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essay viii: Knowledge of the Deity - Henry Home, Lord Kames, Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natural Religion [1779]Edition used:Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natural Religion, Corrected and Improved, in a Third Edition. Several Essays Added Concerning the Proof of a Deity, Edited and with an Introduction by Mary Catherine Moran (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2005).
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essay viiiKnowledge of the DeityThe arguments a priori for the existence and attributes of the Deity, are urged, with the greatest shew of reason, in the sermons preached at Boyle’s lectures.1 But these sermons, though they command my attention, never reach my heart: on the contrary, they always give me a sensible uneasiness; the cause of which I imagine I can now explain. Such deep metaphysical reasoning, supposing it to be conclusive, is surely not fitted for the vulgar and illiterate. Is then our Maker known to none but to persons of great study and deep thinking? Is a vail thrown over the eyes of the rest of mankind? This thought always returned upon me, and gave me pain. If there really exist a Being who made and who governs the world, and if it be his purpose to display himself to his rational creatures; it is not accountable that he should stop short at a very small part of mankind. At the same time, to found our knowledge of the Deity upon reasoning solely, is not agreeable to the analogy of nature. We depend not on abstract reasoning, nor indeed on any reasoning, for unfolding our duty to our fellow creatures: it is engraved upon the table of our hearts. We adapt our actions to the course of nature, by mere instinct, without reasoning, or even experience. Therefore, if analogy can be relied on, it ought to be thought that God will discover himself to us, in some such manner as may take in all mankind, the vulgar and illiterate as well as the deep-thinking philosopher. If these abstruse arguments be relished by the learned and speculative, it is so far well. I cannot help acknowledging, that they afford me no conviction; at least no solid and permanent conviction. We know little about the nature of things, but what we learn from a strict attention to our own nature. That nothing can begin to exist without a cause, is sufficiently evident from sense.* But that this can be demonstrated by any argument a priori, drawn from the nature of things, I have not observed.† And if demonstration fail us in the very out setting, we cannot hope for its assistance in the subsequent steps. But if this difficulty shall be surmounted, we have another to struggle with. Admitting that something has existed from all eternity, I find no data to determine a priori, whether this world has existed from all eternity, in a constant succession of causes and effects; or whether it is an effect produced by an almighty power. It is indeed hard to conceive a world, eternal and self-existent, where all things are carried on by blind fate, without design or intelligence. And yet I can find no demonstration to the contrary. If we can form any obscure notion of a single being existing from all eternity, is it more difficult to form a notion of a succession of beings, existing from all eternity, or a notion of a perpetual succession of causes and effects? Mr. Locke‡ admits that we have no innate idea of God; but insists that the existence of God can be demonstrated; and the following is his demonstration. Whatever had a beginning must be produced by something else: but man, an intelligent being, had a beginning; and therefore must have been produced by some powerful intelligent Being: and if that powerful intelligent Being had no beginning, he must have existed from all eternity; and it is that Being we term God. This is a very infirm demonstration. It rests intirely upon the foundation of man having had a beginning, which is not self-evident. It includes no absurdity to suppose that this earth with all the beings upon it, cogitative and incogitative, may have existed from all eternity. This argument could not have passed as a demonstration with so consummate a logician as Mr. Locke, but for an antecedent conviction of a self-existent intelligent Being who made and governs the world. And with respect to any known truth, nothing is more common than to hold a few lame ergos to be a strict demonstration. When we think of eternity and of an eternal Being, difficulties press on every side. But these difficulties are occasioned by the limited capacity of the mind of man. We cannot comprehend an eternity of existence: it is an object too bulky: it eludes our grasp. The mind is like the eye: it cannot take in an object that is very great or very little. This plainly is the source of our difficulties, when we attempt speculations so remote from common apprehension. Abstract reasoning upon such a subject, must lead into endless perplexities. It is indeed less difficult to conceive one eternal unchangeable Being who made the world, than to conceive a blind chain of causes and effects. At least, we are disposed to the former, as being more agreeable to the imagination. But as we cannot find any inconsistency in the latter supposition, we cannot justly say that it is demonstrably false. Give me leave to add, that to bring out such abstruse and intricates peculations into any clear light, is at any rate scarce to be expected. And if, after the utmost straining, they remain obscure and unaffecting, it is evident to me, that they must have a bad tendency. Persons of a peevish and gloomy cast of mind, finding no conviction from that quarter, will be fortified in their propension to believe that all things happen by blind chance; that there is no wisdom, order, nor harmony, in the government of this world; and consequently, that there is no God. Being therefore little solicitous about arguments a priori for the existence of a Deity, which are not proportioned to the capacity of man, I apply myself with zeal and chearfulness, to search for the Deity in his works; for by these we must discover him, if he have thought proper to make himself known. And the better to manage the inquiry, I shall endeavour to make out three propositions; 1st, That if there exist a Being who is the Maker and Governor of the world, it seems to be a necessary part of his government, that he should make himself known to his intelligent creatures. 2dly, That in fact he hath done so. And, 3dly, That to compass this end, a method is employed entirely suited to our nature, and the same by which many other truths of the greatest importance are laid open to us. There certainly cannot be a more discouraging thought to man, than that the world was formed by a fortuitous concourse of atoms, and that all things are carried on by blind impulse. Upon that supposition, he can have no security for his life; nor for his continuing to be an intelligent creature, even for a moment. Things have been carried on with regularity and order: but chance may, in an instant, throw all things into horrid confusion. We can have no comfort in virtue, when it is a work of mere chance; nor can we justify our reliance upon the faith of others, when the nature of man rests upon so precarious a foundation. Every thing must appear gloomy, dismal, and disjointed, without a Deity to unite this world of beings into one beautiful and harmonious system. These considerations, and many more that will occur upon the first reflection, afford a very strong conviction, if there be a wise and good Being who superintends the affairs of this world, that he will not conceal himself from his rational creatures. Can any thing be more desirable or more substantially useful, than to know that there is a Being, from whom no secrets are hid, to whom our good works are acceptable, and even the good purposes of our hearts; and whose government, directed by wisdom and benevolence, ought to make us rest secure, that nothing doth nor will fall out but according to good order? This sentiment, rooted in the mind, is an antidote to all misfortune. Without it, life is at best but a confused and gloomy scene. And this leads to a different consideration, which makes our knowledge of a benevolent Deity of the greatest importance to us. Though natural and moral evil are far from prevailing in this world, yet so much of both is scattered over the face of things, as to create some degree of doubt, whether there may not be a mixture of chance or of ill-will in the government of this world. But once supposing the superintendency of a good Being, these evils are no longer considered as such. A man restrains himself from unlawful pleasures, though the restraint gives him pain. But then he does not consider this pain as an evil to repine at: he submits to it voluntarily and with satisfaction, as one doth to grief for the loss of a friend; being conscious that it is right and fit for him to be so affected. In the same manner, he submits to all the evils of this life. Having confidence in the good government of the Deity, he is persuaded that every thing happens for the best; and therefore that it is his duty to submit to whatever happens. This unfolds a scene so enlivening and so productive of chearfulness and good humour, that we cannot readily think, if there be a benevolent Deity, that he would with-hold from his creatures so invaluable a blessing. Man, at the same time, by his taste for beauty, regularity, and order, is fitted for contemplating the wisdom and goodness displayed in the frame and government of this world. These are proper objects of admiration and joy. It is not agreeable to the ordinary course of nature, that man should be endued with an affection, without having a proper object to bestow it upon. And as the providence of the Deity is the highest object of this affection, it would be unnatural, that man should be kept in ignorance of it. These, I admit, are but probable reasons for believing, that if there exist a benevolent Deity, it must be his intention to manifest himself to his creatures: but they carry a high degree of probability, which leaves little room for doubt. At the same time, though it should be our fate to search in vain for this object of our affection, we ought not however to despair, and in that despair to conclude there is no God. Let us but reflect, that he hath not manifested himself to all his creatures. The brutes certainly know nothing of him. And should we be disappointed in this search, all we can conclude is, that, for good and wise purposes which we cannot dive into, he hath thought proper to with-hold himself also from us. We certainly have no reason to convert our ignorance into an argument against his existence. Our ignorance brings us only a step lower, and puts us so far upon a footing with the brute creation. The second and important branch of our disquisition is, to as certain that there is a Deity, and that he hath manifested himself to us. I request only attention of my reader, and not any unreasonable concession. In a former Essay,* two propositions are made out. The first is, That every thing that hath a beginning, is perceived as a production or effect, which necessarily involves the idea of a cause. The second, That whatever of contrivance or usefulness is discovered in the effect, is necessarily attributed to the cause. Considering a house, garden, picture, or statue, in itself, it is perceived as beautiful. If we attend to these objects as things having a beginning, we perceive them to be effects, involving the idea of a cause. Natural objects, such as plants and animals, are also perceived as effects, or as the production of some cause. The question will always recur, How came it here? Who made it? What is the cause of its existence? We are so accustomed to human arts, that every work of design and use will be attributed to man, if it exceed not his known powers. Nor do effects above the power of man unhinge our notion of a cause: they only lead the mind to a more powerful cause. With respect to the second proposition, that we attribute to the cause whatever of contrivance or usefulness is discovered in the effect, attend to any useful machine, such as a plough or a fire-engine, we necessarily infer that the contriver was a man of skill, and probably public spirited. With respect to works of nature, so much art and usefulness are discovered in the various plants covering the surface of this globe, as necessarily to make us infer them to be the production of some cause, benevolent as well as powerful and intelligent. The scene opens more and more, when, passing from plants to animals, we come to man, the most wonderful of all the works of nature. And when at last we take in at one view the material and moral worlds, full of harmony, order, and beauty, happily adjusted to answer great and glorious purposes; there is in this grand production necessarily involved the conviction of a cause, unbounded in power, intelligence, and goodness.* Thus it is, that the Deity hath manifested himself to us by principles wrought into our nature, which infallibly operate upon viewing objects in their relation of cause and effect. We discover external objects by their qualities of colour, figure, size, and motion. In the perception of these qualities, connected after a certain manner, is comprehended the perception of the substance or thing, to which these qualities belong. At the same time, we perceive this substance or thing supposing it to have had a beginning, to be an effect produced by some cause; and we perceive the powers and properties of this cause, from its effects. If there be an aptitude in the effect to some end, we attribute to the cause intelligence and design. If the effect produced be something that is good in itself, or that hath a tendency to some good end or purpose, we attribute goodness to the cause, as well as intelligence and design: and this we do, not by any process of reasoning, but by the light of nature. The Deity hath not left his existence to be gathered from slippery and far-fetched arguments. We need but open our eyes, to receive impressions of him almost from every thing we perceive. We discover his being and attributes in the same manner as we discover external objects, namely by the evidence of our senses. And none but they who deny the existence of matter against the evidence of their senses, can seriously and deliberately deny the existence of the Deity. In fine, there is a wonderful harmony established betwixt our senses, internal and external, and the course of nature. We rely on our senses, for the existence of external objects, and their past, present, and future operations. We rely on these senses by the necessity of our nature; and upon experience find ourselves not deceived. Our conviction of the Deity, is as distinct and authoritative as that of external objects. And though here we have not experience to appeal to, the want of experience can never afford an argument against any proposition, where, from the nature of the thing, there can be no experience. It is sufficient for conviction, that our senses correspond to the truth of things, wherever there is an opportunity to try them by experience; and therefore we can have no cause to doubt of our senses in any case, where they are not contradicted by experience. So far the Deity is discoverable, by every person who goes but one step beyond the surface of things, and their mere existence. We may indeed behold the earth in its gayest dress, the heavens in all their glory, without having any perception other than that of beauty, something in these objects that pleases and delights us. Many pass their lives, brutishly involved in corporeal pleasures, without having any perception, at least any strong or permanent perception, of the Deity. But the Deity cannot be long hid from those who are accustomed to any degree of reflection. No sooner are we prepared to relish beauties of the second and third class;* no sooner do we acquire a taste for regularity, order, design, and good purpose, than we begin to perceive the Deity in the beauty of the operations of nature. Savages, who have no consistent rule of conduct, who act by the blind impulse of passion and appetite, and who have only a glimmering of the moral sense, are but ill qualified to discover the Deity in his works. If they have little or no perception of a just tenor of life, of the dignity of behaviour, or of the beauty of action, how should they perceive the beauty of the works of creation, or the admirable harmony of all the parts, in the great system of things? Society teaches mankind self-denial, and improves the moral sense. Disciplined in society, the taste for order and regularity unfolds itself by degrees: the social affections gain the ascendant; and the morality of actions takes firm hold of the mind. In this improved state, the beauty of the creation makes a strong impression; and we can never cease admiring the excellency of that Cause, who is the author of so many beautiful effects.* Hitherto we have gone no farther, than to point out the means by which we discover the Deity, and his attributes of power, wisdom, and goodness. So far are we carried, by those principles in our nature which discover the connection betwixt cause and effect, and from the effect discover the powers and properties of the cause. But there is one attribute of the Supreme Being, of the most essential kind, which remains to be unfolded. It is what commonly passeth under the name of self-existence, that he must have existed for ever; and, consequently, that he cannot be considered as an effect, to require a cause of his existence; but, without being caused, that, mediately or immediately, he is the Cause of all other things. If all beings had a beginning, there must have been a time when the world was an absolute void; upon which supposition, it is intuitively certain, that nothing ever could have come into existence. This proposition we perceive to be true; and our perception affords us, in this case, a more solid conviction than any demonstration can do. One being, therefore, must have existed from all eternity: who, as he is not an effect or production, cannot be indebted for his existence to any other being. That there must be one eternal self-existing Being, is a capital point. What only remains is to consider, whether this world with all it contains was created by that Being; or whether the world itself be that one eternal self-existent Being. The latter opinion is maintained by several writers, ancient and modern. And supposing their eternal and self-existent world to be endued with an intelligent mind, uniting the various parts into one great whole, and directing the great chain of causes and effects, I perceive not any absurdity in the supposition, as far as my reason can carry me. But as this governing mind would be the Deity, the very Being we are in quest of, the supposition is rejected by these writers; who hold, that this world, devoid of intelligence, is governed by blind fatality, or perhaps by chance. Chance, in the sense here given it, must be exploded, as it is made out above, that the term signifies nothing but our ignorance of a cause.* And as for blind fatality, the intelligence and foresight displayed in the government of the world, is clearly inconsistent with that opinion. The numberless effects daily falling out, that bespeak power, wisdom, and benevolence in their cause, afford to us intuitive conviction of the world being governed by a powerful, wise, and benevolent Being. The light of nature leads us to that conclusion, and permits us not to entertain the slightest doubt of it.