Secondly, Suppofing men difpofed by fome principle in their na- ture to rely on declarations and promifes; yet if men found in experience, that there was no fidelity on the other part in ma- king and in keeping them, no man of common underftanding would truft to them, and fo they would become ufelefs.
Hence it appears, thirdly, That this power of giving teftimony, and of promifing, can anfwer no end in fociety, unlefs there be a confiderable degree, both of fidelity on the one part, and of truft on the other. Thefe two muft ftand or fall together, and one of them cannot pofllbly fubfift without the other.
Fourthly, It may be obferved, that fidelity in declarations and promifes, and its counter-part, truft and reliance upon them, form a fyftem of focial intercourfe, the moft amiable, the moft ufeful, that can be among men. Without fidelity and truft, there can be no human fociety. There never was a fociety, even of favages, nay even of robbers or pirates, in which there was not a great degree of veracity and of fidelity among them- felves. Without it man would be the moft diflocial aninuil that God has made, tlis ftate would be in reality whatHoBBEs con- ceived the ftate of nature to be, a ftate of war of every man againft every man j nor could this war ever terminate in peace.
It may be obferved, in the fifth place, that man is evidently made for living in fociety. His focial afTcdions ftiew this as evidently, as that the eye was made for feeing. His focial ope- rations, particularly thole of teftifying and promifing, make it no Icfs evident.
From From CHAP. VI, From thefe obfervations it folldws, that if no provifion were made by nature, to engage men to fidelity in declarations and promifes, human nature would be a contradidion to itfelf, made for an end, yet without the neceflary means of attaining it. As if the fpecies had been furnifhed with good eyes, but with- out the power of opening their eye-lids. There are no blunders of this kind in the works of God. Wherever there is an end intended, the means are admirably fitted for the attainment of it J and fo we find it to be in the cafe before us.
For we fee that children, as foon as they are capable of under- flandlng declarations and promifes, are led by their conftitution to rely upon them. They are no lefs led by conftitution to ve- racity and candour, on their own part. Nor do they ever de- viate from this road of truth and fincerlty, until corrupted by bad example and bad company. This difpofition to fincerity In themfelves, and to give credit to others, whether we call it in- Jlm6l, or whatever name we give it, mufl be confidered as the effed of their conftitution.
So that the things efTentlal to human fociety, I mean good faith on the one part, and truft on the other, are formed by na- ture in the minds of children, before they are capable of know- ing their utility, or being influenced by confiderations either of duty or intereft.
When we grow up fo far as to have the conception of a right and a wrong in condud, the turpitude of lying, falfehood, and difhonefty, is difcerned, not by any train of reafoning, but by an immediate perception. For we fee that every man difap- proves it in others, even thofe who are confcious of it in them- felves.
Every man thinks hlmfelf injured and ill ufed, and feels re- fentment, when he Is Impofed upon by it. Every man takes it as a reproach when falfehood is imputed to him. Thefe are the OF JUSTICE. 455 the clcareft evidences, tliat all men difapprove of fulfeliood, when chap. vi. their judgment is not biafled.
I know of no evidence that has been given of any nation fo rude, as not to have thefe fcntiments. It is certain that dumb people have them, and difcover them about the fame period of life, in which they appear in thofe who fpeak. And it may rca- fonably be thought, that dumb perfons, at that time of life, have had as little advantage, with regard to morals, from their educa- tion, as the greateft favages.
Every man come to years of refledion, when he pledges his veracity or fidelity, thinks he has a right to be credited, and is affronted if he is not. But there cannot be a fliadow of right to be credited, unlefs there be an obligation to good faith. For right on one hand, ueceflarily implies obligation on the other.
When we fee that in the mod favage (late, that ever was known of the human race, men have alw^ays lived in focieties greater or lefs, this of itfelf is a proof from facft, that they have had that fenfe of their obligation to fidelity, without which no human fociety can fubfift.
