CHAP. VII. "phe man who, in oppofitlon to (Irong temptation, b y roble eftbrt, maintains his integrity, is the happieft man on earth. The more fevere his conflidl has been, the greater is his triumph. The confcioufnefs of inward worth gives flrength to his heart, and makes his countenance to (hine. Teinpefts may beat and^ floods roar, but he ftands firm as a rock in the joy of a good ^ confcience, and confidence of divine approbation.
« To this I fhall only add, what every man's confcience dic- tates. That he who does his duty, from the convidion that it is right and honourable, and what he ought to do, adts from a nobler principle, and with more inward fatisfad:ion, than he who is bribed to do it, merely from the confideration of a reward prefent or future.
CHAP. VIII.
Obfervations concerning Confcience.
I Shall now conclude this EfTay with fome obfervations con- cerning this power of the mind which we call confciencey by which its nature may be better underftood.
The ^r^ is. That, like all our other powers, it comes to ma- turity by infenfible degrees, and may be much aided ia its ftrength and vigour by proper culture.
All the human faculties have their infancy and their fiate of maturity.
The faculties which we have in common with the brutes ap- pear firft, and have the quickefl growth. In the firfi period of life, children are not capable of diftinguifliing right from wrong ' OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. ac;^ wrong in human condud j neither are they capable of abftradl CHAP.vill- reafoning in matters of fcicnce. I'heir judgment of moral condudt, as well as their jutlgment of truth, advances by iiifcn- fible degrees, like the corn and the grafs.
In vegetables, full; the blade or the leaf appears, then the flower, and laJl of all the fruit, the noblelt produdion of the three, and that for which the others were produced. Thefe fucceed one another in a regular order. They require moiflufs and heat and air and flielter to bring them to maturity, and may be much improved by culture. According to the variations of i'oil, fealbn and culture, fome plants are brought to much greater perfedion than others of the fame fpecies. But no va- riation of culture or feafon or foil can make grapes grow froiu thorns, or figs from thiftles.
We may obferve a fimilar progrefs in the faculties of the mind: For there is a wonderful analogy among all the works of God, from the leaft even to the greateft.
The faculties of man unfold themfelves in a certain order, appointed by the great Creator. In their gradual progrefs, they may be greatly alUfted or retarded, improved or corrupted, by education, inftruclion, example, exercife, and by the fociety and converfation of men, which, like foil and culture in plants, may produce great changes to the better or to the worfe.
But thefe means can never produce any new faculties, nor any other than were originally planted in the mind by the Au- thor of nature. And what is common to the whole fpecies, in all the varieties of inftrudtion and education, of improvement and degeneracy, is the work of God, and not the operation of fecond caufes.
Such we may juflly account confciencc, or the faculty of dfftinguifliing CHAP.viir. flinguiflilng right conduct from wrong ', fince it appears*, and in all nations and ages, has appeared, in men that are come to ma- turity.
The feeds, as it were, of moral difcernment are planted in the mind by him that made us. They grow up in their proper fea- fon, and are at firft tender and delcate, and eafily warped. Their progrefs depends very much upon their being duly culti- vated and properly exercifed.
It is fo with the power of reafonlng, which all acknowledge to be one of the moil eminent natural faculties of man. It ap- pears not in infancy. It fprings up, by infenfible degrees, as we grow to maturity. But its llrength and vigour depend fo much upon its being duly cultivated and exercifed, that we fee many individuals, nay many nations, in which it is hardly to be per- ceived.
Our intelledual difcernment is not fo flrong and vigorous by nature, as to fecure us from errors in fpeculation. On the con- trary, we fee a great part of mankind, in every age, funk in grofs ignorance of things that are obvious to the more enlight- ened, and fettered by errors and falfe notions, which the hu- man underftanding, duly improved, eafily throws off.
It would be extremely abfurd, from the errors and ignorance of mankind, to conclude that there is no fuch thing as truth; or that man has not a natural faculty of difcerning it, and diftin- guilhing it from error.
In like manner, our moral difcernment of what we ought, and what we ought not to do, is not fo flrong and vigorous by na- ture, as to fecure us from very grofs raiftakes with regard to ourduty.
In OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. 255 In matters of conduci, as \vell as in matters of fpeculation, CHAP.vill. we are liable to be nilfled by prejudices of education, or by wrong- inflruction. But, in matters of condud, we are alfo very liable to have our judgment warped by our appetites and paflions, by fafhion, and l)y tbe contagion of evil exainj)le.
We muft not therefore think, becaufe man has the natural power of difcerning what is right and what is wrong, that he has no need of inilrudioji; that this power has no need of culti- vation and inij)rovement; that he may fafely rely upon the fug- gertions of his mind, or upon opinions he has got, he knows not how.
What (hould we think of a man who, becaufe he has by na- ture the power of moving all his limbs, fhould therefore con- clude that he needs not be taught to dance, or to fence, to ride, or to fwim? All thcfe excrcifes are performed by that power of moving our limbs, which we have by nature; but they will be performed very awkwardly and imperfectly by thofe who have not been trained to them, and praclifed in them.
W^hat (hould we think of the man who, becaufe he has the power by nature of dillinguifhing what is true from what is falfe, fhould conclude that he has no need to be taught mathe- matics, or natural philofopliy, or other fciences? It is by the natural power of human underflanding that every thing in thofe fciences has been difcovered, and that the truths they contain are difcerned. But the underftanding left to itfelf, witliout the aid of inftrudlion, training, habit, and exercife, would make ve- ry fmall progrefs, as every one fees, in perfons unlnllruCted in tliofe matters.
Our natural power of difcerning between right and wrong, needs the aid of inftrudion, education, exercife, and habit, as well as our other natural powers.
There CHA?.vilL There are perfons who, as the fcrlpture fpeaks, have, by rea- fon of ufe, their fenfes exercifed to difcern both good and evil; by that means, they have a much quicker, clearer, and more certain judgment in morals than others.
The man who negledls the means of improvement in the knowledge of his duty, may do very bad things, while he fol- lows the light of fhis mind. And though he be not culpable for acting according to his judgment, he may be very culpable for not uling the means of having his judgment better informed.
It may be obferved. That there are truths, both fpeculative and moral, which a, man left to himfelf would never difcover; yet, when they are fairly laid before him, he owns and adopts them, not barely upon the authority of his teacher, but upon their own intrinfic evideace, and perhaps wonders that he could be fo blind as not to fee them before.
Like a man whofe fon has been long abroad, and fuppofed dead. After many years the fon returns, and is not known by his father. He would never find that this is his fon. But, when he difcovers himfelf, the father foon finds, by many circura- ilances, that this is his fon who was loft, and can be no other perfon.
Truth has an affinity with the human underftanding, which error hath not. And right principles of condu<5t have an affinity with a candid mind, which wrong principles have not. When they are fet before it in a juft light, a well difpofed mind recog- nifes this affinity, feels their authority, and perceives them to be genuine. It was this, I apprehend, that led Plato to conceive that the knowledge we acquire in the prefent ftate, is only re- minifcence of what, in a former ftate, we were acquainted with.
A OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. 257 A man born and brought up in a ilivage nation, maybe taug;ht chap.viii. to purine injury with unrelenting malice, to the tleftrudion of his enemy. Perhnps when he does fo, his heart does not con- demn him.
Yet, if he be fair and candid, and, when the tumult of paflion is over, have the virtues of clemency, generofity, and forgive- nefs, laid before him, as they were taught and exemplified by the divine Author of our religion, he will fee, that it is more noble to overcome himfelf, and fubdue a favage pallion, than to dellroy his enemy. He will fee, that to make a friend of an enemy, and to overcome evil with good, is the greateft of all vidliories, and gives a manly and a rational deliglii, with which the brutifli pallion of revenge deferves not to be compared. He will fee that hitherto he a(5led like a man to his friends, but like a brute to his enemies; now he knows how to make his whole charader confillent, and one part of it to harmonize Nvith ano- ther.
He muft indeed be a great ftranger to his own heart, and to the ftate of human nature, who does not fee that he has need of all the aid which his fituation affords him, in order to know how he ought to aft in many cafes that occur.