† Therefore, supposing this world to be eternal and self-existent, there must be notwithstanding an independent cause which governs all, and that cause is God. At the same time, I am far from admitting the world, this earth at least, to be eternal. The following argument appears to me conclusive against that opinion. Whatever is frequently changing must be an effect; because if it never had a beginning, all the changes it is susceptible of must have happened millions of ages ago. This earth, the surface at least, is continually changing, the hills gradually mouldering down to the valleys, the sea incroaching on the land, and the land on the sea, the latter growing salter and salter, &c. &c. Therefore it cannot be eternal. It will not enervate this argument, that these changes may be the effect of earthquakes, deluges, or other extraordinary events; for every grand revolution as well as every minute change must have happened long ago, if this earth had no beginning. The bulk of mankind in forming their notion of a Deity, do not include the attribute of self-existence: a man must be accustomed to abstract reasoning, who of himself discovers this truth. But it is not difficult to explain it to others, after it is discovered. And it deserves well to be inculcated; for without it our knowledge of the Deity must be extremely imperfect. His other attributes of power, wisdom, and goodness, are in some measure communicated to his creatures; but his attribute of self-existence makes the strongest opposition imaginable betwixt him and his creatures. The third point, namely, the means employed by the Deity to make himself known to us, require very little explanation after what is laid down above. The essence of the Deity is far beyond the reach of our comprehension. Were he to exhibit himself to us in broad day-light, he could not be reached by any of our external senses. Spirit cannot be reached by any of them; and the attributes of self-existence, wisdom, goodness, and power, are purely intellectual. By means indeed of that sense which discovers causes from their effects, he hath manifested himself to us in a satisfactory manner, liable to no doubt nor error. And after all, what further evidence can we desire, when the evidence we have of his existence is little inferior to that we have of our own existence? Our senses serve us for evidence in both.* Our own existence indeed is, of all facts, that which concerns us the most; and therefore of our own existence we ought to have the highest certainty. Next to it, we have not, as it appears to me, a greater certainty of any matter of fact, than of the existence of the Deity. It is equal to the certainty we have of external objects, and of the constancy and uniformity of the operations of nature, upon the faith of which our whole schemes of life are adjusted. The arguments a posteriori that have been urged for the being and attributes of the Deity, are generally defective. There is always wanting one link of the chain, to wit, that sense upon which is founded our knowledge of causes and their effects. But the calm perceptions, turning habitual by frequent repetition, are apt to be overlooked in our reasonings. Many a proposition is rendered obscure by much laboured argument, for the truth of which we need but appeal to our own senses. Thus, we are told, that the frame and order of the world, the wisdom and goodness displayed in every part of it, are an evident demonstration of the being of a God. These, I acknowledge, afford full conviction. But, laying aside sense and perception, I should be utterly at a loss to conclude from reasoning, the existence of any one thing from that of another. In particular, by what process of reasoning can we demonstrate it to be true, That order and beauty must proceed from a designing cause? The idea of an effect involves indeed the idea of a cause; but does reason make out, that the thing we name an effect, may not exist of itself, as well as what we name a cause? If it be urged, that human works, where means are apparently adjusted to an end and beauty and order discovered, are always known to be the effects of intelligence and design: I admit this to be true, as far as I have experience. But where experience fails me, I desire to know by what step, what link in the chain of reasoning, am I to connect my past experience with the future. If it be said, that nature prompts us to judge of similar instances, by former experience; this is giving up reason and demonstration, to appeal to that very sense, on the evidence of which this truth must entirely rest. All the arguments a posteriori may be resolved into this principle: which probably influenced the writers who handle the present subject; though, I must be allowed to say, it hath not been explained, nor perhaps sufficiently understood by them; whereby all of them have been led into the error of stating as demonstrative reasoning, what is truly an appeal to our senses. They reason, for example, upon the equality of males and females; and hold the infinite odds against this equality to be a demonstration that matters cannot be carried on by chance. This, considered merely as reasoning, does not conclude; for events are infinite in their variety. But though reason cannot afford demonstration in this case, sense and perception afford conviction. The equality of males and females, is one of the many instances which we know and perceive to be effects of a designing cause; and of which we can no more entertain a doubt, than of our own existence. The same sense that unfolds to us the connection of causes and their effects in the most common events, discovers this whole universe to stand in the relation of an effect to a supreme cause. To substitute sense in place of reason and demonstration, may seem to put the evidence of the Deity upon too low a footing. On the contrary, intuition affords a higher degree of conviction than any reasoning can do. Human reason is commonly overvalued by philosophers. It affords very little aid in making original discoveries. The comparing things together, and directing our inferences from sense and experience, are its proper province. Reason indeed gives its aid, in our inquiries concerning the Deity: it enlarges our views of final causes, and of the prevalence of wisdom and goodness. But the application of the argument from final causes to prove the existence of a Deity, and the force of our conclusion from beautiful and orderly effects to a designing cause, are not from reason, but from an internal light, which shows things in their relation of cause and effect. These conclusions rest entirely upon sense; and it is surprising, that writers should overlook what is so natural, and so obvious. But the pride of man’s heart, makes him desire to extend his discoveries by dint of reasoning, which is his own work. There is merit in acuteness and penetration; and we are better pleased to assume merit to ourselves, than humbly to acknowledge, that, to the most important discoveries, we are directly led by the hand of the Almighty.* Having unfolded that principle upon which I would rest the most important of all truths, objections must not be overlooked. To these I shall give their utmost weight; which ought to be done in every controversy, and which becomes more strictly a duty, in handling a subject where truth is of the utmost importance. One objection may be, that the foregoing argument from which we conclude the eternity and self-existence of one Being who made this world, doth not necessarily infer the conclusion; because it will equally conclude for an eternal succession of beings deriving their existence from each other. In matters so profound, it is difficult to form notions with any degree of accuracy. It is observed above, that it is much form an to grasp in his thought an eternal Being, whose existence cannot admit the supposition of a cause. To talk, as some of our metaphysical writers do, of an absolute necessity in the nature of the Being as the cause of his existence, is mere jargon. For we can conceive nothing more clearly, than that the cause must go before the effect, and that the cause cannot possibly be in the effect. But however difficult it may be to conceive one eternal Being, without a cause of its existence; it is no less difficult to conceive an eternal succession of beings, deriving their existence from each other: for though every link be supposed a production, the chain itself exists without a cause, as well as one eternal Being does. Therefore an eternal succession of beings is not a more natural supposition, than one eternal self-existent Being. And taking it in a different light, it will appear a supposition much less natural, or rather altogether unnatural. Succession in existence, implying the successive annihilation of individuals, is indeed a very natural conception. But then it is intimately connected with frail and dependent beings; and cannot, without the utmost violence to the conception, be applied to the Maker of all things, to whom we naturally ascribe perpetual existence, and every other perfection. And therefore, as this hypothesis of a perpetual succession, when applied to the Deity, is destitute of any support from reason and is contradicted by nature, there can be no reason for adopting it. The noted proposition, That primos in orbe Deos fecit timor,2 may be objected; as it will be thought unphilosophical, to multiply causes for our belief of a Deity, when fear alone must have that effect. For my part, I have little doubt of the truth of the proposition taken in its proper sense, that fear is the foundation of our belief of invisible malevolent powers; for evidently fear can never be the cause of our belief of a benevolent Deity. There is unfolded in another Essay,* the cause of our dread of malevolent invisible powers. And I am persuaded, that nothing has been more hurtful to religion, than an irregular propensity in our nature to dread such powers. Superficial thinkers are apt to confound these phantoms of the imagination, with the objects of our true and genuine perceptions: and finding so little reality in the former, they are apt to conclude the latter also to be a fiction. Man in his original savage state, is a shy and timorous animal, dreading every new object, and attributing every extraordinary event to some invisible malevolent power. Led at the same time by mere appetite, he hath little idea of regularity and order, of the morality of actions, or of the beauty of nature. In this state he multiplies his invisible malevolent powers, without entertaining any notion of a supreme Being, the Creator of all things. As man ripens in society and is benefited by the good-will of others, his dread of new objects gradually lessens. He begins to perceive regularity and order in the course of nature. He becomes sharp-sighted, in discovering causes from effects, and effects from causes. He ascends gradually through the different orders of beings and their operations, till he discovers the Deity, who is the cause of all things. When we run over the history of man, it will be found to hold true, that savages, who are the most possessed with the opinion of evil spirits, are extremely deficient in the knowledge of a Deity; and that as all civilized nations, without exception, entertain the firm belief of a Deity, so the dread of evil spirits wears out in every nation, in proportion to their gradual advances in social intercourse. And this leads to a reflection, which cannot fail to touch every thinking person. Man in a savage state, is hurried on by every gust of passion, and by every phantom of the imagination. His powers and faculties are improved by education and good culture; he acquires deep knowledge in the nature of things, and learns to distinguish truth from falsehood. And as he increaseth in knowledge and in the discerning faculties, his conviction of a Deity becomes proportionally more clear and authoritative. The universal conviction of a Deity, which hath spread through all civilized nations, cannot possibly be without a foundation in our nature. To insist that it may, is to insist that an effect may be without an adequate cause. Reason cannot be an adequate cause; because our reasonings upon this subject, must at best be abstruse, and beyond the comprehension of the generality of mankind. Our knowledge therefore of the Deity, must be founded on intuition and perception, which are common to mankind. And it is agreeable to the analogy of nature, that God should discover himself to his rational creatures after this manner. If this subject be involved in any degree of obscurity, writers are to blame, who, in a matter of so great importance, ought to give no quarter to inaccuracy of thought or expression. But it is an error common among writers, to substitute reason in place of intuitive perception. Sense working silently and without effort, is generally overlooked: and we must find are a son for every thing we judge to be true, without considering that every sort of reasoning must be founded on axioms or principles that are intuitively certain. Instances of this wrong bias are not unfrequent even in mathematics, the most perfect of all sciences. In the first Book of Euclid, more than one self-evident proposition are brought under the form of a demonstration.3 It is by the same wrong bias, that the principles of morality have been involved in obscurity by several writers. The qualities of right and wrong in human actions, are known to us intuitively by means of the moral sense; and far from being discoverable by reason, they are axioms or principles upon which every reasoning upon moral subjects must be founded. I need no better instance of this observation, than Doctor Clarke’s demonstration, as it is termed, of the unalterable obligation of moral duty, mentioned above, page 67, which consists in words merely without any distinct meaning, or rather without any meaning.4 And even after the long neglected anatomy of the mind came to be more the subject of inquiry than formerly, the moral sense was not soon recognized. Hutcheson discovered a sense of beauty and deformity in things, and particularly in human actions; but he was mistaken in holding that sense to be the moral sense. The sense of right and wrong in actions passed unobserved by that author, though it is what ought only to be termed the moral sense, as being the director of our conduct, informing us what we ought to do, and what we ought not to do. In the same way, our knowledge of the Deity has been involved in much obscurity. Writers reason without end about a Deity and his attributes, over-looking the light of nature, by which we discover the Deity not only from his works, insisted on above, but from an innate perception of his existence, made evident in Sketches of the History of Man, which makes a branch of our nature, no less evidently than does the sense of right and wrong in actions. With respect to the deification of heroes, which was the practice in the first stages of society, it is a common opinion, that, in the eagerness of a too forward gratitude to those who had in any degree contributed to the better accommodation of life, their countrymen no sooner saw them removed by death from the society of men than they exalted them to that of the gods. I cannot relish this conjecture. The notions of immortality among savages are generally obscure; and when a man is cut off by a natural or violent death, he is not conceived to be still alive, far less to be translated into a higher order of beings. It is true, that among savages, where every new invention makes a shining figure, a man who contributes in any measure to the accommodation of society, is honoured during his life, and remembred after his death; and to honour the memory of such men, feasts and ceremonies have been instituted. It is not reasonable to believe, that at first the matter was carried any further. That among savages the first notions of supernatural powers a rose from fear, is extremely probable. In the gradual improvement of society, regularity, order, and good design, came in some obscure manner to be recognized in the affairs of this world; and this naturally suggested the superintendance of benevolent powers, perhaps of the sun or moon, those exalted and illustrious beings. This apparently was the first dawn of internal conviction with respect to the Deity. So far is certain, that Polytheism was recognized before the unity of the Deity was discovered by our more enlightened faculties. In this first stage of religion, superior beings, according to the notions entertained of them, were much limited in power, as well as in benevolence. Men could not strain their thoughts to conceive much more power or benevolence than existed in their own species. Such confined and groveling notions favoured the system of Polytheism; for we are apt to supply by numbers what is wanting in energy: and as fear had multiplied the number of malevolent powers, hope was no less fruitful with respect to those who were supposed benevolent. Then it was, and no sooner, that good men, held in remembrance by solemn institutions, were, in the fond imagination of their countrymen, advanced a step higher, and converted into genii, or tutelary deities. They were still supposed to superintend the affairs of mankind, and in their exalted state to continue that good-will to their country which was so remarkable during their existence in the human shape. These appear to be the natural gradations of the mind in its progress toward the Deity. Having settled the belief of a Deity upon its proper basis, we shall proceed to take a general view of the attributes which belong to that great Being. And, first, Unity of the DeityWith regard to this and all the other attributes of the Deity, it ought to be no discouraging reflection, that we cannot attain an adequate idea of them. The Deity is too grand an object to be comprehended in any perfect manner by the human mind. We have not words nor ideas which any way correspond to the manner of his existence. Did even some good angel undertake to be our instructor, we would still be at a loss to form a distinct conception of it. Power, intelligence, and goodness, are attributes which we can comprehend. But with regard to the nature of the Deity in general and the manner of his existence, we must be satisfied in this mortal state to remain in the dark. The attribute of Unity, is, what of all we have the least certainty about by the light of nature. It is not inconsistent, that there should be two or more beings of the very highest order, whose essence and actions may be so regulated by the nature of the beings themselves, as to be altogether concordant. In truth, the nature of the Divine Being is so far out of our reach, that we must be absolutely at a loss to apply to it unity or multiplicity. This property is applicable to individual things; but we know not that it is applicable to the Deity. Yet if we may venture to judge of a matter so remote, we ought to conclude in favour of unity. We perceive the necessity of one eternal Being; and it is sufficient, that there is not the smallest foundation from sense or reason, to suppose more than one. Power and Intelligence of the DeityThese two attributes I join together, because the same reflection is applicable to both. The wisdom and power necessarily supposed in the creation and government of this world, are so far beyond the reach of our comprehension, that they may justly be styled infinite. We can ascribe no bounds to either: and we have no other notion of infinite, but that to which we can ascribe no bounds. Benevolence of the DeityThe mixed nature of the events that fall under our observation, seems to point out a mixed cause, partly good and partly ill. The author of Philosophical Essays concerning human understanding, in his eleventh essay, Of the practical consequences of natural religion, puts in the mouth of an Epicurean philosopher a very shrewd argument against the benevolence of the Deity. The sum is what follows: If the cause be known only by the effect, we never ought to assign to it any qualities, beyond what are precisely requisite to produce the effect. Allowing, therefore, God to be the author of the existence and order of the universe; it follows, that he possesses that precise degree of power, intelligence, and benevolence, which appears in his workmanship. And hence, from the present scene of