From thefe obfervations, I think, it appears very evident, that as fidelity on one part, and truft on the other, are elfcntial to that intercourfc of men, which we call human fociety; fo the Author of our nature has made wife provifion for perpetuating them among men, in that degree that is neceflary to human fo- ciety, in all the different periods of human life, and in all the llages of human improvement and degeneracy.
In early years, we have an innate difpofition to them. In riper years, we feel our obligation to fidelity as much as to any moral duty \yhatfocver.
Nor CHAP. VI, jvjoj- is it necefTary to mention the collateral inducements to this virtue, from confiderations of prudence, which are obvious to every man that refleds. Such as, that it creates truft, the moft efFedtual engine of human power; that it requires no arti- fice or concealment; dreads no detection j that It infpires cou- rage and magnanimity, and is the natural ally of every virtue; fo that there is no virtue whatfoever, to which our natural ob- ligation appears more ftrong or more apparent.
An obfervation or two, with regard to the nature of a con- trad:, will be fufficient for the prefent purpofe.
It is obvious that the preftation promifed mull be underftood by both parties. One party engages to do fuch a thing, another accepts of this engagement. An engagement to do, one does not know what, can neither be made nor accepted. It is no lefs obvious, that a contract is a voluntary tranfadtion.
But It ought to be obferved, that the will, which is eflential to a contract, is only a will to engage, or to become bound. We muft beware of confounding this will, with a will to perform what we have engaged. The laft can fignify nothing elfe than an intention and fixed purpofe to do what we have engaged to do. The will to become bound, and to confer a right upon the other party, is indeed the very eiTence of a contrad:; but the pur- pofe of fulfilling our engagement, is no part of the contrad at all.
A purpofe is a folitary ad of mind, which lays no obliga- tion on the perfon, nor confers any right on another. A fraudu- lent perfon may contrad with a fixed purpofe of not perform- ing his engagement. But this purpofe makes no change with regard to his obligation. He Is as much bound as the honeft man, who contrads with a fixed purpofe of performing.
As the contrad is binding without any regard to the purpofe, fo OF THE NATURE OF A CONTRACT. 457 fo there may be a purpofe without any contrail. A purpofe Is chat. \'i. no contradt, even when It is declared to the perfon for wliofe benefit it is intended. 1 may fay to a man, I Intend to do fiieh a thing for your benefit, but I come imdcr no engagement. Every man underftands the meaning of this fpeech, and fees no contradlcllon in It: Whereas, if a purpofe declared were the fame thing with a contract, fuch a fpeech would be a contra- didion, and would be the fame as if one fliould fay, I promlfe to do fuch a thing, but I do not promlfe.
All this Is fo plain to every man of common fenfe, that it would have been unuecefTary to be mentioned, had not fo acute a man as Mr Hume grounded fome of the contradictions he finds in a contracft, upon confounding a will to engage in a con- tracft with a will or purpofe to perform the engagement.
I come now to confider the fpeculatlons of that Author with regard to contrails.
In order to fupport a favourite notion of his own. That juftice is not a natural but an artificial virtue, and that it derives Its whole merit from its utility, he has laid down fome principles which, I think, have a tendency to fubvert all faith and fair- dealing among mankind.
In the third volume of the Treatlfe of Human Nature, p. 40. he lays it down as an undoubted maxim, That no aclion can be virtuous or morally good, unlefs there be, In human nature, fome motive to produce It, dlfUnct from its morality. Let us apply this undoubted maxim In an inlhmce or two. If a man keeps his word, from this fole motive, that he ought to do fo, this is no virtuous or morally good a<flion. If a man pays his debt from this motive, that julllce requires this of him, this Is no virtuous or morally good adion. If a judge or an arbiter gives a fentence in a caufe, from no other motive but regard to M m m jurticc, CHAP. VL j\iflJce, this is no virtuous or morally good a(flion. Thefe ap- pear to me to be ihocking abfurdities, which no metaphyfical fubtilty can ever juftify.
Nothing is more evident than that every human adion takes its denomination and its moral nature from the motive from which it is performed. That is a benevolent adlion, which is done from benevolence. That is an ad of gratitude which is done from a fentiment of gratitude. That is an ad: of obedi- ence to God, which is done from a regard to his command.. And, in general, that is an ad of virtue which Is done from a regard to virtue.