A fecond obfervatlon is. That confcience is peculiar to man. We fee not a veftige of it in brute-animals. It is one of thofe prerogatives by which we are raifed above them.
Brute-animals have many faculties in common with us. They fee, and hear, and tafte, and fmell, and feel. They have their pleafures and pains. They have various inftincis and appetites. They have an affedion for their offspring, and fome of them for their herd or flock. Dogs have a wonderful attachment to their mafters, and give manlfeft figns of fympathy with them.
K k Wc CHAP.VIII. We fee, in brute-animals, anger and emulation, pride and fliame. Some of them are capable of being trained by habit, and by rewards and punilbments, to many things ufeful to man.
All this muft be granted; and if our perception of what we ought, and what we ought not to do, could be refolved into any of thefe principles, or into any combination of them, it would follow, that feme brutes are moral agents, and accountable for their condudt.
But common fenfe revolts againft this conclufion. A man "who ferioufly charged a brute with a crime, would be laughed at. They may do adlions hurtful to themfelves, or to man. They may have qualities, or acquire habits, that lead to fuch adlions; and this is all we mean when we call them vicious. But they cannot be immoral j nor can they be virtuous. They are not capable of felf-governraent; and, when they adt accord- ing to the pailion or habit which is llrongefl at the time, they adl according to the nature that God has given them, and no more can be required of them.
They cannot lay down a rule to themfelves, which they are not to tranfgrefs, though prompted by appetite, or ruffled by paflion. We fee no reafon to think that they can form the con- ception of a general rule, or of obligation to adhere to it.
They have no conception of a promife or contract; nor can you enter into any treaty with them. They can neither affirm iwr deny, nor refolve, nor plight their faith. If nature had made them capable of thefe operations, we Ihould fee the figns of them in their motions and geftures.
The moll fagacious brutes never Invented a language, nor learned the ufe of one before invented. They never formed a plan OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. 259 plan of government, nor tranfmittcd inventions to their pofte- CHAP.viii. nty.
Thefe things, and many others that are obvious to conimon obiervation, ihcw that there is juft rcafon why mankind have always conlidered the brute-creation as deftitute of the nobicfl faculties with which God hath endowed man, and particularly of that faculty which makes us moral and accountable beings.
The next obfervation is. That confclence is evidently intend- ed by nature to be the immediate guide and diredor of our con- du(5l, after we arrive at the years of undcrflanding.
There are many things, which, from their nature and ftruc- ture, fhew intuitively the end for which they were made.
A man who knows the flrudlure of a watch or clock, can have no doubt in concluding that it was made to meafure time. And he that knows the ftrudure of the eye, and the properties of light, can have as little doubt whether it was made that we might fee by it.
In the fabric of the body, the intention of the fevcral parts is, in many inftances, fo evident, as to leave no poflibility of doubt. Who can doubt whether the mufcles were intended to move the parts in which they are inferted? Whether the bones were intended to give flrength and fupport to the body; and fomc of them to guard the parts which they inclofe?
When we attend to the ftrudure of the mind, the intention of its various original powers is no lefs evident. Is it not evi- dent, that the external fenfes are given, that we may difcern thofe qualities of bodies which may be ufeful or hurtful to us. Memory, that we may retain the knowledge we have acquired: K k 2 Judgment 26o ESSAY III.
CHAP.viii. Jiirltrment and underftanding, that we may diftinguifli what is '^ ^ * true from what is falfe?
The natural appetites of hunger and thirft, the natural affec- tions of parents to their offspring, and of relations to each o- ther, tlie natural docility and credulity of children, the affec- tions of pity and fympathy with the diftreffed, the attachment we feel to neighbours, to acquaintance, and to the laws and con- flitution of our country j thefe are parts of our conftitution, which plainly point out their end, fo that he muft be blind, or very inattentive, who does not perceive it. Even the paffions of anger and refentment, appear very plainly to be a kind of de- fenfive armour, given by our Maker to guard us againfl inju- ries, and to deter the injurious* Thus it holds generally with regard both to the intelledlual and adive powers of man, that the intention for which they are given, is written in legible charaders upon the face of them* Nor Is this the cafe of any of them more evidently than of confcience. Its intention is manifeflly implied in its office; which is, to fhew us what is good, what bad, and what indiffe- rent in human condud;.