things, apparently so full of ill and disorder, it is concluded, “That we have no foundation for ascribing any attribute to the Deity, but what is precisely commensurate with the imperfection of this world.” With regard to mankind, he reasons differently. In works of human art and contrivance, it is admitted, that we can advance from the effect to the cause, and returning back from the cause, that we conclude new effects, which have not yet existed. Thus, for instance, from the sight of a half-finished building, surrounded with heaps of stones and mortar, and all the instruments of masonry, we naturally conclude, that the building will be finished, and receive all the farther improvements which art can bestow upon it. But the foundation of this reasoning is plainly, that man is a being whom we know by experience, and whose motives and designs we are acquainted with, which enables us to draw many inferences, concerning what may be expected from him. But did we know man only from the single work or production which we examine, we could not argue in this manner; because our knowledge of all the qualities which we ascribe to him, being, upon that supposition, derived from the work or production, it is impossible they could point anything farther, or be the foundation of any new inference.5 Supposing reason to be our only guide in these matters, which is supposed in this argument, it appears to be just. By no inference of reason, can I conclude any power or benevolence in the cause, beyond what is displayed in the effect. But this is no wonderful discovery. The philosopher might have carried his argument a greater length: he might have observed, even with regard to a man I am perfectly acquainted with, that I cannot conclude by any chain of reasoning, that he will finish the house he has begun. It is to no purpose to urge his temper and disposition; for from what principle of reason can I infer, that these will continue the same as formerly? He might further have observed, that the difficulty is greater with regard to a man I know nothing of, supposing him to have begun the building. For what foundation have I in reason to transfer the qualities of the persons I am acquainted with to a stranger, which surely is not performed by any process of reasoning? There is still a wider step; which is, that reason will not support me in attributing to the Deity even that precise degree of power, intelligence and benevolence, which appears in his workmanship. I find no inconsistency in supposing, that a blind and undesigning cause may be productive of excellent effects: it will I presume be difficult to produce a demonstration to the contrary. And supposing, at the instant of operation, the Deity to have been endued with these properties, can we make out, by any argument a priori, that they are still subsisting in him? Nay, this same philosopher might have gone a great way farther, by observing, when any thing comes into existence, that, by no process of reasoning, can we so much as infer any cause of its existence. But happily for man, where reason fails him, sense and intuition come to his assistance. By means of principles implanted in our nature, we are enabled to make the foregoing conclusions and inferences; as at full length is made out in some of the foregoing Essays. More particularly, power discovered in any object, is intuitively perceived to be a permanent quality, like figure or extension.* Upon this account, power discovered by a single effect, is considered as sufficient to produce the like effects, without end. Further, great power may be discovered from a small effect; which holds even in bodily strength, as where an action is performed readily and without effort. This is equally remarkable in wisdom and intelligence: a very short argument may unfold correctness of judgment, and a deep reach. The same holds in art and skill: examining a slight piece of workmanship done with taste, we readily observe, that the artist was equal to a greater task. But it is most of all remarkable in the quality of benevolence: even from a single effect produced by an unknown cause, which appears adapted to some good purpose, we necessarily attribute to this cause benevolence, as well as power and wisdom.† The perception is indeed but weak, when it ariseth from a single effect; but still it is a perception of pure benevolence, without any mixture of malice; for such contradictory qualities are not readily ascribed to the same cause. There indeed may be a difficulty, where the effect is of a mixed nature, partly ill partly good; or where a variety of effects, having these opposite characters, proceed from the same cause. Such intricate cases cannot fail to embarrass us; but as we must form some sentiment, we ascribe benevolence or malevolence to the cause, from the prevalence of the one or other quality in the effects. If evil make the greater figure, we perceive the cause to be malevolent, notwithstanding opposite instances of goodness. If, upon the whole, goodness be supereminent, we perceive the cause to be benevolent; and are not moved by the cross instances of evil, which for ought we know may be necessary for producing on the whole the greatest quantity of good. In a word, it is the tendency of our nature to reject a mixed character made up of benevolence and malevolence, unless where it is necessarily pressed home upon us by an equality of opposite effects; and in every subject that cannot be reached by the reasoning faculty, we justly rely on the tendency of our nature, as the best proof the subject can admit of. Such are the conclusions that we can draw; not indeed from reason, but from intuitive perception. So little are we acquainted with the essence or nature of things, that we cannot establish these conclusions upon any argument a priori. Nor would it be of great benefit to mankind, to have these conclusions demonstrated to them; few having either leisure or talents to comprehend such profound speculations. It is more wisely ordered, that they appear to us intuitively certain. This is a solid foundation for our conviction of the benevolence of the Deity. If, from a single effect, pure benevolence in the cause can be perceived; what doubt can there be of the pure benevolence of the Deity, when we survey his works, pregnant with good-will to mankind? Innumerable instances of things wisely adapted to good purposes, give us the strongest conviction of the goodness as well as wisdom of the Deity; which is joined with the firmest persuasion of constancy and uniformity in his operations. A few cross instances cannot make us waver. When we know so little of nature, it would be surprising indeed, if we should be able to account for every event and its final tendency. Unless we were let into the counsels of the Almighty, we can never hope to unravel all the mysteries of the creation. I shall add some other considerations to confirm our belief of the pure benevolence of the Deity. And first, the independent and all-sufficient nature of the Deity, sets him above all suspicion of being liable either to envy, or to the pursuit of any interest, other than the general interest of his creatures. Wants, weakness, and opposition of interests, are the causes of ill-will among men. From all such influences the Deity is exempted. And therefore, unless we suppose him less perfect than the creatures he hath made, we cannot suppose that there is any degree of malice in his nature. There is a second consideration, which hath always afforded me great satisfaction. Did natural evil prevail in reality, as much as it doth in appearance, we must expect, that the enlargement of natural knowledge should daily discover new instances of bad, as well as of good intention. But the fact is directly otherways. Our discoveries ascertain us more and more of the benevolence of the Deity, by unfolding beautiful final causes without number; while the appearances of ill intention gradually vanish, like a mist when the sun breaks out. Many things are now found to be curious in their contrivance and productive of good effects, which formerly appeared useless, or perhaps of ill tendency. And, in the gradual progress of learning, we have the strongest reason to expect, that many more discoveries of the kind will be made. This very consideration, had we nothing else to rely on, ought to make us rest with assurance upon the intuitive conviction we have of the benevolence of the Deity; without giving way to the perplexity of a few cross appearances, which, in matters so far beyond our comprehension, ought rationally to be ascribed to our own ignorance, not to any malevolence in the Deity. In the progress of learning, the time may come, we have great reason to hope it will come, when all doubts and perplexities of this kind shall be fully cleared up. I satisfy myself with suggesting but one other consideration, That inferring a mixed nature in the Deity from events which cannot be clearly reconciled to benevolence, is, at best, new-moulding the Manichean system, by substituting in place of it, one really less plausible. For I can with greater facility form a conception of two opposite powers governing the universe, than of one power endued with great goodness and great malevolence, principles so repugnant to each other. It thus appears, that our conviction of the attribute of pure benevolence hath a wide and solid foundation. It is impressed upon us by intuitive perception, by every discovery we make in the science of nature, and by every argument suggested by reason and reflection. There is but one objection of any weight that can be moved against it, arising from the difficulty of accounting for natural and moral evil. It is observed above, that the objection, however it may puzzle, ought not to shake our faith in this attribute; because an argument from ignorance can never be a convincing argument in any case. This therefore, in its strongest light, appears but in the shape of a difficulty, not of a solid objection. At the same time, as the utmost labour of thought is well bestowed upon a subject so interesting, I shall proceed to some reflections, which may tend to satisfy us, that the instances commonly given of natural and moral evil, are not so inconsistent with pure benevolence, as at first sight may be imagined. One preliminary point must be settled, which I presume will be admitted without much hesitation. It certainly will not be thought inconsistent in any degree with the pure benevolence of the Deity, that the world is filled with an endless variety of creatures, gradually ascending in the scale of being, from the most groveling to the most glorious. To think that this affords an argument against pure benevolence, is in effect to think, that all inanimate beings ought to be endued with life and motion, and that all animate beings ought to be angels. If at first view it shall be thought, that infinite power and goodness cannot stop short of absolute perfection in their operations, and that the work of creation must be confined to the highest order of beings, in the highest perfection; this thought will soon be corrected, by considering, that by this supposition a great void is left, which, according to the present system of things, is filled with beings, and with life and motion. And, supposing the world to be replenished with the highest order of beings created in the highest degree of perfection, it is certainly an act of more extensive benevolence, to complete the work of creation by the addition of an infinity of creatures less perfect, than to leave a great blank betwixt beings of the highest order and nothing. The imperfection then of a created being, abstractly considered, impeaches none of the attributes of the Deity, whether power, wisdom, or benevolence. And if so, neither can pain abstractly considered be an impeachment, as far as it is the natural and necessary consequence of imperfection. The government of the world is carried on by general laws, which produce constancy and uniformity in the operations of nature. Among many reasons for this, we can clearly discover one, which is unfolded in a former Essay,* that were not nature uniform and constant, men and other sensible beings would be altogether at a loss how to conduct themselves. Our nature is adjusted to these general laws; and must therefore be subjected to all their varieties, whether beneficial or hurtful. We are made sensitive beings, and therefore equally capable of pleasure and pain. And it must follow from the very nature of the thing, that delicacy of perception, which is the source of much pleasure, may be equally the source of much pain. It is true, we cannot pronounce it to be a contradiction, that a being should be susceptible of pleasure only and not of pain. But no argument can be founded upon this supposition but what will conclude, that a creature such as man ought to have no place in the scale of beings; which surely will not be maintained: for it is still better, that man be as he is, than not to be at all. It is further to be observed in general, that aversion to pain is not so great, at least in mankind, as to counterbalance every other appetite. Most men would purchase an additional share of happiness, at the expence of some pain. And therefore it can afford no argument against the benevolence of the Deity, that created beings from their nature and condition are capable of pain, supposing upon the whole their life to be comfortable. Their state is still preferable to that of inanimate matter, capable neither of pleasure nor pain. Thus it appears, even from a general view of our subject, that natural evil affords no argument against the benevolence of the Deity. And this will appear in a stronger light, when we go to particulars. It is laid open in the first Essay, that the social affections, even when most painful, are accompanied with no degree of aversion, either in the direct feeling or in subsequent reflection. We value ourselves the more for being so constituted; being conscious that such a constitution is right and meet for sociable creatures. Distresses therefore of this sort cannot be called evils, when we have no aversion to them, and do not repine at them. And if these be laid aside, what may be justly termed natural evils, are reduced with in a small compass. They will be found to proceed necessarily, and by an established train of causes and effects, either from the imperfection of our nature, or from the operation of general laws. Pain is not distributed thro’ the world blindly, or with any appearance of malice; but ends, proportions, and measures, are observed in the distribution. Sensible marks of good tendency are conspicuous, even in the harshest dispensations of Providence; and the good tendency of general laws, is a sure pledge of benevolence, even in those instances where we may be puzzled to explain their good effects. One thing is certain, that there is in man a natural principle to submit to these general laws, and their consequences. And were this principle cultivated as it ought to be, men would have the same consciousness of right conduct in submitting to the laws of the natural world, that they have in submitting to the laws of the moral world, and would as little repine at the distresses of the one kind, as at those of the other. But justice is not done to the subject, unless we proceed to show, that pain and distress are productive of manifold good ends, and that they are in a measure necessary to the present system. In the first place, pain is necessary, as a monitor of what is hurtful and dangerous to life. Every man is trusted with the care of his own preservation; and he would be ill qualified for that trust, were he left entirely to the guidance of reason: he would die for want of food, were it not for the pain of hunger: and, but for the pain arising from fear, he would precipitate himself every moment into the most destructive enterprises. In the next place, pain is the great sanction of laws, both human and divine: there would be no order nor discipline in the world without it. In the third place, the distresses and disappointments that arise from the uncertainty of seasons, from the variable tempers of those we are connected with, and from other cross accidents, are wonderfully well adapted to our constitution, by keeping our hopes and fears in constant agitation. Man is an active being, and is not in his element but when in variety of occupation. A constant and uniform tenor of life without hopes or fears, would soon bring on satiety and disgust. Pain therefore is necessary, not only to enhance our pleasures, but to keep us in motion.* And it is needless to observe a second time, that to complain of man’s constitution in this respect, is in other words to complain, that there is such a creature as man in the scale of being. To mention but one other thing, pain and distress have a wonderful tendency to advance the interests of society. Grief, compassion, and sympathy, are strong connecting principles, by which every individual is made subservient to the general good of the whole species. I shall close this branch of my subject with a general reflection, which is reserved to the last place, because in my apprehension it is a decisive argument for the benevolence of the Deity. When we run over what we know of the formation and government of this world, the instances are without number, of good intention and of consummate wisdom in adjusting things to good ends and purposes. And it is equally true, that as we advance in knowledge, scenes of this kind multiply upon us. This observation is enforced above. But I now observe, that there is not a single instance to be met with, which can be justly ascribed to malevolence or bad intention. Many evils may be pointed out; evils at least as to us. But when the most is made of such instances, they appear to be consequences only from general laws which regard the whole more than particulars; and therefore are not marks of malevolence in the Author and Governor of the world. Were there any doubt about the tendency of such instances, it would be more rational to ascribe them to want of power, than want of benevolence, which is so conspicuous in other instances. But we cannot rationally ascribe them to either, but to the pre-established order and constitution of things, and to the necessary imperfection of all created beings. And after all, laying the greatest weight upon these natural evils that can reasonably be demanded, the account stands thus. Instances without number of benevolence in the frame and government of this world, so direct and clear as not to admit of the slightest doubt. On the other side, natural evils are stated, which at best are very doubtful instances of malevolence, and may be ascribed, perhaps obscurely, to another cause. In balancing this account, where the evil appearances are so far outnumbered by the good, why should we hesitate to ascribe pure benevolence to the Deity, and to conclude these evils to be necessary defects in a good system; especially when it is so repugnant to our natural perceptions, to ascribe great benevolence and great malevolence to the same being? It will be remarked, that in answering the foregoing objection to the benevolence of the Deity, I have avoided urging any argument from our future existence; though it affords a fruitful field of comfort, greatly over-balancing the transitory evils of this life. But I should scarce think it fair reasoning, to urge such topics upon this subject; which would be arguing in a circle; because the benevolence of the Deity is the only solid foundation upon which we can build a future existence. Having discussed what occurred upon natural evil, we come now to consider moral evil as an objection against the benevolence of the Deity. And some writers carry this objection so far, as to conclude, that God is the cause of moral evil, since he hath given man a constitution, by which moral evil doth and must abound. It is certainly no satisfying answer to this objection, that moral evil is the necessary consequence of human liberty; when it is a very possible supposition, that man might have been endued with a moral sense, so lively and strong as to be absolutely authoritative over his actions. Waving therefore the argument from human liberty, we must look about for a more solid answer to the objection; which will not be difficult, when we consider this matter as laid down in a former essay.