcome.” Horace, Odes and Epodes, trans. C. E. Bennett, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1968).

[82. ]Pope, Essay on Man, I.77–80, 85–86.

[83. ]Horace, Odes, III.xxix.32–33: “Remember to settle with tranquil heart the problem of the hour!”

[a. ]The chief arguments from which the ancients inferred the immortality of the soul shall be taken notice of, because some have said, no good arguments are to be found among them, to render it so much as probable. The first was, universal consent: Sed ut Deos esse natura opinamur, qualesque sint, ratione cognoscimus: sic permanere animos arbitramur consensu nationum omnium: qua in sede maneant, qualesque sint, ratione discendum est. Cujus ignoratio finxit inferos, &c. Enim autem in re consensio omnium gentium, lex naturae putanda est. Tusc. Quaest. Lib. I. No. 16.

2. The second was, that our connexion with a sensible world, by means of our bodily organization, is not necessary, but arbitrary; and that our thinking part being totally or essentially distinct from our body, may survive it, and cannot otherwise perish with it, than by the will of our Creator that it shall. “Nos enim ne nunc quidem oculis cernimus ea quae videmus. Neque enim est ullus sensus in corpore, sed, ut non solum physici docent, verum etiam medici, qui ista aperta, & patefacta viderunt, viae quasi quaedam sunt ad oculos, ad aureis, ad nareis á sede animi perforatae. Itaque saepe, aut cogitatione, aut aliqua vi morbi impediti, apertis atque integris & oculis, & auribus, nec videmus, nec audimus: ut facile intelligi possit, animum & videre, & audire, non eas parteis, quae quasi fenestrae sunt animi: quibus tamen sentire nihil queat mens, nisi id agat, & adsit. Quid, quod eadem mente res dissimillimas comprehendimus, ut colorem, saporem, calorem, odorem, sonum? quae numquam quinque nuntiis animus cognosceret, nisi ad eum omnia referrentur, & is omnium judex solus esset.—Haec reputent isti, qui negant, animum sine corpore se intelligere posse. Videbunt quem in ipso corpore intelligant. Mihi quidem naturam animi intuenti, multo difficilior occurrit cogitatio, multoque obscurior, qualis animus in corpore sit, tanquam alienae domui, quam qualis, cum exierit, & in liberum coelum, quasi domum suam venerit.—Animorum nulla in terris origo inveniri potest: nihil enim est in animis mixtum, atque concretum, aut quod ex terra natum, atque fictum esse videatur—His enim in naturis nihil inest, quod vim memoriae, mentis, cogitationis habeat, quod & praeterita teneat, & futura provideat, & complecti possit praesentia: quae sola divina sunt. Nec invenietur umquam, unde ad hominem venire possint, nisi a Deo. Singularis est igitur quaedam natura atque vis animi sejuncta ab his usitatis, notisque naturis. Ita quidquid est illud, quod sentit, quod sapit, quod vivit, quod viget, coeleste & divinum est, ob eamque rem aeternum sit necesse est. Nec veró deus ipse, qui intelligitur a nobis, alio modo intelligi potest, nisi mens soluta quaedam, & libera, segregata ab omni concretione mortali, omnia sentiens & movens, ipsaque praedita motu sempiterno.

3. We can separate our minds from our bodies when we will, in a certain sense. Tota enim philosophorum vita, ut ait idem, commentatio mortis est. Namquidaliud agimus, cum a voluptate, id est, a corpore, cum a re familiari, quae est ministra, & famula corporis, cum a rep. cum a negotio omni sevocamus animum? quid, inquam, tum agimus, nisi animum ad seipsum advocamus, secum esse cogimus, maximeque a corpore abducimus? secernere autem a corpore animum, nec quidquam aliud est, quam mori discere.