Virtuous adions are fo far from needing other motives, be- lides their being virtuous, to give them merit, that their merit is then greateft and mod confpicuous, when every motive that can be put In the oppofite fcale is outweighed by the fole con- fideration of their being our duty.
This maxim, therefore, of Mr Hume, That no adion can be virtuous or morally good, unlefs there be fome motive to pro- duce it diftind from Its morality, is fo far from being undoubt- edly true, that it is undoubtedly falfe. It was never, fo far as I know, maintained by any moralifl:, but by the Epicureans j and it favours of the very dregs of that fed. It agrees well with the principles of thofe who maintained, that virtue is an empty name, and that it Is entitled to no regard, but in as far as it ml- nifters to pleafure or profit.
I believe the author of this maxim aded upon better moral principles than he wrote j and that what Cicero fays of Epi- curus, may be applied to him: Redarguitur ipfe a fefe^ vincunttir- que fcripta ejus probitate ipfius et moribus, et ut alii exijlimantur dicere melius quam facer e,fic ilk mihi vidctur facere melius quarn dicere.
But OF THE NATURE OF A CONTRACT.
But let us fee how lie applies this maxim to contrads. I give CHAP. vi. you his words from the place formerly cited. " I fuppofe, " fays he, a perfon to have lent me a fum of money, on condi- " tion that it be reftored in a few days; and, after the expira- '• tion of the term agreed on, he demands tlie fimi. I aHc, " what reafon or motive have I to reftore the money? It will ** perhaps be faid, that my regard to juilice and al)horrence of *' villany and knavery, are fufficient reafons for me, if I have " the leafl; grain of honefty, or fcnfe of duty and obligation. " And this anfwer, no doubt, is jufl and fatisfaclory to man in " his civilized ftate, and when trained up according to a certain " difcipline and education. But, in his rude and more natural ** condition, if you are pleafed to call fuch a condition natural, " this anfwer would be rejeded as perfedly unintelligible and " fophiftical."
Tiie dodrine we are taught in this palTage is this, That though a man, in a civilized Itate, and when trained up accord- ing to a certain difcipline and education, may have a regard to juftice, and an abhorrence of villany and knavery, and fome fenfe of duty and obligation; yet to a man in his rude and more natural condition, the confiderations of honefty, jullice, duty and obligation, will be perfectly unintelligible and fophiftical. And this is brought as an argument to ftiew, that juftice is not a natural but an artificial virtue.
I fliall offer fome obfervations on this argument.
I. Although it may be true, that what is unintelligible to man in his rude ftate may be intelligible to him in his civilized ftate, I cannot conceive, that what is fophiftical in the rude llatc ihould change its nature, and become juft reafoning, when man is more improved. What is a fophifm, will always be fo; nor can any change in the ftate of the perfon who judges, make that to be juft reafoning Mhich before was fojihiltical. Mr IM m m 2 HuMB'f IM m m 2 HuMB'f ^^^ZlZi' Hume's argument requires, that to man in his rude ftate, the motives to juflice and honefly fhould not only appear to be fo- phiflical, but fhould really be fo. If the motives were juft in themfelves, then jullice would be a natural virtue, although the rude man, by an error of his judgment, thought otherwife. But if juftice be not a natural virtue, which is the point Mr Hume intends to prove, then every argument, by which man in his natural ftate may be urged to it, mufl be a fophifm in re- ality, and not in appearance only j and the effed: of difcipllne and education in the civilized ftate can only be to make thofe motives to juftice appear juft and fatisfadlory, which, in their own nature, are fophiftical, 2. It were to be wiftied, that this ingenious Author had fliewn us, why that ftate of man, in which the obligation to honefty, and an abhorrence of villany, appear perfectly unintelligible and fophiftical, ftiould be his more natural JIate.