It judges of every adion before it is done. For we can rarely ad fo precipitately, but we have the confcioufnefs that what we are about to do is right, or wrong, or indifferent. Like the bo- dily eye, it naturally looks forward, though its attention may be turned back to the paft.
To conceive, as fome feem to have done, that its office is only to refled on paft adions, and to approve or dilapprove, is, as if a man ftiould conceive, that the office of his eyes is only to look back upon the road he has travelled, and to fee whether it be clean OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. a6i clean or dirty; a miflake which no man can make who has CHAP.viri, made the proper ufe of his eyes.
Confcience prefcribes meafures to every appetite, affcdion, and pafTion, and fays to every otht;r principle of acliou, So far thou niayeft go, but no farther.
We may Indeed tranlgrefs its didates, but we cannot tranf- grcfs them with innocence, nor even with impmiity.
We condemn ourfelves, or, in the language of fcripture, our heart condemns us, whenever we go beyond the rules of right and wrong which confcience prefcribes.
Other principles of adion may have more ftrength, but this only has authority. Its fentence makes us guilty to onrfelvcs, and guilty in the eyes of our Maker, whatever other principle may be fet in oppofition to it.
It is evident therefore, that this principle has, from its nature, an authority to f'.ired and determine with regard to our condud; to judge, to acquit, or to condemn, and even to punlHi; an authority which belongs to no other principle of the human mind.
It is the candle of the Lord fet up within us, to guide our fteps. Other principles may urge and impel, but this only au- thorifes. Other principles ought to be controlled by this; this may be, but never ought to be controlled by any other, and ne- ver can be with innocence.
The authority of confcience over the other adive principles of the mind, I do not confider as a point that requires proof by argu- ment, but as fclf-evident. For it implies no more than this.
That.
CHAP. VIII. That in all cafes a man ought to do his duty. He only who does in all cafes what he ought to do, is the perfed: man.
Of this perfedlion in the human nature, the Stoics formed the idea, and held it forth in their writings, as the goal to which the race of life ought to be dired:ed. Their vDife man was one in whom a regard to the honejium fwallowed up every other prin- ciple of adion.
The "Wife man of the Stoics, like the perfe& orator of the rhe- toricians, was an ideal charadler, and was, in fome refpedls, car- ried beyond nature; yet it was perhaps the moft perfed; model of virtue, that ever was exhibited to the heathen world; and fome of thofe who copied after it, were ornaments to human nature.
The la^ obfervation is. That the moral faculty or confcience is both an adlive and an intelledtual power of the mind.
It is an adive power, as every truly virtuous adion muft be more or lefs influenced by it. Other principles may concur with it, and lead the fame way; but no adlion can be called morally good, in which a regard to what is right, has not fome influence. Thus a man who has no regard to juftice, may pay his juft debt, from no other motive, but that he may not be thrown into prifon. In this adion there is no virtue at all.
The moral principle, in particular cafes, may be oppofed by any of our animal principles. Pafljon or appetite may urge to what we know to be wrong. In every infl:ance of this kind, the moral principle ought to prevail, and the more ditEcult its conquefl is, it is the more glorious.
In fome cafes, a regard to what is right may be the fole mo- tive, without the concurrence or oppofition of any other prin- ciple OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. 263 ciple of adion; as when a judge or an arbiter determines a CHAP.vin pica between two indilTerent perfons, lolely from a regard to juflice.
Thus we fee, that confcience, as an adlive principle, fometimes concurs with other adlive principles, fometimes oppofes them, and fometimes is the fole principle of adlion.
I endeavoured before to fliew, that a regard to our own good upon the whole is not only a rational principle of action, but a leading principle, to which all our animal principles are fubor- dinate. As thefe are, therefore, two regulating or leading prin- ciples in the conftitution of man, a regard to what is bed for us upon the whole, and a regard to duty, it may be afked. Which of thefe ought to yield if they happen to interfere?