4. Their principal arguments were taken from the dignity, the excellent moral powers of our minds, many descriptions of which have been quoted from them. See what is said of them Tusc. quaest. Lib. I. No. 25, & deinceps. With which arguments were joined, our natural sense and desire of immortality, our care about futurity, love of glory, and natural pleasure in expanding the mind in the contemplation of eternity. Cicero, ibidem, and in the Somnio Scipionis. [Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes: “But just as it is by natural instinct that we believe in the existence of gods, and by the exercise of reason that we learn to know their nature, so it is that resting upon the agreement of all races of mankind we think that souls have an abiding life, and it is by reason that we must learn their place of abode and their nature. It is ignorance of this that has invented the world below” (I.xvi.36). “. . . in every inquiry the unanimity of the races of the world must be regarded as a law of nature”(I.xii.30). Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, trans. J. E. King, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1927).

Ibid.: “We do not even now distinguish with our eyes the things we see; for there is no perception in the body, but, as it is taught not only by natural philosophers but also by the experts of medicine, who have seen the proofs openly disclosed, there are, as it were, passages bored from the seat of the soul to eye and ear and nose. Often, therefore, we are hindered by absorption in thought or by some attack of sickness, and though eyes and ears are open and uninjured, we neither see nor hear, so that it can be readily understood that it is the soul which both sees and hears, and not those parts of us which serve as windows to the soul, and yet the mind can perceive nothing through them, unless it is active and attentive. What of the fact that by using the same mind we have perception of things so utterly unlike as colour, taste, heat, smell, sound? These the soul would never have ascertained by its five messengers, unless it had been sole court of appeal and only judge of everything” (I.xx.46). “Let the thinkers who say they cannot understand soul without body reflect upon these considerations, and they will see how far they understand soul while it is actually in the body. For my part, when I study the nature of the soul, the conception of it in the body, as it were in a home that is not its own, presents itself as one much more difficult, much more doubtful than the conception of the nature of the soul when it has quitted the body and come into the free heaven, as it were to its home” (I.xxi.51). “No beginning of souls can be discovered on earth; for there is no trace of blending or combination in souls or any particle that could seem born or fashioned from earth. . . . For in these elements there is nothing to possess the power of memory, thought, reflection, nothing capable of retaining the past, or foreseeing the future and grasping the present, and these capacities are nothing but divine; and never will there be found any source from which they can come to men except from God. There is then a peculiar essential character belonging to the soul, distinct from these common and well-known elements. Accordingly, whatever it is that is conscious, that is wise, that lives, that is active must be heavenly and divine and for that reason eternal. And indeed God Himself, who is comprehended by us, can be comprehended in no other way save as a mind unfettered and free, severed from all perishable matter, conscious of all and moving all and self-endowed with perpetual motion” (I.xxvii.66–67).

Ibid., I.xxx.74-xxxi.75: “For the whole life of the philosopher, as the same wise man says, is a preparation for death. For what else do we do when we sequester the soul from pleasure, for that means from the body; from private property, the hand-maid and servant of the body; from public interests; from any kind of business: what, I say, do we then do except summon the soul to its own presence, force it to companionship with itself and withdraw it completely from the body? But is severance of the soul from the body anything else than learning how to die?”]

[84. ]Pope, Essay on Man, III.7–18.

[a. ]Pliny in his Natural history, and Lucretius, Lib. III

• Praeterea gigni pariter cum corpore & una
• Crescere sentimus, pariterque senescere mentem, &c.