It is the nature of human fociety to be progreflive, as much as it is the nature of the individual. In the individual, the ftate of infancy leads to that of childhood, childhood to youth, youth to manhood, and manhood to old age. If one ftiould fay, that the ftate of infancy is a more natural ftate than that of manhood or of old age, I am apt to think, that this would be words without any meaning. In like manner, in human fociety, there is a natural progrefs from rudenefs to civilization, from ignorance to knowledge. What period of this progrefs fliall we call man's natural ftate? To me they appear all equally natural. Every ftate of fociety is equally natural, wherein men have ac- cefs to exert their natural powers about their proper objeds, and to improve thofe powers by the means which their fituation affords.
Mr Hume, indeed, ftiews fome timidity in affirming the rude ftate to be the more natural ftate of man; and, therefore, adds this OF THE NATURE OF A CONTRACT. 461 this qualifying parenthefis, If you are pleafed to call fiich a con- chap, vr dition natural.
But It ought to be obfcrvcd, That if the premifcs of his argu- ment be weakened by this claufe, the fame weaknefs mull be communicated to the conclufion; and the concluiion, according to the rules of good reafoning, ought to be, That juflice is aa artificial virtue, if you be pleafed to call it artificial.
3. It were likewife to be wifhed, tliat Mr Hume had fhewn from fad, that there ever did exift fuch a (late of man as that which he calls his more natural flace. It is a flate wherein a man borrows a fum of money, on the condition that he is to re- ftore it in a few days; yet when the time of payment comes, his obligation to repay what he borrowed is perfectly unintelli- gible and fophiftical. It would have been proper to have given at leafl a fmgle inllance of fome tribe of the human race that was found to be in this natural (late. If no fuch inftance can be given, it is probably a (late merely imaginary; like that ftate, which fome have imagined, wherein men were Ouran Oii- tangs, or wherein they were (i(hcs with tails.
Indeed, fuch a ftate feems Impodiblc. That a man fliould lend without any conception of his having a right to be repaid; or that a man (hould borrow on the condition of paying in a few days, and yet have no conception of his obligation, feems to me to involve a contradidlion.
I grant, that a humane man may lend without any expecta- tion of being repaid; but that he (hould lend without any con- ception of a right to be repaid, is a contradidion. In like man- ner, a fraudulent man may borrow without an intention of pay- ing back; but that he could borrow, while an obligation to re- pay is perfe(flly unintelligible to him, this is a contradiction.
The CHAP. VI. The fame author, in his Enquiry into the Principles of Mo- rals, fedt. 3. treating of the fame fubjed, has the following note: ^' 'Tis evident, that the will or confent alone never transfers " property, nor caufes the obligation of a promife, (for the fame " reaibning extends to both) but the will mull be exprefled by " words or ligns, in order to impofe a tie upon any man. The " expreflion being once brought in as fubfervient to the will, " foon becomes the principal part of the promife; nor will a " man be lefs bound by his word, though he fecretly give a dif- " ferent diredlion to his intention, and with-hold the affent of " his mind. But though the expreflion makes, on moll occa- " fions, the whole of the promife; yet it does not always fo; " and one who fliould make ufe of any expreflion, of which he " knows not the meaning, and which he ufes without any fenfe " of the confequences, would not certainly be bound by it. ^' Nay, though he know its meaning; yet if he ufes it in jeft " only, and with fuch ligns as Ihew evidently he has no ferious " intention of binding himfelf, he would not be under any ob- " ligation of performance j but it is neceflary that the words be *' a perfeft expreflion of the will, without any contrary figns. ** Nay, even this we mufl; not carry fo far as to imagine, that " one whom, from our quicknefs of underftanding, we conjec- ■" tui-e to have an intention of deceiving us, is not bound by *' his expreflion or verbal promife, if we accept of it, but mufl; " limit this conclufion to thofe cafes, where the figns are of a " different nature from thofe of deceit. All thefe contradic- ** tions are eafily accounted for, if juftice arifes entirely from " its ufefulnefs to fociety, but will never be explained on any " other hypothefis."