* It is there made out, it is hoped, to the satisfaction of the reader, that human actions are all of them directed by general laws, which have an operation no less infallible, than those laws have which govern mere matter. Thus, as all things in the moral as well as material world, proceed according to settled laws established by the Almighty, we have a just ground of conviction, that all matters are by Providence ordered in the best manner; and therefore that even human vices and frailties are made to answer wise and benevolent purposes. Every thing possesses its proper place in the Divine plan. All our actions contribute equally to carry on the great and good designs of our Maker; and therefore there is nothing which in his sight is ill, at least nothing which is ill upon the whole. Considering the objection in the forgoing light, which is the true one, it loses its force. For it certainly will not be maintained as an argument against the goodness of the Deity, that he endued man with a sense of moral evil; which in reality is one of the greatest blessings bestowed upon him, and which eminently distinguishes him from the brute creation. But if the objection be turned into another shape, and it be demanded, Why was not every man endued with so strong a sense of morality, as to be completely authoritative over all his principles of action, which would prevent much remorse to himself, and much mischief to others? it is answered, first, That this would not be sufficient for an exact regularity of conduct, unless man’s judgment of right and wrong were also infallible. For, as long as we differ about what is yours and what is mine, injustice must be the consequence in many instances however innocent we be. But in the next place, to complain of a defect in the moral sense, is to complain that we are not perfect creatures. And if this complaint be well founded, we may with equal justice complain, that our understanding is but moderate, and that in general our powers and faculties are limited. Why should imperfection in the moral sense be urged as an objection, when all our senses, internal and external, are imperfect? In short, if this complaint be in any measure just, it must go the length, as above observed, to prove, that it is not consistent with the benevolence of the Deity to create such a being as man. After putting the last hand to this book for a third edition, Dialogues by David Hume, Esq.; concerning Natural Religion were published.6 Their purpose is to illustrate what the author had laid down on that subject in his former works, without adding any new matter. He has given a satisfactory reason for preferring the dialogue form; which is, that dialogue or conversation is the best suited to loose reasoning upon subjects obscure and uncertain. The execution justifies his choice; for the subject is treated in a more pleasing manner than strict and concise reasoning can admit. He has attained the true spirit of dialogue: the characters are finely supported, the stile animated, and the arguments properly enforced. One thing indeed surprised me, that there is not the slightest notice taken of the evidence of our senses for the existence of a Deity, one urged above, another in Sketches of the History of Man, vol. 4th.7 These books are in the hands of every one, and could not have been unknown to Mr. Hume. Did he think them so trifling as to merit nothing but contempt? I cannot believe it. May I not then suspect him of an artifice, not uncommon, That if an argument cannot be answered, to say nothing about it. In another point Mr. Hume is equally liable to censure. An argument strenuously insisted on in the dialogues, is, that supposing a Deity unbounded in power and intelligence, the prevalence of evil both natural and moral is a clear proof that he must be deficient in benevolence.8 These evils are displayed at great length and with persuasive eloquence; but not a word of what is above urged on the other side; and as little of what is urged in Sketches of the History of Man,* where it is made evident, that evil both natural and moral are so far beneficial to man, as that without them he would be a most abject creature. Doth not our author’s silence in this instance as well as in the former, seem as if he had been more studious of victory than of truth? As censure is to me not an agreeable amusement, I shall add but a single word. In explaining the system of nature, Mr. Hume, by an unaccountable bias, professes to have no reliance on the evidence of our senses. And by this strange opinion, he has been misled into many an inextricable labyrinth. Can it be thought wonderful, that an author who rejects the evidence of his senses for the existence of the objects around him, should think such evidence insufficient for the existence of a Deity?i RecapitulationWe have thus gone through a variety of subjects, not without labour and expence of thought. And now, like a traveller, who, after examining the different parts of a country, ascends some eminence to review the whole; let us refresh ourselves, by looking back, and enjoying the discoveries we have made. The subject of these Essays is man. We have formed no imaginary schemes, for exalting or for depressing his nature. The inquiry has been, Whether his capacities and powers suit his present circumstances, and fit him for acting a proper part in this life? We begin with examining some of the great springs of action. Upon accurate scrutiny, it is found, that self-love or desire of good, is not our sole principle of action; but that we are furnished beside with a variety of impelling powers. Mingled in society for the convenience of mutual help, it is necessary that we feel for each other. But as the feeling for the distress of others, cannot but be painful, here is traced an admirable contrivance to reconcile us to this virtuous pain, by removing that aversion to pain, which in all other cases is an overruling principle. This explains a seemingly strange phaenomenon, that we should seek entertainment from representations that immerse us in affliction. From man as a social, we proceed to him as a moral agent. We find him sensible of beauty, in different ranks and orders; and eminently sensible of it, in its highest order, that of sentiment, action, and character. But the sense of moral beauty is not alone sufficient. The importance of morality requires some stronger principle to guard it; some checks and restraints from vice, more severe than mere disapprobation. These are not wanting. To the sense of beauty, is superadded a sense of obligation, a perception of right and wrong, which constitutes a law within us.* This law in joins the primary virtues, those which are essential to society, under the strictest sanctions. Pain, the strongest monitor, is here employed to check transgression; whilst in the sublimer more heroic virtues, where strict obligation ends, pleasure is employed to reward the performance. No action is made a duty, to which we are not antecedently disposed by some principle. An exact proportion is maintained betwixt the strength of our internal principles, and their usefulness. From self, the object of our most vigorous principles, affection spreads through all our connections with others; till, by distance of connection, it ceases to be felt. After it is thus lost, by the distance of particular objects, nature revives its force, by directing it to the abstract idea of a public and a whole; which idea, though faint and obscure in the conception, is yet equal to any of our ideas in force and energy. Man, by this artful contrivance is fitted for acting a proper and useful part in the system to which he belongs. But this system could not be regulated upon any pre-adjusted plan, the actions of man could not proceed with any order nor be subject to any government, unless all men were determined by motives. At the same time, man could not answer the purposes of active life, without being a free agent. Having made out, that morals are established on an immoveable foundation, we proceed to show, by what inward powers we are led to the knowledge and belief of some of the most important truths; particularly, the existence of the Deity. To this we pave the way, by a full preparation of reasoning. We first consider the nature of that act of the mind which is termed belief; of which the immediate foundation is the testimony of our senses. If the testimony they give to the real existence of a material world, be a mere illusion, as some have held, all belief founded on our own perceptions is at an end. Hence appears the absurdity of denying the evidence of our senses. And here we find full satisfaction. In other cases, where there is any thing like artifice in the conduct of nature, means are afforded, both of discovering the truth, and of discovering the end for which truth is artfully concealed; for nature never deceives us but for our good. Dispersing, with no great labour, that philosophic dust which sceptics have raised about material substance, we find upon examination that we have a conception of it, no less clear than of qualities; both being equally displayed to us by the sense of sight. But belief is not more solidly founded upon our external senses, than upon our internal feelings. Not the greatest sceptic ever doubted of his own personal identity, continued through the successive periods of life; of his being the same man this year he was the last: which, however, is a discovery made by no reasoning; resting wholly upon an inward sense and consciousness of the fact. Upon a like foundation rests our belief of cause and effect. No relation is more familiar than this, nor sooner takes hold of the mind. Yet certain it is, that no reasoning, no experience, can discover the power or energy of what we term a cause, when we attempt to trace it to its source. It is necessary for the well-being of man, first, that he should perceive the objects which exist around him; and next, that he should perceive them in their true state, not detached and loose, but as causes and effects, as producing and produced. Nature hath furnished us with senses for the perception of objects, not only as simply existing, but as existing thus related to each other. Nor without such faculties could we ever have attained the idea of cause and effect. The same provision is made by nature, in another case, no less remarkable. Our senses can only inform us of objects as presently existing. Yet nothing is more common, than from our knowledge of the present, and our experience of the past, to reason about the future. Now, reasonings about futurity, which have extensive influence on our conduct, would be utterly destitute of a foundation, were we not endued with a sense of uniformity and constancy in the operations of nature: an innate sense dictates to us, that the future will be like the past. Thus there is established a marvellous harmony betwixt our perceptions and the course of events. In the above-mentioned instances, we attribute to our boasted reason, what in truth is performed by sense. We act upon its informations, with equal confidence as we do upon the clearest conclusions of reason. Nature is thus our preceptor in things the most necessary to be known. But this is not all. We pursue the argument into an intuitive perception of the Deity. He hath not left us to collect his existence from abstract or perplexed arguments, but makes us perceive intuitively that he exists. When external objects are presented to our view, some are immediately distinguished to be effects, not by any process or deduction of reasoning, but by an internal sense, which gives us the perception of cause and effect. In the same manner, this whole world is seen to be an effect produced by some invisible designing cause. The evidence of this perception cannot be rejected, without introducing universal scepticism; and without obliging us to doubt of things, of which no man ever doubted. For, as in viewing an external object, the sense of sight produces the idea of substance as well as of quality; as by an intuitive perception we discover some things to be effects requiring a cause; as from experience of the past, we judge of the future; in fine, as by the sense of identity the reader is conscious of being the same person he was when he began to read; as all these conclusions upon which mankind rest with the fullest assurance, are the dictates of senses external and internal; in the very same way, and upon the same evidence, we conclude the existence of a first Supreme Cause. Reason gives us all its aid, both to confirm the certainty of his being, and to discover his perfections. From effects great and good display’d through the universe, we necessarily infer the cause to be both great and good. Mixed or imperfect qualities cannot belong to that cause. The difficulties from apparent evil, are found capable of a satisfactory solution. All the general laws of the universe are confessedly wise and good. Pain is found not to be useful only, but necessary, in the present system. If this be an argument of an imperfect state, must it not however be admitted, that somewhere in the scale of existence, an imperfect order of beings must be found? And why not man such a being? unless we extravagantly demand, that, to prove the benevolence of the Deity, all the possible orders of being should be advanced to the top of the scale, and all be left void and waste below; no life, no existence, allowed, except what is perfect. The more we know of nature, the less of evil appears. New discoveries of wisdom, order, and good intention, are the never-failing effects of enlarged knowledge; an intimation, not obscure, of its being owing to our imperfect and bounded views that evil is supposed to take place at all. Now, when we consider all these things in one complex view, so many striking instances of final causes, such undeniable proofs both of wise design and skilful execution: banishing cold distrust of the great universal cause, are we not raised to the highest admiration! And doth it not encourage us to attempt a higher strain? For, do not all these wonders, O Eternal Mind, Sovereign Architect of all, form a hymn to thy praise!9 If in the dead inanimate works of nature, thou art seen; if in the verdure of the fields and the azure of the skies, the ignorant rustic admire thy creative power; how blind must that man be, who, contemplating his living structure, his moral frame, discerns not thy forming hand? What various and complicated machinery is here! and regulated with what exquisite art! While man pursues happiness as his chief aim, thou bendest self-love into the social direction. Thou infusest the generous principle, which makes him feel for sorrows not his own: nor feels he only, but, strange indeed! takes delight in rushing into foreign misery; and with pleasure goes to drop the painful tear over real or imaginary wo. Thy divine hand thus formed the connecting tye, and by sympathy linked man to man; that nothing might be solitary in thy world, but all tend toward mutual association. For that great end man is not left to a loose or arbitrary range of will. Thy wise decree hath erected within him a throne for virtue. There thou hast not decked her with beauty only to his admiring eye, but hast thrown around her the awful effulgence of authority divine. Her persuasions have the force of a precept; and her precepts are a law indispensable. Man feels himself bound by this law, strict and immutable. And yet the privilege of supererogating is left: a field opened for free and generous action; in which, performing a glorious course, he may attain the high reward by thee allotted of inward honour and self-estimation. Nothing is made superfluously severe, nothing left dangerously loose, in thy moral institution; but every active principle made to know its proper sphere. In just proportion, man’s affections spread from himself to objects around him. Where the rays of affection, too widely scattered, begin to lose their warmth: collecting them again by the idea of a public, a country, or the universe, thou rekindlest the dying flame. Converging eagerly to this point, behold how intense they glow! and man, though indifferent to each remote particular, burns with zeal for the whole. All things are by thee pre-ordained, great Mover of all! Throughout the wide expanse, every living creature runs a destin’d course. While all under a law irresistible fulfil thy decrees, man alone seems to himself exempt; free to turn and bend his course at will. Yet is he not exempt; but ministers to thy decree omnipotent, as much as the rolling sun, or ebbing flood. What strange contradictions are in thy great scheme reconciled! what glaring opposites made to agree! Necessity and liberty meet in the same agent, yet interfere not. Man, though free from constraint, is under bonds. He is a necessary agent, and yet acts with perfect liberty. Within the heart of man thou hast placed thy lamp, to direct his otherways uncertain steps. By this light, he is not only assured of the existence and entertained with all the glories of the material world, but is enabled to penetrate into the recesses of nature. He perceives objects joined together by the mysterious link of cause and effect. The connecting principle, though he can never explain, he is made to perceive; and is thus instructed to refer even things unknown, to their proper origin. Endued with a prophetic spirit, he foretels things to come. Where reason is unavailing, sense comes in aid; and bestows a power of divination, which discovers the future by the past. Thus thou gradually liftest him up to the knowledge of thyself. The plain and simple sense, which in the most obvious effect reads and perceives a cause, brings him straight to thee, the first great Cause, the ancient of days, the eternal source of all. Thou presentest thyself to us, and we cannot avoid thee. We must doubt of our own existence, if we can doubt of thine. We see thee by thine own light. We see thee, not existing only, but in wisdom and in benevolence supreme, as in existence first. As spots in the sun’s bright orb, so in the universal plan, scattered evils are lost in the blaze of superabundant goodness. Even by the research of human reason, weak as it is, those seeming evils diminish and fly away apace. Objects, supposed superfluous or noxious, have assumed a beneficial aspect. How much more, to thine all-penetrating eye must all appear excellent and fair! It must be so.—We cannot doubt. Neither imperfection nor malice dwell with thee. Thou appointest as salutary, what we lament as painful. Even the follies and vices of men minister to thy wise designs: and as at the beginning of days thou sawest, so thou seest and pronouncest still, that every thing thou hast made is good. finis appendixSignificant Variant ReadingsKames published three editions of his Essays (1751, 1758, and 1779). The first two editions were published anonymously; in the third edition Kames signed his name to the Preface. With each new edition, Kames made many changes, some of them stylistic, some of them concerning substantive issues. In revising his text for the second edition (of 1758), Kames focused on Part I, and especially on the “Liberty and Necessity” essay, which had involved him in a heated controversy with a group of Church of Scotland ministers headed by George Anderson. Many of the essays in Part II of the second edition were reprinted with only minor stylistic changes. For the third edition (of 1779), Kames made two kinds of significant revisions. First, in terms of altering and correcting previously published material, Kames again focused his energies on Part I, and especially on Essays II and III (“Foundation and Principles of Morality” and “Liberty and Necessity”). Once again, many of the essays in Part II appeared with only minor stylistic variations. Where Kames did make a significant revision to Part II was in the addition of two entirely new essays. This appendix records some of the variations between the three editions. It does not offer a complete and exhaustive list of textual variants but rather provides a partial list based on two criteria. First, I have emphasized places in the text where Kames significantly qualifies or retracts an argument made in the previous editions. Second, I have briefly noted changes in the organization and presentation of the essays. Super script roman numerals in the text indicate where the following variations occur. Editions