Some well meaning perfons have maintained, That all regard to ourfelves and to our own happinefs ought to be extinguifh- ed; that we ftiould love virtue for its own fake only, evea though it were to be accompanied with eternal mifery.
This feems to have been the extravagance of fome Myflics, which perhaps they were led into, in oppofitlon to a contrary extreme of the fchoohnen of the middle ages, who made the de- iire of good to ourfelves to be the fole motive to adion, and virtue to be approvable only on account of its prefent or fu- ture reward.
Jufter views of human nature will teach us to avoid both thefe extremes.
On the one hand, the difinterefted love of virtue is undoubted- ly the nobleft principle in human nature, and ought never to ftoop to any other.
Oa CHAP.vni. On the other hand, there is no adlive principle which God hath planted in our nature that is vicious in itfelf, or tliat ought to be eradicated, even if it were in our power.
They are all ufeful and neceflary in our prefent ftaie. The perfedion of human nature confifts, not in extinguilhing, but inreftraining them within their proper bounds, and keeping them in due fubordination to the governing principles.
As to the fuppofition of an oppofition between the two go- verning principles, that is, between a regard to our happinefs upon the whole, and a regard to duty, this fuppofition is merely imaginary. There can be no fuch oppofition.
While the world is under a wife and benevolent adminiftration, it is impoflible, that any man Ihould, in the ifTue, be a lofer by doing his duty. Every man, therefore, who believes in God, while he is careful to do his duty, may fafely leave the care of his happinefs to him who made him. He is confcious that hfe confults the laft mofl: effedually by attending to the firfl.
Indeed, if we fuppofe a man to be an atheift in his belief, and, at the fame time, by wrong judgment, to believe that vir- tue is contrary to his happinefs upon the whole, this cafe, as Lord Shaftesbury juftly obferves, is without remedy. It will be impoflible for the man to adl, fo as not to contradid: a lead- ing principle of his nature. He muft either facrifice his happi- nefs to virtue, or virtue to happinefs; and is reduced to this miferable dilemma, whether it be beft to be a fool or a knave.
This (hews the ftrong connedllon between morality and the principles of natural religion; as the lalt only can fecure a man from the poflibility of an apprehenfion, that he may play the fool by doing his duty. _ Hence, OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE. 265 Hence, even Lord Shaftesbury, in his gravcfl work, con- cHai'aiii. eludes, T/miI virtue ivilhotit piety is incomplete. Without piety, it IoIl-s its brighteft example, its nobled object, and its firmcft fup- port.
I conclude with obferving;. That confcience, or the moral fa- culty, is likewife an intellectual power.
By it folely we have the orip,inal conceptions or ideas of right and wrong in human condudt. And of right and wrong, there are not only many dilTcrent degrees, but many different fpecies. Juftice and injuftice, gratitude and ingratitude, benevolence and malice, prudence and folly, magnanimity and meannefs, decency and indecency, are various moral forms, all comprehended under the general notion of right and wrong in condudt, all of them objedts of moral approbation or dilapprobation, in a greater or a lefs degree.
The conception of thefe, as moral qualities, we have by our moral faculty j and by the fame faculty, when we compare them together, we perceive various moral relations among them. Thus, we perceive, that juftice is entitled to a fmall degree of praife, tut injufticc to a high degree of blame; and the fame may be faid of gratitude and its contrary. When juftice and gratitude interfere, gratitude mult give place to juftice, and un- merited beneficence muft give place to both.
Many fuch relations between the various moral qualities com- pared together, are immediately difcerned by our moral faculty. A man needs only to confult his own heart to be convinced of them.
All our reafonings in morals, in natural jurifprudence, in the law of nations, as well as our reafonings about the duties of natural religion, and about the moral government of the Deity, L 1 mufl CHAP. VIII. muft be grounded upon the di(3:ates of our moral faculty, as firft principles.
As this faculty, therefore, furniflies the human mind with ma- ny of its original conceptions or ideas, as well as with the firft principles of many Important branches of human knowledge, it may juftly be accounted an intellectual, as well as an adive power of the mind.