Here we have the opinion of this grave moralifl: and acute metaphyfician, that the principles of honefty and fidelity are at bottom a bundle of contradidions. This is one part of his moral OF THE NATURE OF A CONTRACT.
moral fyflem which, I cannot help thinking, borders upon licen- tioufnefs. It furely tends to give a very unfavourable notion of that cardinal virtue, Nvithout which no man has a title to be called an lioneft man. What regard can a man pay to the vir- tue of fidelity, who believes that its efleiitial rules contradidt each other? Can a man be bound by contradidory rules of con- dud? No more, furely, than he can be bound to believe con- tradictory principles.
He tells us, " That all thefe contradi(5tions are eafdy ac- " counted for, if juftice arifes entirely from its ufefulnefs to " fociety, but will never be explained upon any other hypo- " thefis."
I know not indeed what is meant by accounting for contra- dictions, or explaining them. I apprehend, that no hypothefis can make that which is a contradiction to be no contradiction. However, without attempting to account for thefe contradictions upon his own hypothefis, he pronounces, in a decifive tone, that they will never be explained upon any other hypothefis.
What if it fliall appear, that the contradictions mentioned in this paragraph, do all take their rife from two capital miftakes the author has made with regard to tlie nature of promifes and contracts; and if, when thefe are corrected, there fhall not appear a Ihadow of contradiction in the cafes put by him?
The firft miftake is, That a promife is fome kind of will, con- fent or intention, which may be exprelfed, or may not be ex- prefled. This is to millake the nature of a promife: For no will, no confent or intention, that is not exprefl'ed, is a promife. A promife, being a fociai tranfaction between two parties, with- out being exprefled can have no exiftcnce.
Another capital miftake that runs through the pafTiige cited CHAP. VI. js That this will, confent or intention, which makes a promife, is a will or intention to perform what we promife. Every man knows that there may be a fra' dulent pro I e, made without in- tention of performing. But the intention to perform the pro- mife, or not to perform it, whether the intention be known to the other party or not, makes no part of the promife, it is a fo- litary a6l of the mind, and can neither conftltute nor diffolve an obligation. What makes a promife is, that it be exprefled to the other party with underftanding, and with an intention to become bound, and that it be accepted by him.
Carrying thefe remarks along with us, let us review the paf- fage cited.
Fir^, He obferves, that the will or confent alone does not caufe the obligation of a promife, but it muft be expreffed.
I anfwer: The will not exprefled is not a promife; and is it a contradiction that that which is not a promife fhould not caufe the obligation of a promife? He goes on: The expref- iion being once brought in as fubfervient to the will, foon be- comes a principal part of the promife. Here it is fuppofed, that the expreflion was not originally a conflituent part of the pro- mife, but it foon becomes fuch. It is brought in to aid and be fubfervient to the promife which was made before by the will. If Mr Hume had confidered, that it is the exprellion accompa- nied with underftanding and will to become bound, that confl:i- tutes a promife, he would never have faid, that the exprellion foon becomes a part, and is brought In as fubfervient.
He adds. Nor will a man be lefs bound by his word, though he fecretly gives a different diredion to his intention, and with- holds the affent of his mind.
The cafe here put needs fome explication. Either it means, that OF THE NATURE OF A CONTRACT. 465 that the man knowingly and vohmturily gives his word, with- CHAI\VI.
out any intention of giving his word; or that he gives it without the intention of keeping it, and performing what he promifes.
The Lift of thefe is indeed a poilible cafe, and is, I apprehend, what Mr Hume means. But the intention of keeping his promife is no part of the promife, nor does it in the leall afledl the obligation of it, as we have often obferved.
If the Author meant that the man may knowingly and volun- tarily give his word, without the intention of giving his word, this is impolllble: For fuch is the nature of all focial aifts of the mind, that, as they cannot be without being exprefled, lb they cannot be exprefled knowingly and willingly, but they muft be. If a man puts a queftion knowingly and willingly, it is impof- fible that he fhould at the fame time will not to put it. If he gives a command knowingly and willingly, it is impolllble that he Ihould at the fame time will not to give it. We cannot have contrary wills at the fame time. And, in like manner, if a man knowingly and willingly becomes bound by a promife, it is im- polllble that he ftiould at the fame time will not to be bound.