Variant Readings to Part Iii.foundation and principles of moralityi. In A and B, this essay is entitled “Of the Foundations and Principles of the Law of Nature.”1 ii. In A and B (with slight stylistic variations from A), this paragraph reads: It is but a superficial account which is given of morality by most writers, that it depends upon Approbation and Disapprobation. For it is evident, that these terms are applicable to works of art, and to objects beneficial and hurtful, as well as to morality. It ought further to have been observed, that the approbation or disapprobation of actions, are feelings, very distinguishable from what relate to the objects now mentioned. Some actions are approved of as good and as fit, right and meet to be done; others are disapproved of as bad and unfit, unmeet and wrong to be done. In the one case, we approve of the actor as a good man; in the other, disapprove of him as a bad man. These feelings don’t apply to objects as fitted to an end, nor even to the end itself, except as proceeding from deliberate intention. When a piece of work is well executed, we approve of the artificer for his skill, not for his goodness. Several things inanimate, as well as animate, serve to extreme good ends. We approve of these ends as useful in themselves, but not as morally fit and right, where they are not considered as the result of intention.2 iii. This paragraph was added to C.3 iv. In A, the next two paragraphs read: Upon a small degree of reflection, it will appear, that the whole system of morals is founded upon the supposition of liberty of action.* If actions were understood to be necessary, and no way under our power or controul, we could never conceive them as fit or unfit to be done; as what we are indispensibly bound to do or not to do. To have such a feeling of human actions, upon the supposition of necessity, would be as inconsistent as to have such a feeling of the actions of matter. The celebrated dispute about liberty and necessity is reserved to be discussed in a following essay. But without entering upon the subject at present, one fact is certain, that in acting we have a feeling of liberty and independency. We never do a wrong, however strong the motive be, which is not attended with a severe reflection, that we might have done otherways, and ought to have done other-ways. Nay, during the very action, in the very time of it, we have a sense of feeling of wrong, and that we ought to forbear. So that the moral sense, both in the direct feeling, and in the act of reflection, plainly supposes and implies liberty of action. This, if we mistake not, will clear the difficulty above stated. If in the moral sense be involved liberty of action, there must of consequence be the highest sense or feeling of morality where liberty is greatest. Now, in judging of human actions, those actions, which are essential to the order and preservation of society, are considered to be in a good measure necessary. It is our strict duty to be just and honest. We are bound by a law in our nature, which we ought not to transgress. No such feeling of duty or obligation attends those actions which come under the denomination of generosity, greatness of mind, heroism. Justice, therefore, is considered as less free than generosity; and, upon that very account, we ascribe less merit to the former, than to the latter. We ascribe no merit at all to an action which is altogether involuntary; and we ascribe more or less merit, in proportion as the action is more or less voluntary. v. A does not list “love of justice,” but includes “friendship” and “love to children,” both of which are omitted from B and C.5 vi. In place of the above three paragraphs (beginning, “The surface of the globe”), A reads: Man is by nature fitted for labour, and his enjoyment lyes in action. To this internal constitution his external circumstances are finely adapted. The surface of this globe does scarce yield spontaneously food for the greatest savages; but, by labour and industry, it is made to furnish not only the conveniencies, but even the luxuries of life. In this situation, it is wisely ordered, that man should labour for himself and his family, by providing a stock of necessaries for them, before he thinks of serving others. The great principle of self-preservation directs him to this course. Now this very disposition of providing against want, which is common to man with many other creatures, involves the idea of property. The ground I cultivate, and the house I build, must be considered as mine, otherways I labour to no purpose. There is a peculiar connection betwixt a man and the fruits of his industry felt by every one; which is the very thing we call property. Were all the conveniencies of life, like air and water, provided to our hand without labour, or were we disposed to labour for the publick, without any selfish affections, there would be no sense of property, at least such a sense would be superfluous and unnecessary. But when self-preservation, the most eminent of our principles of action, directs every individual to labour for himself in the first place; man, without a sense or feeling of property, would be an absurd being. Every man therefore must have a notion of property, with regard to the things acquired by his own labour, for this is the very meaning of working for one’s self: property, so far, is necessarily connected with self-preservation. But the idea of property is essentially the same, whether it relates to myself, or to another. There is no difference, but what is felt in surveying the goods of any two in different persons. And, were it consistent for a man to have the idea of his own property, without having a notion of property in another; such a man would be a very imperfect being, and altogether unqualified for society. If it could be made out, that such is the constitution of mankind in general, I should be much disposed to believe that we were made by a fortuitous concourse of atoms. But the constitution of man is more wisely framed, and more happily adjusted to his external circumstances. Not only man, but all provident creatures who have the hoarding quality, are endued with the sense or feeling of property; which effectually secures each individual, in the enjoyment of the fruits of its own labour. And accordingly we find, in perusing the history of mankind, as far back as we have any traces of it, that there never has been, among any people or tribe, such a thing as the possession of goods in common. For, even before agriculture was invented, when lived upon the natural plenty of the earth, tho’ the plenty of pasture made separate possessions unnecessary, yet individuals had their own cattle, and enjoyed the produce of their cattle separately.6 vii. A adds: Here then is property established by the constitution of our nature, antecedent to all human conventions. We are led by nature to consider goods acquired by our industry and labour as belonging to us, and as our own. We have the sense of feeling of property, and conceive these goods to be our own, just as much as we conceive our hands, our feet, and our other members to be our own; and we have a sense of feeling equally clear of the property of others. What is here asserted is a matter of fact, of which there can be no other decisive evidence, than to appeal to every man’s own feelings. At the same time we need scarce any other proof of this fact, than that yours and mine are terms familiar with the greatest savages, and even with children. They must have feelings which correspond to these terms; otherways the terms would not be intelligible to them.7 viii. This paragraph added to B and C.8 ix. A and B end here; the remainder of this section added to C. iii.liberty and necessityi. A inserts: An extreme beautiful scene opens to our view, when we consider with what propriety the ideas, feelings, and whole constitution of the mind of man, correspond to his present state. The impressions he receives, and the notions he forms, are accurately adapted to the useful purposes of life, tho’ they do not correspond in every instance to the philosophic truth of things. It was not intended that man should make profound discoveries. He is framed to be more an active than a contemplative being; and his views both of the natural and moral world are so adjusted, as to be made subservient to correctness of action rather than of belief. Several instances there are of perceptions, which, for want of a more proper term, may be called deceitful; because they differ from the real truth. But man is not therefore misled in the least. On the contrary, the ends of life and action are better provided for by such artifice, than if these perceptions were more exact copies of their objects. In the natural world, somewhat of this kind is generally admitted by modern philosophers. It is found, that the representations of external objects, and their qualities conveyed by the senses, sometimes differ from what philosophy discovers these objects, and their qualities to be. Thus a surface appears smooth and uniform, when its roughness is not such as to be hurtful. The same surface, examined with a microscope, is found to be full of ridges and hollows. Were man endowed with a microscopic eye, the bodies that surround him, would appear as different from what they do at present, as if he were transported into another world. His ideas, upon that supposition, would indeed be more agreeable to strict truth, but they would be far less serviceable in common life. Further, it is now universally admitted, that the qualities called secondary, which we by natural instinct attribute to matter, belong not properly to matter, nor exist really without us. Colour in particular is a sort of visionary beauty, which nature has spread over all her works. It is a wonderful artifice, to present objects to us thus differently distinguished: to mark them out to the eye in various attires, so as to be best known and remembered: and to paint on the fancy, gay and lively, grand and striking, or sober and melancholy scenes: whence many of our most pleasurable and most affecting sensations arise. Yet all this beauty of colours, with which heaven and earth appear clothed, is a sort of romance and illusion. For, among external objects, to which colours are attributed by sense, there is really no other distinction, than what arises from a difference in the size and arrangement of the contingent parts, whereby the rays of light, are reflected or refracted in such different ways, as to paint various colours on the retina of the eye. From this, and other instances of the same kind which be adduced, it appears, that our perceptions some times, are less accommodated to the truth of things, than to the end for which our senses are designed. Nature, at the same time, has provided a remedy; for she seldom or never leaves us without means of discovering the deception, and arriving at the truth. And it is wonderful, that, even when we act upon these deceitful impressions, we are not betrayed into any thing that is hurtful. On the contrary, life and action are better provided for, and the ends of our being fulfilled to more advantage, than if we conducted ourselves by the strictest truth of things. Let us carry on this speculation from the natural to the moral world, and examine whether there are not here also, analogous instances of deceitful impressions. This will lead us into an unbeaten tract. We are to open a scene entirely new; which, like most other things that are new, may perhaps surprize the reader. But he will suspend his judgment, ’till he has leisurely reviewed the whole: and then let him pronounce, whether our hypothesis does not solve all the phaenomena: whether it does not tally with the nature of man, and illustrate the wisdom and goodness of the author of his nature. B also inserts the above, but replaces “for want of a better term, may be called deceitful” with “for want of a better term, must be called deceitful or delusive,”* and then adds the following footnote: *I am sensible that these terms are unhappy, because they are generally taken in a bad sense. Let it only be considered, that in Latin there is a dolus bonus [good or permissible deceit] as well as a dolus malus [bad deceit]. By the art of perspective painting, a plain surface appears raised, and an object near the eye appears at a great distance. We are deceived, it is true; but the deceit contributes to our entertainment.9 ii. In place of the remainder of this paragraph, A and B (with slight stylistic variations from A) read: We agree with the doctor, that the immediate efficient cause of motion is not the motive, but the will to act. No person ever held, that the pleasure of a summer-evening, when a man goes abroad into the fields, is the immediate cause of the motion of his feet. But what does this observation avail, when the prevailing motive, the will to act, and the action itself, are three things inseparably linked together? The motive, according to his own concession, necessarily determines the will; and the will necessarily produces the action, unless it be obstructed by some foreign force. Is not the action, by consequence, as necessary, as the will to act; tho’ the motive be the immediate cause of the will only, and not of the action or beginning of motion? What does this author gain, by showing, that we have a power of beginning motion, if that power never is, never can be, exerted, unless in consequence of some volition or choice, which is necessarily caused? But, says he, it is only a moral necessity which is produced by motives; and a moral necessity, he adds, is no necessity at all, but is consistent with the highest liberty. If these words have any meaning, the dispute is at an end. For moral necessity, being that sort of necessity which affects the mind, and the physical necessity that which affects matter, it is plain, that, in all reasonings concerning human liberty, moral necessity, and no other, is meant to be established. The laws of action, we say, which respect the human mind, are as fixed as those which respect matter. The different nature of these laws, occasions the fixed consequences of the one to be called moral, and of the other to be called physical necessity. But the idea of necessary, certain, unavoidable, equally agrees to both. And to say that moral necessity is no necessity at all, because it is not physical necessity, which is all that the doctor’s argument amounts to, is no better, than to argue, that physical necessity is no necessity at all, because it is not moral necessity. iii. A and B add another paragraph: Thus far then we have advanced in our argument, that all human actions proceed in a fixed and necessary train. Man being what he is, a creature endowed with a certain degree of understanding, certain passions and principles, and placed in certain circumstances, it is impossible he should will or chuse otherways, than in fact he wills or chuses. His mind is passive in receiving impressions of things as good or ill: according to these impressions, the last judgment of the understanding is necessarily formed; which the will, if considered as different from the last judgment of the understanding, necessarily obeys, as is fully shown; and the external action is necessarily connected with the will, or the mind’s final determination to act. iv. The next two paragraphs are new to C. v. The paragraph is new to C. vi. In place of this paragraph and the preceding paragraph, A reads: What then shall be done in this case, where truth contradicts the common feeling and natural notions of mankind; where it presents to us, with irresistible evidence, a system of universal necessity upon which we never act; but are so formed, as to conduct ourselves by a system of notions quite opposite? Shall we sacrifice abstract truth to feeling? Or shall we stand by truth, and force our feelings into compliance? Neither of these will do. Truth is too rigid to bend to mere feeling; and our feelings are incapable of being forced by speculation. The attempt is vain, pugnantia secum, frontibus adversis, componere.10 Let us be honest then. Let us fairly own, that the truth of things is on the side of necessity; but that it was necessary for man to be formed, with such feelings and notions of contingency, as would fit him for the part he has to act. This thought requires illustration. vii. From this point on, A and B each offer a different version. A reads: And, what is wonderful, tho’ in this he acts upon a false supposition, yet he is not thereby misled from the ends of action, but, on the contrary, fulfills them, to the best advantage. Long experience has made him sensible, that some things, such as the sun’s rising and setting, depend upon immutable laws. This is contradicted by no feeling, as it is no way for his benefit, that he should act upon any other supposition, Such things he reckons upon as necessary. But there are other things, which depend upon the spontaneous choices of men, or upon a concurrence of natural and moral causes. As to these, he has not knowledge enough, to foresee and determine by what law they will happen: and his ignorance of the event, is made to have the same effect upon his mind, as if the event were what we vulgarly call contingent. Its uncertainty as to him produces the same feeling, and stirs him up to the same activity, as if it were uncertain in itself, and had no determined cause of its futurition. This feeling then of contingency, and all the ideas connected with it, may be treated as secondary qualities, which have no real existence in things; but, like other secondary qualities, are made to appear as existing in events, or belonging to them, in order to serve the necessary purposes of human life. Some objections shall be considered, after discussing the other branch of the disquisition concerning liberty of action. These subjects are so closely connected, that they cannot fail to throw light upon each other. Contingency in events is analogous to liberty in actions. The one is a supposed quality of the thing; the other of the actor. The extent of human liberty is above ascertained. It consists in spontaneity, or acting according to our inclination and choice. It may be therefore distinguished from constraint, but must not be opposed to necessity. For, as has been fully shown, the mind, in the most calm choice, the most deliberate action, is necessarily, i.e. unavoidably and certainly, determined by the prepollent motive. When we examine accurately, how far our feelings correspond to this system; we find, as was hinted before, first, that, antecedent to any particular action, we generally think and reason upon the scheme of necessity. In considering or guessing at future events, we always conclude, that a man will act consistently with his character; we infer what his actions will be, from the knowledge we have of his temper, and the motives that are fitted to influence it; and never dream of any man’s having a power of acting against motives. Here we have a very weak feeling, if any at all, of liberty, as distinguished from necessity: and wisely so ordered, that a clue, as it were, might be afforded, to guide us in the labyrinth of future actions, which, were it not for the connection betwixt an action and its motive, would appear like a rope