ESSAY B OF THE LIBERTY OF MORAL AGENTS.
T'he Notions of Moral Liberty and Necejfity JlalcJ.
Y the liberty of a moral agent, I underfland, a power ovei' the determinations of his own will.
If, in any adion, he had power to will what he did, or not to will it, in that adtion he is free. But if, in every voluntary action, the determination of his will be the necellary confe- quence of fomething involuntary in the ftate of his mind, or of fomething in his external circumllances, he is not free; he has not what I call the liberty of a moral agent, but is fubjcdl to nc- cellity.
This liberty fuppofcs the agent to have uuderftanding and will; for the determinations of the will are the fole objecl about which this power is employed; and there can be no will witliout fuch a degree of underltanding, at leail, as gives the conception of that which we will.
The liberty of a moral agent implies, not only a conception of what he wills, but fome degree of practical judgment or reafon.
For, if he has not the judgment to diicem one determination CHAP. I. to be preferable to another, either in itfelf, or for fome pur- pofe which he intends, what can be the ufe of a power to de- termine? His determinations mufl be made perfecflly in the dark, without reafon, motive or end. They can neither be right nor wrong, wife nor foohfh. Whatever the confequences may be, they cannot be imputed to the agent, who had not the capacity of forefeeing them, or of perceiving any reafon for ading other- wife than he did.
We may perhaps be able to conceive a being endowed with power over the determinations of his will, without any light in his mind to dii'ed: that power to fome end. But fuch power would be given in vain. No exercife of it could be either blamed or approved. As natui*e gives no power in vain, I fee no ground to afcribe a power over the determinations of the will to any being who has no judgment to apply it to the direc- tion of his condudt, no difcernment of what he ought or ought not to do.
For that reafon, in this Eflay, I fpeak only of the liberty of moral agents, who are capable of acfting well or ill, wifely or fooliflaly, and this, for diftindion's fake, I fhall call moral liberty.
What kind, or what degree of liberty belongs to brute aniw mals, or to our own fpecies, before any ufe of reafon, I do not know. We acknowledge that they have not the power of felf- government. Such of their adions as may be called voluntary^ feem to be invariably determined by the paflion or appetite, or affection or habit which is ftrongcft at the time.
This feems to be the law of their conftitution, to which they yield, as the inanimate creation does, without any conception, of the law, or any intention of obedience.
But of civil or moral government, which are addrefled to the ratioiial THE NOTIONS OF MORAL LIBERTY, l^c. 26(jrational powers, and require a conception of the law and an in- CIIAP. I.
tentional obedience, they arc, in the judgment of all mankind, incapable. Nor do I fee what end could be ferved by giving them a power over the determinations of their own will, unlefs to make them intraclable by difcipline, which we fee they are not.
The efTeift of moral liberty is, That it is in the power of the agent to do well or ill. This power, like every other gift of God, may be abufed. The right ufe of this gift of God is to do well and wifely, as far as his beft judgment can direcfl him, and thereby merit efteem and approbation. The abufe of it is to adl contrary to what he knows or fufpcds to be his duty and his wifdom, and thereby juftly merit difapprobation and blame.
By neccjfily^ I underftand the want of that moral liberty which I have above defined.
If there can be a better and a worfe in adions on the fyftem of neccfTity, let us fuppofe a man necelTarily determined in all cafes to will and to do what is befl to be done, he would furely be innocent and inculpable. But, as far as I am able to judge, he w-ould not be entitled to the efteem and moral approbation of thofe who knew and believed this nece/lity. What was, by an ancient author, faid of Cato, might indeed be faid of him. He was good becaufc he could riot be otberwife. But this faying, if undcrftood literally and ftriclly, is not the praife of Cato, but of his conftitution, which wns no more the work of Cato, than his exiftence.
On the other hand, if a man be neceflarily determined to do ill, this cafe feems to me to move pity, but not difapprobation. He was ill, becaufe he could not be otherwife. Who can blame l\im? Ncccllity has no law.
If ESSAY IV.