To fuppofe, therefore, that when a man knowingly and wil- lingly gives his word, he with-holds that will and intention which makes a promife, is indeed a contradidion; but the con- tradidion is not in the nature of the promife, but in the cafe fuppofed by Mr Hume.
He adds, though the exprefllon, for the moft part, makes the whole of the promife, it does not always fo.
I anfwer. That the exprefllon, if it is not accompanied with underftanding, and will to engage, never makes a promife. The Author here alTumes a polUdate, which no body ever granted, and which can only be grounded on the impoflible fuppolition made in the former fentence. And as there can be no promife without knowledge, and will to engage, is it marvellous that N u u words ESSAY V.
CHAP. VI. words which are not underrtood, or words fpoken in jeft, and "^ without any intention to become bound, fliould not have the effed of a promife?
The laft cafe put by Mr Hume, is that of a man who pro- mifes fraudulently with an intention not to perform, and whofe fraudulent intention is difcovered by the other party, who, not- withftanding, accepts the promife. He is bound, fays Mr Hume, by his verbal promife. Undoubtedly he is bound, be- caufe an intention not to perform the promife, whether known to the other party or not, makes no part of the promife, nor affefts its obligation, as has been repeatedly obferved.
From what has been faid, I think it evident, that to one who attends to the nature of a promife or contrad:, there is not the leaft appearance of contradidrion in the principles of morali- ty relating to contrads.
It would indeed appear wonderful, that fuch a man as Mr Hume Ihould have impofed upon himfelf in fo plain a matter, if we did not fee frequent inftances of ingenious men, whofe zeal in fupporting a favourite hypothefis, darkens their underftand- ing, and hinders them from feeing what is before their eyes.
APPROBATION IMPLIES JUDGMENT. 467 CHAr.VII.
That moral Approbation implies a real judgment.
THE approbation of good adlions, and dlfapprobation of bad, are fo familiar to every man come to years of mider- flanding, that it feems flrange there fhould be any difpute a- bout their nature.
Whether we reflect upon our own condudl, or attend to the condudl of others with whom we live, or of whom we hear or read, we cannot help approving of fome things, difapproving of others, and regarding many with perfett indifference.
Thefc operations of our minds we are confcious of every day, and ahnoft every hour we live. Men of rijje underftanding are capable of reflecting upon them, and of attending to what palTes in their own thoughts on fuch occafions; yet, for half a cen- tury, it has been a ferious difpute among Philofophers, what this approbation and diiapprobation is, Whether there be a real judgment included in it, which, like all other judgments, muft be true or falfe; or. Whether it include no more but fome agree- able or uneafy feeling, in the perfon who approves or difap- proves.
Mr Hume obferves very juftly, that this is a controverfy7?j;7- ed of late. Before the modern fyftem of ideas and impreilions was introduced, nothing would have appeared more abl'uril, than to fay. That when I condemn a man for what he has done, I pafs no judgment at all about the man, but only exprefs fome uneafy feeling in myfelf.
Nor did the new fyftem produce this difcovery at once, but gradually, by feveral fteps, according as its confequences were CHAP. VII. more accurately traced, and its fpirit more thoroughly imbibed by fuccefllve Philofophers.
Des Cartes and Mr Locke went no farther than to maintain that the fecondary qualities of body, heat and cold, found, co- lour, tafte and fmell, which we perceive and judge to be in the external object, are mere feelings or fenfations in our minds, there being nothing in bodies themfelves to which thefe names can be applied j and that the office of the external fenfes is not to judge of external things, but only to give us ideas or fenfa- tions, from which we are by reafoning to deduce the exiftence of a material world without us, as well as we can.
Arthur Collier and Bifhop Berkeley difcovered, from the fame principles, that the primary, as well as the fecondary, qualities of bodies, fuch as exteniion, figure, folidity, motion, are only fenfations in our minds 3 and therefore, that there is no material world without us at all.