of sand, loose and unconnected; and no means left of reasoning upon, or foreseeing future actions. It is to be observed in the next place, that, during the action, the feeling begins to vary; and, unless in cases where the motive is so strong and overbearing, as to approach to the nature of constraint; unless, in these, a man has a feeling of liberty, or of a power of acting otherways than he is doing. But, in the third place, it is principally in reflecting and passing judgment upon a past action, that the feeling of liberty is sensible and strong. Then it is, that our actions are not considered as proceeding in a necessary unavoidable train: but we accuse and blame others, for not having acted the part they might and ought to have acted, and condemn ourselves, and feel remorse, for having been guilty of a wrong we might have refrained from. The operations of moral conscience plainly proceed upon this supposition, that there is such a power in man of directing his actions, as rendered it possible for the person accused, to have acted a better part. This affords an argument, which the advocates for liberty have urged in its full force, against the doctrine of necessity. They reason thus: If actions be necessary, and not in our own power, and if we know it to be so, what ground can there be for reprehension and blame, for self-condemnation and remorse? If a clock had understanding to be sensible of its own motions, knowing, at the same time, that they proceed according to necessary laws, could it find fault with itself for striking wrong? Would it not blame the artist, who had ill adjusted the wheels on which its movements depended? So that, upon this scheme, say they, all the moral constitution of our nature is overturned. There is an end to all the operations of conscience about right and wrong. Man is no longer a moral agent, nor the subject of praise or blame for what he does. This difficulty is great, and never has been surmounted by the advocates for necessity. They endeavour to surmount it, by reconciling feeling to philosophic truth, in the following manner. We are so constituted, they say, that certain affections, and the actions which proceed from them, appear odious and base; and others agreeable and lovely; that, wherever they are beheld, either in ourselves or others, the moral sense necessarily approves of the one, and condemns the other; that this approbation is immediate and instinctive, without any reflection on the liberty or necessity of actions; that, on the contrary, the more any person is under the power of his affections and passions, and, by consequence, the greater necessity he is under, the more virtuous or vicious he is esteemed. But this account of the matter is not satisfactory. All that is here said, is in the main true, but is not the whole truth. I appeal to any man who has been guilty of a bad action, which gives him uneasiness, whether there is not somewhat more in the inward feeling, than merely a dislike or disapprobation of the affection, from which his action proceeded? whether the pain, the cruciatus of remorse, is not founded on the notion of a power he has over his will and actions, that he might have forborn to do the ill thing? and whether it is not upon this account, that he is galled within, angry at himself, and confesses himself to be justly blameable? An uneasiness somewhat of the same kind, is felt upon the reflection of any foolish or rash action, committed against the rules of wisdom. The sting is indeed much sharper, and for very wise reasons, when aman has trespassed against the rules of strict morality. But, in both cases, the uneasiness proceeds upon the supposition, that he was free, and had it in his power to have acted a better part. This indeed is true, that to be so entirely under the power of any bad passion, (lust, for instance, or cruelty) as to be incapable of acting otherways than they direct, constitutes a very hateful character. I admit, that all such ill affections are naturally, and in themselves, the objects of dislike and hatred, where-ever they are beheld. But I insist upon it, that mere dislike and hatred, are not the whole, but only a part of the moral feeling. The person, thus under the dominion of bad passions, is accused, is condemned, singly upon this ground, that it was thro’ his own fault he became so subject to them; in other words, that it was in his power, to have kept his mind free from the enslaving influence of corrupt affections. Were not this the case, brute animals might be the objects of moral blame, as well as man. Some beasts are reckoned savage and cruel, others treacherous and false: we dislike, we hate creatures so ill constituted: but we do not blame nor condemn them, as we do rational agents; because they are not supposed to have a sense of right and wrong, nor freedom and power of directing their actions according to that inward rule. We must therefore admit, that the idea of freedom, of a power of regulating our will and actions according to certain rules, is essential to the moral feeling. On the system of universal necessity, abstracted from this feeling, tho’ certain affections and actions might excite our approbation, and others our dislike, there could be no place for blame or remorse. All the ideas would entirely vanish, which at present are suggested by the words ought and should, when applied to moral conduct. Here then is another instance of a natural feeling, opposed to philosophic truth, analogous to what is before considered. It is the more remarkable, that it has given rise to those disputes about liberty and necessity, which have subsisted thro’ all ages in the inquiring world; which, since the earliest accounts of philosophy, have run thro’ all different sects of philosophers, and have been ingrafted into most of the religious systems. We are now able, I imagine, to give a clear and satisfactory account why the different parties never could agree; because, in truth, the feeling of liberty, which we have, does not agree with the real fact. Those who were boldest in their inquiries, traced out the philosophic truth: they saw that all things proceeded in a necessary train of causes and effects, which rendered it impossible for them, to act otherways than they did; and to this system they adhered, without yielding to natural feelings. Those again, who had not courage to oppose the first and most obvious feelings of their heart, stopped short, and adhered to liberty. It is observable, that the side of liberty has always been the most popular, and most generally embraced: and, upon this system, all popular discourses and exhortations must needs proceed. Even those persons, whose philosophical tenets are built upon the system of necessity, find themselves obliged to desert that system, in popular argument, and to adopt the stile and language of those who espouse liberty. Among the antients, the great assertors of necessity were the Stoicks; a severe and rigid sect, whose professed doctrine it was, to subdue all our feelings to philosophy. The Platonics, Academics and Epicureans, who embraced a softer scheme of philosophy, and were more men of the world than the Stoics, leaned to the side of liberty. Both parties have their own advantages in reasoning; and both, when pushed, run into difficulties, from which they can never extricate themselves. The advocates for liberty talk with great advantage upon the moral powers of man, and his character as an accountable being: but are at a loss, how to give any view of the universe, as a regular pre-adjusted plan; and when urged with the connection betwixt the motive and the action, and the necessary train of causes and effects, which results from admitting it to be a fixed connection, they find themselves greatly embarrassed. Here the patrons of necessity triumph. They have manifestly all the advantages of speculative argument; whilst they fail in accounting for man’s moral powers, and struggle in vain to reconcile to their system, the testimony which conscience clearly gives to freedom. Let us then fairly acknowledge, concerning both these classes of philosophers, that they were partly in the right, and partly in the wrong. They divided, as it were, the truth betwixt them. The one had abstract reason on their side: the other had natural feeling. In endeavouring to reconcile these opposites, both parties failed; and the vain attempt has rendered the controversy difficult and perplexed. After having ascertained the foundation, upon which the doctrine of necessity is built, and which seems incapable of being shaken, let us fairly and candidly take our nature as we find it, which will lead us to this conclusion, that tho’ man, in truth, is a necessary agent, having all his actions determined by fixed and immutable laws; yet that, this being concealed from him, he acts with the conviction of being a free agent. It is concealed from him, I say, as to the purposes of action: for whatever discoveries he makes as a philosopher, these affect not his conduct as a man. In principle and speculation, let him be a most rigid fatalist; he has nevertheless all the feelings which would arise from power over his own actions. He is angry at himself when he has done wrong. He praises and blames just like other men: nor can all his principles set him above the reach of self-condemnation and remorse, when conscience at any time smites him. It is true, that a man of this belief, when he is seeking to make his mind easy, after some bad action, may reason upon the principles of necessity, that, according to the constitution of his nature, it was impossible for him to have acted any other part. But this will give him little relief. In spite of all reasonings, his remorse will subsist. Nature never intended us to act upon this plan; and our natural principles are too deeply rooted, to give way to philosophy. This case is precisely similar to that of contingency. A feeling of liberty, which I now scruple not to call deceitful, is so interwoven with our nature, that it has an equal effect in action, as if we were really endued with such a power. Having explained, at full length, this remarkable feeling of liberty, and examined, as we went along, some arguments against necessity that are founded upon it; we now proceed to handle this feeling, as we have done that of contingency, with regard to its final cause. And in this branch of our nature are displayed the greatest wisdom, and the greatest goodness. Man must be so constituted, in order to attain the proper improvement of his nature, in virtue and happiness. Put the case, he were entirely divested of his present ideas of liberty: suppose him to see and conceive his own nature, and the constitution of things, in the light of strict philosophic truth; in the same light they are beheld by the deity: to conceive himself, and all his actions, necessarily linked into the great chain of causes and effects, which renders the whole order both of the natural and moral world unalterably determined in every article: suppose, I say, our natural feelings, our practical ideas to suit and tally with this, which is the real plan; and what would follow? Why, an entire derangement of our present system of action, especially with regard to the motives which now lead us to virtue. There would still indeed be ground for the love of virtue, as the best constitution of nature, and the only sure foundation of happiness; and, in this view, we might be grieved when we found ourselves deficient in good principles. But this would be all. We could feel no inward self-approbation on doing well, no remorse on doing ill; because both the good and the ill were necessary and unavoidable. There would be no more place for applause or blame among mankind: none of that generous in dignation we now feel at the bad, as persons who have abused and perverted their rational powers: no more notion of accountableness for the use of those powers: no sense of ill desert, or just punishment annexed to crimes as their due; nor of any reward merited by worthy and generous actions. All these ideas, and feelings, so useful to men in their moral conduct, vanish at once with the feeling of liberty. There would be field for no other passions but love and hatred, sorrow and pity: and the sense of duty, of being obliged to certain things which we ought to perform, must be quite extinguished; for we can have no conception of moral obligation, without supposing a power in the agent over his own actions. It appears then most fit and wise, that we should be endued with a sense of liberty; without which, man must have been ill qualified for acting his present part. That artificial light, in which the feeling of liberty presents the moral world to our view, answers all the good purposes of making the actions of man entirely dependent upon himself. His happiness and misery appear to be in his own power. He appears praiseworthy or culpable, according as he improves or neglects his rational faculties. The idea of his being an accountable creature arises. Reward seems due to merit; punishment to crimes. He feels the force of moral obligation. In short, new passions arise, and a variety of new springs are set in motion, to make way for new exertions of reason and activity. In all which, tho’ man is really actuated by laws of necessary influence, yet he seems to move himself: and whilst the universal system is gradually carried on to perfection by the first mover, that powerful hand, which winds up and directs the great machine, is never brought into sight. It will now be proper to answer some objections, which may be urged against the doctrine we have advanced. One, which at first, may seem of considerable weight, is, that we found virtue altogether upon a deceitful feeling of liberty, which, it may be alledged, is neither a secure nor an honourable foundation. But, in the first place, I deny that we have founded it altogether upon a deceitful feeling. For, independent of the deceitful feeling of liberty, there is in the nature of man a firm foundation for virtue. He must be sensible that virtue is essentially preferable to vice; that it is the just order, the perfection and happiness of his nature. For, supposing him only endued with the principle of self-love; this principle will lead him to distinguish moral good from evil, so far as to give ground for loving the one, and hating the other: as he must needs see that benevolence, justice, temperance, and the other virtues, are the necessary means of his happiness, and that all vice and wickedness introduce disorder and misery. But man is endued with a social as well as a selfish principle, and has an immediate satisfaction and pleasure in the happiness of others, which is a further ground for distinguishing and loving virtue. All this, I say, takes place, laying aside the deceitful feeling of liberty, and supposing all our notions to be adjusted to the system of necessity. I add, that there is nothing in the above doctrine, to exclude the perception, of a certain beauty and excellency in virtue, according to lord Shaftesbury and the antient Philosophers; which may, for ought we know, render it lovely and admirable to all rational beings. It appears to us, unquestionably, under the form of intrinsick excellency, even when we think not of its tendency to our happiness. Ideas of moral obligation, of remorse, of merit, and all that is connected with this way of thinking, arise from, what may be called, a wise delusion in our nature concerning liberty: but, as this affects only a certain modification of our ideas of virtue and vice, there is nothing in it, to render the foundation of virtue, either unsecure or dishonourable. Unsecure it does not render it, because, as now observed, virtue partly stands firm upon a separate foundation, independent of these feelings; and even where built upon these feelings, it is still built upon human nature. For though these feelings of liberty vary from the truth of things, they are, nevertheless, essential to the nature of man. We act upon them, and cannot act otherways. And therefore, tho’ the distinction betwixt virtue and vice, had no other foundation but these feelings, (which is not the case)it would still have an immoveable and secure foundation in human nature. As for the supposed dishonour done to virtue, by resting its authority, in any degree, on a deceitful feeling, there is so little ground for this part of the objection, that, on the contrary, our doctrine most highly exalts virtue. For the above described artificial sense of liberty, is wholly contrived to support virtue, and to give its dictates the force of a law. Hereby it is discovered to be, in a singular manner, the care of the Deity; and a peculiar sort of glory is thrown around it. The Author of nature, has not rested it, upon the ordinary feelings and principles of human nature, as he has rested our other affections and appetites, even those which are most necessary to our existence. But a sort of extraordinary machinery is introduced for its sake. Human nature is forced, as it were, out of its course, and made to receive a nice and artificial set of feelings; merely that conscience may have a commanding power, and virtue be set as on a throne. This could not otherways be brought about, but by means of the deceitful feeling of liberty, which therefore is a greater honour to virtue, a higher recommendation of it, than if our conceptions were, in every particular, correspondent to the truth of things. A second objection which may be urged against our system, is, that it seems to represent the Deity, as acting deceitfully by his creatures. He has given them certain ideas of contingency in events, and of liberty in their own actions, by which he has, in a manner, forced them to act upon a false hypothesis; as if he were unable, to carry on the government of this world, did his creatures conceive things, according to the real truth. This objection is, in a great measure, obviated, by what we observed in the introduction to this essay, concerning our sensible ideas. It is universally allowed by modern philosophers, that the perceptions of our external senses, are not always agreeable to strict truth, but so contrived, as rather to answer the purposes of use. Now, if it be called a deceit in our senses, not to give us just representations of the material world, the Deity must be the author of this deceit, as much as he is, of that which prevails in our moral ideas. But no just objection can ly against the conduct of the Deity, in either case. Our senses, both internal and external, are given us for different ends and purposes; some to discover truth, others to make us happy and virtuous. The senses which are appropriated to the discovery of truth, unerringly answer their end. So do the senses, which are appropriated to virtue and happiness. And, in this view, it is no material objection, that the same sense does not answer both ends. As to the other part of the objection, that it must imply imperfection in the Deity, if he cannot establish virtue but upon a delusive foundation; we may be satisfied how fallacious this reasoning is, by reflecting upon the numberless appearances, of moral evil and disorder in this world. From these appearances, much more strongly, were there any force in this reasoning, might we infer imperfection in the Deity; seeing the state of this world, in many particulars, does not answer the notions we are apt to form, of supreme power conducted by perfect wisdom and goodness. But, in truth, there is nothing in our doctrine, which can justly argue imperfection in the Deity. For it is abundantly plain, first, that it is a more perfect state of things, and more worthy of the Deity, to have all events going on with unbroken order, in a fixed train of causes and effects; than to have every thing desultory and contingent. And, if such a being as man, was to be placed in this world, to act his present part; it was necessary, that he should have a notion of contingency in events, and of liberty in his own actions. The objection therefore, on the whole, amounts