To which it is sufficient to oppose one excellent passage of Cicero, which is so just an account of human nature, and of what may be inferred from it concerning futurity, that I cannot chuse but add it to what hath been already quoted, to shew how just notions they had of religion and virtue, of mankind, and the Author of nature. Quid multa? sic mihi persuasi, sic sentio, cum tanta celeritas animorum sit, tanta memoria praeteritorum, futurorumque prudentia, tot artes, tantae scientiae, tot inventa, non posse eam naturam, quae res eas contineat, esse mortalem:—Et cum simplex animi natura sit, neque haberet in se quidquam admixtum dispar sui, atque dissimile, non posse eum dividi: quod si non possit, non posse interire. Cicero de senectute, No. 21. These arguments do certainly amount to a very great degree of probability, and must have had a very persuasive influence on minds so well disposed, as to look upon those who taught the mortality of our souls to be Minuti Philosophi, because they had pleasure in promoting a doctrine so opposite to the natural greatness of the human mind, and tending to cramp it most miserably: and who were so inclinable to entertain the other chearful and quickening belief, that they could say with Cicero, (ibidem) Quod si in hoc erro, animos hominum immortalis esse credam, libenter erro: nec mihi hunc errorem, quo delector, dum vivo, extorqueri volo. Sin mortuus (ut quidam minuti philosophi censent) nihil sentiam: non vereor, ne hunc errorem meum mortui philosophi irrideant. [Lucretius, De rerum natura, III.445–46: “Besides, we feel that the mind is begotten along with the body, and grows up with it, and with it grows old.” Lucretius, De rerum natura, trans. W. H. D. Rouse, rev. Martin Ferguson Smith, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: Heinemann, 1975).

Cicero, De senectute, xxi.78: “Why multiply words? That is my conviction, that is what I believe—since such is the lightning-like rapidity of the soul, such its wonderful memory of things that are past, such its ability to forecast the future, such its mastery of many arts, sciences and inventions, that its nature, which encompasses all these things, cannot be mortal . . . and since in its nature the soul is of one substance and has nothing whatever mingled with it unlike or dissimilar to itself, it cannot be divided, and if it cannot be divided it cannot perish.” Cicero, De senectute, De amicitia, De divinatione, trans. William Armstead Falconer, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: Heinemann, 1923).

Ibid., xxiii.85: “And if I err in my belief that the souls of men are immortal, I gladly err, nor do I wish this error which gives me pleasure to be wrested from me while I live. But if when dead I am going to be without sensation (as some petty philosophers think), then I have no fear that these seers, when they are dead, will have the laugh on me!”

Minuti philosophi translates as “petty philosophers.”]

[85. ]Persius, Satires, II.17–20: “Come now, answer me this question: it is a very little thing that I want to know; What is your opinion of Jupiter? Would you rank him above—‘Above whom?’—Above whom, you ask? Well, shall we say Staius? or do you stick at that? Could you name a more upright judge than Staius; or one more fitted to be a guardian to an orphan family?” Juvenal and Persius, trans. G. G. Ramsay, rev. ed., Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1940).

[a. ]So Salust. Secundae res animum sapientis fatigant. So Tacitus, Hist. lib 1. Fortunam adhuc tantam adversam tulisti secundae res acrioribus stimulis animum explorant. Quia miseriae tolerantur, felicitate corrumpimur, &c. [Sallust, The War with Catiline, xi.7: “Prosperity tries the souls even of the wise.” Sallust, trans. J. C. Rolfe, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1920). Tacitus, Histories, I.xv: “Thus far you have known only adversity; prosperity tests the spirit with sharper goads, because we simply endure misfortune, but are corrupted by success.” Tacitus, The Histories, trans. Clifford M. Moore, 2 vols., Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1925).]

[a. ]The law explained in the beginning of the first chapter.

[86. ]Gal. 6.7.

[87. ]Pope, Essay on Man, IV.145–56, 168–70, 189–92.

[88. ]Pope, Essay on Man, I.93–98.

[89. ]Ibid., IV.341–52.

[90. ]Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes, I.xlix.118–19: “let us all the same make up our minds to regard that day as auspicious for us, though to others it seems terrible. . . . For not to blind hazard or accident is our birth and our creation due, but assuredly there is a power to watch over mankind, and not one that would beget and maintain a race which, after exhausting the full burden of sorrows, should then fall into the everlasting evil of death: let us regard it rather as a haven and a place of refuge prepared for us.” Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, trans. J. E. King, Loeb Classical Library (London: Heinemann; New York: Putnam, 1927).