to no more, than that the Deity cannot work contradictions. For, if it was fit and wise, that man should think and act, as a free agent, it was impossible this could be otherways accomplished, than by endowing him with a sense of liberty: and if it was also fit and wise, that universal necessity should be the real plan of the universe, this sense of liberty could be no other than a deceitful one. Another objection may perhaps be raised against us in this form. If it was necessary for man to be constituted, with such an artificial feeling, why was he endowed with so much knowledge, as to unravel the mystery? What purpose does it serve, to let in just so much light, as to discover the disguised appearance of the moral world, when it was intended, that his conduct should be adjusted to this disguised appearance? To this, I answer, first, that the discovery, when made, cannot possibly be of any bad consequence; and next, that a good consequence, of very great importance, results from it. No bad consequence, I say, ensues from the discovery, that liberty and contingency are deceitful feelings; for the case is confessedly parallel in the natural world, where no harm has ensued. After we have discovered, by philosophy, that several of the appearances of nature, are only useful illusions, that secondary qualities exist not in matter, and that our sensible ideas, in various instances, do not correspond to philosophic truth; after these discoveries are made, do they, in the least, affect even the philosopher himself in ordinary action? Does not he, in common with the rest of mankind, proceed, as it is fit he should, upon the common system of appearances and natural feelings? As little, in the present case, do our speculations about liberty and necessity, counteract the plan of nature. Upon the system of liberty we do, and must act: and no discoveries, made concerning the illusive nature of that feeling, are capable of disappointing, in any degree, the intention of the Deity. But this is not all. These discoveries are also of excellent use, as they furnish us with one of the strongest arguments, for the existence of the Deity, and as they set the wisdom and goodness of his providence, in the most striking light. Nothing carries in it more express characters of design; nothing can be conceived more opposite to chance, than a plan so artfully contrived, for adjusting our impressions and feelings to the purposes of life. For here things are carried off, as it were, from the straight line; taken out of the course, in which they would of themselves proceed; and so moulded, as forcibly, and against their nature, to be subservient to man. His mind does not receive the impression of the moral world, in the same manner, as wax receives the impression of a seal. It does not reflect the image of it, in the same manner, as a mirror reflects its images: it has a peculiar cast and turn given to its conceptions, admirably ordered to exalt virtue, to the highest pitch. These conceptions are indeed illusive, yet, which is wonderful, it is by this very circumstance, that, in man, two of the most opposite things in nature, are happily reconciled, liberty and necessity; having this illustrious effect, that in him are accumulated, all the prerogatives both of a necessary and free agent. The discovery of such a marvelous adjustment, which is more directly opposed to chance, than any other thing conceiveable, must necessarily give us the strongest impression of a wise designing cause. And now a sufficient reason appears, for suffering man to make this surprising discovery. The Almighty has let us so far into his councils, as to afford the justest foundation, for admiring and adoring his wisdom. It is a remark worthy to be made, that the capacities of man seem, in general, to have a tendency beyond the wants and occasions of his present state. This has been often observed with respect to his wishes and desires. The same holds as to his intellectual faculties, which, sometimes, as in the instance before us, run beyond the limits of what is strictly necessary for him to know, in his present circumstances, and let in upon him some glimmerings of higher and nobler discoveries. A veil is thrown over nature, where it is not useful for him to behold it. And yet, sometimes, by turning aside that veil a very little, he is admitted to a fuller view; that his admiration of nature, and the God of nature, may be increased; that his curiosity and love of truth may be fed; and, perhaps, that some augurium, some intimation, may be given, of his being designed for a future, more exalted period of being; when attaining the full maturity of his nature, he shall no longer stand in need of artificial impressions, but shall feel and act according to the strictest truth of things. B reads: It will now be proper to answer some objections which may be urged against the doctrine we have advanced.* One, which at first may seem of considerable weight, is, That it seems to represent the Deity as acting deceitfully by his creatures.11 He hath given them certain notions of contingency in events, by which he hath, in a manner, forced them to act upon a false hypothesis; as if he were unable to carry on the government of the world, did his creatures conceive things according to the real truth. This objection is, in a great measure, obviated, by what is observed in the introduction to this essay. It is universally allowed by modern philosophers, that the perceptions of our external senses do not always correspond in strict truth, but are so contrived, as rather to answer useful purposes. Now, if it be called a deceit in our senses, not to give us just representations of the material world, the Deity must be the author of this deceit, as much as he is of that which prevails in the moral world. But no just objection can lie against the conduct of the Deity, in either case. Our senses, both internal and external, are given to us for different ends and purposes; some to discover truth, others to make us happy and virtuous. The senses which are appropriated to the discovery of truth, unerringly answer their end. So do the senses which are appropriated to virtue and happiness. And, in this view, the objection vanisheth, because it amounts but to this, that the same sense does not answer both ends. As to the other branch of the objection, That it must imply imperfection in the Deity, if he cannot govern this world without deluding his creatures; I answer, That there is nothing in the foregoing doctrine which can justly argue imperfection in the Deity. For it is abundantly plain, first, that it is a more perfect state of things, and more worthy of the Deity, to have all events going on with unbroken order, in a fixed train of causes and effects, than to have every thing desultory and contingent. And if such a being as man was to be placed in this world, to act his present part, it was necessary, that he should have a notion of contingency in events, and of power to direct and controul them. The objection therefore, on the whole, amounts to no more, than that the Deity cannot work contradictions. For if it was fit and wise, that man should think and act as an independent being, having power to regulate his own actions, and, by means of these, to regulate also future events; it was impossible this could be otherways accomplished, than by enduing him with a sense of this power: and if it was also fit and wise, that universal necessity should be the real plan of the universe, this sense must be delusive. And, after all, seeing our happiness, in many instances, is placed upon delusive perceptions, why should it puzzle us, that our activity is promoted by the same means? No one considers it as an imputation on the Deity, that we are so framed as to perceive what is not, viz. beauty, grandeur, colour, heat or cold, as existing in objects, when such perceptions, though delusive, contribute to our happiness: and yet our happiness depends greatly more on action than on any of these perceptions. The foregoing objection may perhaps be turned into a different shape. If it was necessary for man to be constituted with such an artificial sense, why was he endued with so much knowledge as to unravel the mystery? What purpose does it serve, to let in just so much light, as to discover the disguised appearance of the moral world, when it was intended that his conduct should be adjusted to this disguised appearance? To this I answer, first, That the discovery, when made, is not attended with any bad consequence; and next, that a good consequence, of very great importance, results from it. No bad consequence, I say, ensues from the discovery, that contingency, and power to regulate our own conduct, are delusive perceptions: for the case is confessedly parallel in the material world, where no harm hath ensued. After we have discovered, by philosophy, that several of the appearances of nature are only useful illusions; that secondary qualities exist not in matter; and that the perceptions of our external senses, in various instances, do not correspond to philosophic truth; after these discoveries are made, do they in the least affect even the philosopher himself, in ordinary action? Doth not he, in common with the rest of mankind, proceed, as it is fit he should, upon the common system of appearances and natural perceptions? As little, in the present case, do our speculations about liberty and necessity unhinge the plan of nature. Upon the common system we do and must act; and no discoveries made concerning the illusive nature of our perceptions, can disappoint in any degree the intention of the Deity. But this is not all. These discoveries are also of excellent use; as they furnish us with one of the strongest arguments for the existence of the Deity, and as they set the wisdom and goodness of his providence in the most striking light. Nothing carries more express characters of design, nothing can be conceived more opposite to chance, than a plan so artfully contrived, for adjusting our impressions and feelings to the purposes of life. For here things are carried off, as it were, from the straight line; taken out of the course in which they would of themselves proceed; and so moulded, as forcibly, and against their nature, to be subservient to man. He doth not receive the impression of the moral world in the same manner as wax receives the impression of a seal; he doth not reflect the image of it in the same manner as a mirror reflects its images. He hath a peculiar cast and turn given to his conceptions, admirably adjusted to the part allotted him to act. These conceptions are indeed illusive; yet, which is wonderful, it is by this very circumstance, that, in man, two of the most opposite things in nature are happily reconciled, liberty and necessity; having this illustrious effect, that in him are accumulated all the prerogatives both of a necessary and a free agent. The discovery of such a marvellous adjustment, which is more directly opposed to chance than any other thing conceivable, must necessarily give us the strongest impression of a wise designing cause. And now a sufficient reason appears, for suffering man to make this surprising discovery. The Almighty hath admitted us so far into his counsels, as to afford the justest foundation for admiring and adoring his wisdom. It is a remark worthy to be made, that the capacities of man seem in general to have a tendency beyond the wants and occasions of his present state. This hath often been observed with respect to his wishes and desires. The same holds as to his intellectual faculties, which sometimes, as in the instance before us, run beyond the limits of what at present is necessary for him to know, and let in upon him some glimmerings of higher and nobler discoveries. A veil is thrown over nature, where it is not useful for him to behold it: and yet sometimes, by turning aside that veil a very little, he is admitted to a fuller view; that his admiration of nature, may be increased; that his curiosity and love of truth may be fed; and perhaps that some augurium, some intimation may be given, of his being designed for a future, more exalted state of being; when attaining the full maturity of his nature, he shall no longer stand in need of artificial impressions, but shall perceive and act according to the strictest truth of things. iv.personal identityi. In A, this essay reads:12 Had we no original impressions but those of the external senses, according to the author of the treatise of human nature, we never could have any consciousness of self; because such consciousness cannot arise from any external sense. Mankind would be in a perpetual reverie; ideas would be constantly floating in the mind; and no man would be able to connect his ideas with himself. Neither could there be any idea of personal identity. For a man, cannot consider himself to be the same person, in different circumstances, when he has no idea or consciousness of himself at all. Beings there may be, who are thus constituted: but man is none of these beings. It is an undoubted truth, that he has an original feeling, or consciousness of himself, and of his existence; which, for the most part, accompanies every one of his impressions and ideas, and every action of his mind and body. I say, for the most part; for the faculty or internal sense, which is the cause of this peculiar perception, is not always in action. In a dead sleep, we have no consciousness of self. We dream some times without this consciousness: and even some of our waking hours pass without it. A reverie is nothing else, but a wandering of the mind through its ideas, without carrying along the perception of self. This consciousness or perception of self, is, at the same time, of the liveliest kind. Self-preservation is every one’s peculiar duty; and the vivacity of this perception, is necessary to make us attentive to our own interest, and, particularly, to shun every appearance of danger. When a man is in a reverie, he has no circumspection, nor any manner of attention to his own interest. ’Tis remarkable, that one has scarce any chance to fall asleep, ’till this perception vanish. Its vivacity keeps the mind in a certain degree of agitation, which bars sleep. A fall of water disposes to sleep. It fixes the attention, both by sound and sight, and, without creating much agitation, occupies the mind, so as to make it forget itself. Reading of some books has the same effect. It is this perception, or consciousness of self, carried through all the different stages of life, and all the variety of action, which is the foundation of personal identity. It is, by means of this perception, that I consider myself to be the same person, in all varieties of fortune, and every change of circumstance. The main purpose of this short essay, is to introduce an observation, that it is not by any argument or reasoning, I conclude myself to be the same person, I was ten years ago. This conclusion rests entirely upon the feeling of identity, which accompanies me through all my changes, and which is the only connecting principle, that binds together, all the various thoughts and actions of my life. Far less is it by any argument, or chain of reasoning, that I discover my own existence. It would best range indeed, if every man’s existence was kept a secret from him, ’till the celebrated argument was invented, that cogito ergo sum. And if a fact, that to common understanding, appears self-evident, is not to be relied on without an argument; why should I take for granted, without an argument, that I think, more than that I exist? For surely I am not more conscious of thinking, than of existing. Upon this subject, I shall just suggest a thought, which will be more fully insisted on afterwards; that any doctrine, which leads to a distrust of our senses, must land in universal scepticism. If natural feelings, whether from internal or external senses, are not admitted as evidence of truth, I cannot see, that we can be certain of any fact whatever. It is clear, from what is now observed, that, upon this sceptical system, we cannot be certain even of our own existence.* B reads as above, but removes the footnote. appendixi. Added to B, and reprinted without revision in C. Variant Readings to Part IIii.external sensesi. In place of the two brief introductory paragraphs, A opens: In a former essay are pointed out some instances, in which our senses may be called deceitful.* They are of two sorts. One is, when the deception is occasioned by indisposition of the organ, remoteness of place, grossness of the medium, or the like; which distort the appearances of objects, and make them be seen double, or greater or less, than they really are. In such instances, the perception is always faint, obscure or confused: and they noway invalidate the authority of the senses, in general, when, abstracting from such accidental obstructions, the perception is lively, strong and distinct. In the other sort, there is a deception established by the laws of nature; as in the case of secondary qualities, taken notice of in that essay; whence it was inferred, that nature does not always give us such correct perceptions, as correspond to the philosophic truth of things. Notwithstanding of which, the testimony of our senses still remains, as a sufficient ground of confidence and trust. For, in all these cases, where there is this sort of established deception, nature furnishes means for coming at the truth. As in this very instance of secondary qualities, philosophy easily corrects the false appearances, and teaches us, that they are rather to be considered, as impressions made upon the mind, than as qualities of the object. A remedy being thus provided to the deception, our belief, so far as it can be influenced by reason, is the more confirmed, with regard to our other sensations, where there is no appearance of illusion. But this is not the whole of the matter. When any sense presents to our view, an appearance that may be called deceitful, we plainly discover some useful purpose intended. The deceit is not the effect of an imperfect or arbitrary constitution; but wisely contrived, to give us such notice of things, as may best suit the purposes of life. From this very consideration, we are the more confirmed in the veracity of nature. Particular instances, in which, our senses are accommodated to the uses of life, rather than to the strictness of truth, are rational exceptions, which serve, the more firmly, to establish the general rule. And, indeed, when we have nothing but our senses to direct our conduct, with regard to external objects, it would be strange, if there should be any just ground, for a general distrust of them. But there is no such thing. There is nothing to which all mankind are more necessarily determined, than to put confidence in their senses. We entertain no doubt of their authority, because we are so constituted, that it is not in our power to doubt. B opens with the same paragraph, but revises the first sentence to: “In several instances things appear to us different from what they truly are; and so far our senses may be termed delusive.”13 ii. The section on “Perceptions of External Sense” was added to C.14 iii.different theories of visioni. This essay in its entirety was added to C.15 iv.matter and spiriti. This essay in its entirety was added to C. viii.knowledge of the deityi. The last three paragraphs on Hume’s posthumously published Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion (1779) added to C.16 bibliographyWorks Cited or Alluded to by KamesAesop. Fables. Retold by Joseph Jacobs. Vol. 17, The Harvard Classics. New York: Collier & Son, 1909–14. Aristotle. On the Soul. Translated by J. A. Smith. Vol. I, The Complete Works ofAristotle. Edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984. Berkeley, George. A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge. 1710. Edited by Jonathan Dancy. 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An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. 1690. Edited by Peter H. Nidditch. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975. ———. Locke’s Reply to the Right Revered the Lord Bishop of Worcester’s Answer to his Letter. 1697. ———. Some Familiar Letters between Locke and several of his Friends. In Vol. 8 of The Works of John Locke, 10 vols. 12th ed. London, 1823. Milton, John. Paradise Lost. 1674. Edited by Scott Elledge. New York: W. W. Norton, 1993. Newton, Isaac, Sir. Opticks: or, A treatise of the reflexions, refractions, inflexions and colours of light. London, 1704. Pictet, Benedict. Theologia Christiana. 2 vols. Geneva, 1696. Porterfield, William. “An essay concerning the motions of our eyes. Part I. Of their external motions” (1737). In Medical Essays and Observations, Published by a Society in Edinburgh, 5 vols. 5th ed. London and Edinburgh, 1771. ———. A Treatise on the Eye, the Manner and Phaenomena of Vision, 2 vols. London: A. Miller, and Edinburgh: G. Hamilton and J. Balfour, 1759. Reid, Thomas. Correspondence of Thomas Reid. Edited by Paul Wood. University Park, Pa.: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2002. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Emile, or, On Education. 1762. Edited and translated by Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books, 1979. Shaftesbury, Anthony Ashley Cooper, Third Earl of. Inquiry Concerning Virtue or Merit. In Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, Times. 1711. Edited by Lawrence E. Klein. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Smith, Adam. The Theory of Moral Sentiments. 1759. Edited by D. D. Raphael and A. L. Macfie. Indianapolis: Liberty Classics, 1982. Swift, Jonathan. “Thoughts on Various Subjects.” In Vol. I of Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift and John Gay, Miscellanies in Prose and Verse. 1727–32. Terence. Heautontimorumenos: The Self-Tormentor. In The Comedies of Terence. Edited by Henry Thomas Riley. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1874. Turrettini, François. Institutio theologiae elencticae, 3 vols. Geneva, 1679–85. Virgil. The Aeneid. Translated by Robert Fitzgerald. New York: Vintage Books, 1990. Voltaire, François Marie Arouet de. La Henriade. Rouen, 1723. English translation 1728. Wollaston, William. The Religion of Nature Delineated. London, 1724. Secondary LiteratureEmerson, Roger L. “Henry Home, Lord Kames.” In British Prose Writers, 1660–1800, 2nd series, Dictionary of Literary Biography, vol. 104. Edited by Donald T. Siebert. Detroit: Gale Research Company, 1991, pp. 224–25. Haakonssen, Knud. Natural Law and Moral Philosophy: From Grotius to the Scottish Enlightenment. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Helo, Ario. “The historicity of morality: Necessity and necessary agents in the ethics of Lord Kames.” History of European Ideas, 27 (2001): 239–55. Lehmann, William C. Henry Home and the Scottish Enlightenment: A Study inNational Character and in the History of Ideas. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1971. McGuiness, Arthur E. Henry Home, Lord Kames. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1970. Moore, James, and Michael Silverthorne. “Gershom Carmichael and the natural jurisprudence tradition in eighteenth-century Scotland.” In Virtue and Commerce: The Shaping of Political Economy in the Scottish Enlightenment. Edited by Istvan Hont and Michael Ignatieff. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983, pp. 73–87. Ross, Ian Simpson. Lord Kames and the Scotland of His Day. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1972. Ross, Trevor. “Copyright and the invention of tradition.” Eighteenth-CenturyStudies, 26 (Autumn 1992): 1–27. Smellie, William. “The Life of Henry Home, Lord Kames.” In Literary andCharacteristical Lives. 1800. Reprint, edited by Stephen Brown, Bristol: Thoemmes Press, 1997. Stewart, M. A. “Religion and rational theology.” In The Cambridge Companion to the Scottish Enlightenment. Edited by Alexander Broadie. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Stocking, George W. “Scotland as the model of mankind: Lord Kames’s philosophical view of civilization.” In Toward a Science of Man: Essays in the History of Anthropology. Edited by Timothy H. H. Thorensen. The Hague: Mouton, 1975, pp. 65–89. Tytler, Alexander Fraser, Lord Wordhouselee. Memoirs of the Life and Writing of the Honourable Henry Home of Kames. 1814. Reprint, Bristol: Thoemmes Press, 1996. This book is set in Adobe Garamond, a modern adaptation by Robert Slimbach of the typeface originally cut around 1540 by the French typographer and printer Claude Garamond. The Garamond face, with its small lowercase height and restrained contrast between thick and thin strokes, is a classic “old-style” face and has long been one of the most influential and widely used typefaces. Printed on paper that is acid-free and meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, z39.48-1992 (archival) Book design by Louise OFarrell Gainesville, Florida Typography by Apex Publishing, LLC Madison, Wisconsin Printed and bound by Edwards Brothers, Inc. Ann Arbor, Michigan [† ]Chap. Identity and Diversity, from the 9th Section downward. [Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, II.xxvii.9–29, pp. 335–48.] [2. ]This letter has not survived. [1. ]That is, Samuel Clarke’s Discourse concerning the Being and Attributes of God. [* ]See the Essay of Power. [† ]See the same Essay. [‡ ]Book 4. chap. 10. [“Of Our Knowledge of the Existence of a God,” in Locke, Essay, IV.x.] [* ]Power, Cause and Effect. [* ]See the Greenlander’s Argument, Sketches of the History of Man, edit. 2d. vol. 4. p. 196. [In his sketch on the “Principles and progress of theology” (Sketches, vol. 4, bk. 3, sketch 3), Kames cites a conversation between a Danish missionary and a Greenlander (taken from David Crantz’s History of Greenland, 1767) in order to show that “savage” peoples have intimations of a knowledge of the Deity.] [* ]See the Essay upon the Foundation and Principles of Morality, chap. 2.
[* ]Essay Liberty and Necessity, page 122. [† ]See Essay on Power, Cause and Effect, at the end. [* ]See the Essay Personal Identity. [* ]To prevent mistakes, it is proper to be observed, that, in a lax sense, reason comprehends intuition, as well as the power of drawing conclusions from premises. But here it is used in its strict and proper sense, as opposed to intuition. By intuition we perceive certain propositions to be true, precisely as by sight we perceive certain things to exist. Other propositions require a chain of comparisons and intermediate steps, before we arrive at the conclusion; by which we perceive, either demonstrably or probably, the proposition to be true. Hence it is clear, that intuitive knowledge, which is acquired by a single act of perception, must stand higher in the scale of conviction, than any reasoning can do that requires a plurality of perceptions. The more complex any process is by which we acquire knowledge, the greater is the chance of error; and consequently the less entire our conviction. [2. ]“Fear first created gods in the world.” Originally from Thebaid (3.661), an epic poem composed by Statius circa 80–92 [* ]Dread of Supernatural Powers in the Dark. [3. ]Euclid’s Elements follows a syllogistic model, in which each geometrical proposition is justified by its own demonstration. [4. ]“That, from the Eternal and Necessary Differences of Things, there naturally and necessarily arise certain Moral Obligations, which are of themselves incumbent on all Rational Creatures, antecedent to all positive Institution and to all expectation of Reward or Punishment,” Proposition I of Clarke’s Discourse concerning the Unchangeable Obligations of Natural Religion. See above, Part I, essay II, footnote 9, for Kames’s previous citation. [5. ]Hume, An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, 11.13, p. 190; 11.25, p. 195. [* ]Essay Knowledge of Future Events. [† ]Essay Power, at the close. [* ]Knowledge of Future Events. [* ]One argument used against Providence, I take to be a very strong one in its defence. It is objected, [* ]Essay upon Liberty and Necessity. [6. ]Kames refers to Hume’s posthumously published Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion (1779; reprint, ed. Richard H. Popkin, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1980). [7. ]A reference to the sketch on the “Principles and progress of theology,” in Kames, Sketches, vol. 4, bk. 3, sketch 3. [8. ]Hume, Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, Part XI, p. 67ff. [* ]Vol. 2d. p. 203. edit. 2d. [“Appetite for society—Origin of national societies,” in Kames, Sketches, vol. 2, bk. 2, sketch 1.] [* ]Conscience! conscience! instinct divin; immortelle & celeste voix; guide assuré d’un être ignorant & borné, mais intelligent & libre; juge infaillible du bien & du mal, qui rends l’homme semblable à Dieu; c’est toi qui fais l’excellence de sa nature & la moralité de ses actions. Rousseau [“Conscience, conscience! Divine instinct, immortal and celestial voice, certain guide of a being that is ignorant and limited but intelligent and free; infallible judge of good and bad which makes men like unto God; it is you who make the excellence of his nature and the morality of his actions.” Emile, bk. IV, p. 290.] [9. ]This deist prayer was composed for Kames by the liberal clergyman Hugh Blair (1718–1800), who defended Kames and Hume against the charges of heresy leveled by the “high-flyers” (i.e., strictly orthodox Calvinists). In addition to his Critical Dissertation on the Poems of Ossian (1763) and his influential Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres (1783), Blair was the author of an enormously popular collection of Sermons (5 vols., 1777–1801), a work so moderate and ecumenical in orientation that it earned the Presbyterian minister a pension from the Crown. [1. ]But throughout the text, C continues to speak of the principles and foundations of the law of nature. For Kames, and for most Scottish moral philosophers of the period (with the important exception of Hume), the laws of morality are the laws of nature. [2. ]C reads “no clear account” rather than “superficial account,” but makes the point about the application of approbation/disapprobation to morally irrelevant and possibly superficial categories through its examples (esp., “I approve an elegant dress on a fine woman”). [3. ]Here Kames emphasizes the practical danger of failing to distinguish between duty and benevolence. [* ]Doctor Butler, preface to his sermons, page 11, says, “Our constitution is put into our own power: we are charged with it; and therefore are accountable for any disorder or violation of it.”4 [5. ]An example of Kames’s increased concern to demonstrate (contra Hume) that justice is a primary virtue, rooted in our very nature: while A does not even list justice, B and C give it pride of place. [6. ]B and C suggest the influence of a stadial model of historical development, according to which mankind progresses through four stages of material subsistence, from hunting to pasturage to agriculture to commerce. Thus, Kames acknowledges an original hunting stage (“men originally made shift to support themselves, partly by prey, partly by the natural fruits of the earth”), a pastoral stage (“man found it necessary, therefore, to abandon this manner of life, and to become shepherd”), and an agricultural stage (“a bit of land is divided from the common; it is cultivated with the spade or plough”). Given this stadial understanding of historical development, Kames can no longer assert that “there never has been, among any people or tribe, such a thing as the possession of goods in common.” Moreover, rather than state at the outset that provision against want necessarily involves the idea of property, in B and C Kames is at pains to first establish the universality of the “hoarding principle,” from which the sense of property can then be inferred. Thus, while Kames continues to argue that the sense of property is natural rather than artificial, he must now take stock of a theory of historical progress that tends to support Hume’s position: that is, that the idea of property is not based on a natural sense or instinct but is rather the outcome of a complex process of material and social developments (though at the same time, natural in the sense that the establishment of property can be seen as the outcome of a natural process of historical development). [7. ]B and C argue the same point but through an indirect approach: having established that the “hoarding appetite” is natural, Kames can then infer a sense of property from the instinct to hoard (“What sort of creature would man be, endued as he is with a hoarding appetite, but with no sense or notion of property?”). [8. ]Another example of the stronger emphasis that Kames places on justice in his later revisions to the work. [9. ]While B responds to criticisms of Kames’s notion of deceit by qualifying the terms, C drops the language of deceit altogether. [10. ]“You are going to make things tally, that are contradictory in their natures.” Horace, Satires, 1.1, 102–3. [* ]I acknowledge it to have been once my opinion, that we have a delusive sense of power to act against motives, or to act against our own inclination and choice, commonly termed liberty of indifference. I was carried along by the current of popular opinion; and I could not dream this sense to be a pure imagination, when I found it vouched by so many grave writers. I had at the same time a thorough conviction, from the clearest evidence, that man is a necessary agent; and there fore I justly concluded, that the sense of liberty of indifference, like that of contingency, must be delusive. I yielded to another popular opinion, That the perceptions of the moral sense, praise and blame, merit and demerit, guilt and remorse, are inconsistent with necessity, and must be founded upon the delusive sense of liberty of indifference. From these premisses, I was obliged, though reluctantly, to admit, that some of the most noted perceptions and emotions of the moral sense are entirely built upon this delusive sense of liberty. The subject being handled after that manner in the first edition of this book, I was sensible of the odium of a doctrine that rests virtue in any measure upon a delusion; and I stated this as the first objection, in order to remove it the best way I could. Candor I shall always esteem essential in speaking to the public, not less than in private dealings; and my opinion of the wisdom of providence in the government of this world, is so firmly established, that I never can be apprehensive of harm in adhering to truth, however singular it may appear upon some occasions. I now chearfully acknowledge my errors; and am happy in thinking, that I have at last got into the right track. It appears to me at present a harsh doctrine, that virtue in any part should be founded on a delusion, though formerly the supposed truth of the doctrine reconciled me to it. It gives me solid satisfaction, to find the moral sense entirely consistent with voluntary necessity, which I must pronounce to be the system of nature. The moral sense makes a chief branch of the original constitution of man; and it can never lose its authority, while we have any feeling of pleasure and pain. According to this plan of morality, the objection, That it is partly founded on a delusion, vanisheth; and the objection, for that reason, is dropt in the present edition. [11. ]In A, Kames had anticipated this objection: “A second objection which may be urged against our system, is, that it seems to represent the Deity as acting deceitfully toward his creatures.” What he had not anticipated was the degree of opposition that he would encounter upon publication of this doctrine. [12. ]In A and B, this much briefer essay is found in Part II. As Kames explains in the Preface to C, “In correcting the Essay on Personal Identity, having discovered its intimate connection with the moral system, I transferred it from the second Part to the first.” Thus, in C Kames argues that moral agency requires a sense of continuous selfhood: “The knowledge I have of my personal identity is what constitutes me a moral agent, accountable to God and to man for every action of my life. Were I kept ignorant of my personal identity, it would not be in my power to connect any of my past actions with myself. ... It would answer no good purpose, to reward me for a benevolent act, or to punish me for a crime.” [* ]The deceitful feeling of liberty, unfolded in the essay upon liberty and necessity, may perhaps embarrass some readers, as in some measure contradictory to the position here laid down. But the matter is easily cleared. Natural feelings are satisfying evidence of truth; and, in fact, have full authority over us, unless in some singular cases, where we are admonished by counter-feelings, or by reasoning, not to give implicit trust. This is a sufficient foundation for all the arguments, that are built upon the authority of our senses, in point of evidence. The feeling of liberty is a very singular case. The reasons are clearly traced for the necessity of this delusive feeling, which distinguishes it in a very particular manner, and leaves no room, to draw any consequence from it, to our other feelings. But there is, besides, a circumstance yet more distinguishing, in this delusive feeling of liberty, which entirely exempts it, from being an exception to the general rule above laid down. It is this; that the feeling is by no means entire on the side of liberty. It is counter-balanced by other feelings, which, in many instances, afford such a conviction of the necessary influence of motives, that physical and moral necessity can scarce be distinguished. The sense of liberty operates chiefly in the after reflection. But, previous to the action, there is no distinct or clear feeling, that it can happen otherways, than in connection with its proper motive. Here the feelings being, on the whole, opposite to each other, nothing can be inferred from this case, to derogate from the evidence of feelings that are clear, cogent and authoritative; and to which, nothing can be opposed, from the side of reason or counter-feeling. So that our principle remains safe and unshaken, that a general distrust of our senses, internal or external, must land us in universal scepticism. [* ]Essay upon liberty and necessity. [13. ]B qualifies the description (“and so far may be termed deceitful”), while C drops the term from the text. [14. ]A and B are not divided into separate sections and present the material in a different order than is found in C. But apart from the introductory material, there are no substantial differences between the three editions. [15. ]Kames briefly considers the sense of vision in A and B, as part of his essay on “External Senses.” In C, since sight is “one of the most simple and distinct” of the senses, vision represents a test case for the veracity of the human senses. [16. ]Kames’s censure of this posthumously published work represents his harshest treatment of Hume. Though Hume’s Treatise was one of the main targets of the Essays, shortly after the publication of A, Hume described Kames’s work as “well wrote” and “an unusual instance of an obliging method of answering a Book” (Hume to Michael Ramsay, 22 June 1751, in The Letters of David Hume, 2 vols., ed. J. Y. T. Greig [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1932], I:162). [* ]Doctor Butler, preface to his sermons, page 11, says, “Our constitution is put into our own power: we are charged with it; and therefore are accountable for any disorder or violation of it.”4 [4]Kames quotes from Butler, Works, 2:10. B and C make a similar distinction between justice (now called a primary virtue) as a matter of law, and generosity (now classed as a secondary virtue) as a matter of choice, but the reference to “the supposition of liberty of action” is omitted and the issue is no longer explicitly framed around the liberty and necessity debate. |

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