When a man confiders whether health ought to be preferred •to bodily ftrength, fame to riches, whether a good confcience and the approbation of his Maker, to every thing that can come in competition with it; this appears to me to be an exercife of judgment, and not any impulfe of pafllon or appetite.
Every thing worthy of purfuit, muft be fo, either intrinfically, and upon its own account, or as the means of procuring fomething that is intrinfically valuable. That it is by judgment that we difcern the fitnefs of means for attaining an end, is felf-evident; and in this, I think, all Philofophers agree. But that it is the office of judgment to appreciate the value of an end, or the preference INFLUENCE OF MOTIVES UPON THE WILL. ^x preference due to one end above another, is not granted by fome ^hap. ir.^ Philofophers.
In determining what is good or ill, and, of different goods, which is bcft, they think we muft be guided, not by judgment, but by fome natural or acquired tafte, which makes us rclilh one thing and diflike another.
Thus, if one man prefers cheefe to lobflers, anotlicr lobfters to cheefe, it is vain, fay they, to apply judgment to determine which is right. In like manner, if one man prefers pleafure to virtue, another virtue to pleafure, this is a matter of tafle, judg- ment has nothing to do in it. This feems to be the opinion of fome Fhilofophers.
I cannot help being of a contrary opinion. I think we may form a judgment, both in the queftion about cheefe and lobfters and in the more important queftion about pleafure and virtue.
When one man feels a more agreeable relifli in cheefe, ano- ther in lobfters, this, I grant, requires no judgment; it de- pends only upon the conftitution of the palate. But, if we would determine which of the two has the befl tafte, I think the queftion muft be determined by judgment; and that, with a fraall Ihare of this faculty, we may give a very certain determi- nation, to wit, that the two taftes are equally good, and that both of the perfons do equally well, in preferring what fuits their palate and their llomach.
Nay, I apprehend, that the two perfons who differ in their tafte will, notwithftanding that diftcrencc, agree perfedly in their judgment, that both taftes are upon a footing of equality, and that neither has a juft claim to preference.
Thus it appears, that, in this inftance, the office of tafle is very CHAP. IL very different from that of judgment; and that men, who differ moft in tafte, may agree perfectly in their judgment, even with refpedt to the taftes wherein they differ.
To make the other cafe parallel with this, it mufl be fup- pofed, that the man of pleafure and the man of virtue agree in, their judgment, and that neither fees any reafon to prefer the one courfe of life to the other.
If this be fuppofed, I fhall grant, that neither of thefe perfons has reafon to condemn the other. Each chufes according to his tafte, in matters which his befl judgment determines to be per- fectly indifferent.
But it is to be obferved, that this fuppofitlon cannot have place, when we fpeak of men, or indeed of moral agents. The man who is incapable of perceiving the obligation of virtue, when he ufes his beft judgment, is a man in name, but not in reality. He is incapable either of virtue or vice, and is not a moral agent.
Even the man of pleafure, when his judgment Is unblafled, fees, that there are certain things which a man ought not to do, though he ftiould have a tafte for them. If a thief breaks into his houfe and carries off his goods, he is perfedlly convinced that he did wrong and deferves punifhment, although he had as ftrong a relifli for the goods as he himfelf has for the pleafures he purfues.
It is evident, that mankind, in all ages, have conceived two parts in the human conftitution that may have influence upon our voluntary adions. Thefe we call by the general names of pajfion and reofon; and we Ihall find, in all languages, names that are equivalent.
Under INFLUEN'CE OF MOTIVES UPON THE WILL. 73 Under the former, we comprehend various principles of ac- CHAP. ir. lion, funihir to thofe we obfcrvc in brute-animals, and in men who have not the ufe of reafon. Appetites, offe&ious, pajjions^ are the names by which they are denominated; and thcfe names are not fo accurately thftinguinied in common language, but that they are ufed fomewhat promifcuoufly. This, however, is common to them all, that they draw a man toward a certain objed, without any farther view, by a kind of violence; a vio- lence which indeed may be refifted if the man is mailer of him- felf, but cannot be refifted without a ftruggle.
Cicero's phrafe for exprefling their influence is, " Horainem " hue et illuc rapiunt." Dr Hutcheson ufes a iimilar phrafe, " (^libus agitatur mens et brute quodam impetu fertur." There is no exercile of reafoa or judgment neceflary in order to feel their influence.
"With regard to this part of the human conftitutlon, I fee no difference between the vulgar and Philolbphers.
As to the other part of our conftltution, which is commonly called reafon, as oppofed to pafCon, there have been very fubtile difputes among modern Philolbphers, whether it ought to be called reafon, or be not rather fome internal fenfe or tafle.
"Whether it ought to be called reafon, or by what other name, I do not here enquire, but what kiud of influence it has upon our voluntary actions.
As to this point, I think, all men muft allow that this is the manly part of our conllitution, the other the brute part. This operates in a calm and difpafTionate manner; a manner fo like to judgment or reafon, that even thofe who ilo not allow it to be called by that name, endeavour to account for its having al- K ways 7+ ESSAY ir.
CHAT^iL ways had the namej becaufe, in the manner of its operation, it has a fimilitude to reafon.
As the fimilitude between this principle and reafon has led mankind to give it that name, fo the diflimilitude between it and paflion has led them to fet the two in oppofition. They have confidered this cool principle, as having an influence upon our adlions fo different from pailion, that what a man does cool- ly and deliberately, without paffion, is imputed folely to the man, whether it have merit or demerit; whereas, what he does from paflion is imputed in part to the paflion. If the paflion be conceived to be irrefiftible, the adtion is imputed folely to it, and not at all to the man. If he had power to refift, and ought to have refifted, we blame him for not doing his duty j but, in proportion to the violence of the paflion, the fault is alleviated.
By this cool principle, we judge what ends are moft worthy to be purfued, how far every appetite and paflion may be in- dulged, and when it ought to be refifled.
It direds us, not only to refift the impulfe of paflion when it would lead us wrong, but to avoid the occafions of inflaming it; like Cyrus, who refufed to fee the beautiful captive prin- cefs. In this he a6ted the part both of a wife and a good man j firm in the love of virtue, and, at the fame time, confcious of the weaknefs of human nature, and unwilling to put it to too fevere a trial. In this cafe, the youth of Cyrus, the incompara- ble beauty of his captive, and every circumftance which tended to inflame his defire, exalts the merit of his condudl in refifting it.
It is in fuch adlions that the fuperiority of human nature ap- pears, and the fpecific difference between it and that of brutes. lx\ them we may obferve one paflion combating another, and the flrongeft prevailing^ but we perceive no calm principle in their conftitution, INFLUENCE OF MOTIVES UPON THE WILL. 75 Gonftitution, thatis fuperior to every paflion, and able to give chaiml law to it.
The difference between thcfe two parts of our conftitution may be farther illurtratcd by an inflance or two wherein pailion prevails.
If a man, upon great provocation, flrike another when he ought to keep the peace, he blames himt'elf for what he did, and acknowledges that he ought not to have yielded to his paf- Gon. Every other pcrfon agrees with his fober judgment. They think he did wrong in yielding to his paflion, when he might and ought to have refifled its impulfe. If they thought it im- poffible to bear the provocation, they would not blame him at all; but believing that it was in his power, and was his duty, they impute to him fome degree of blame, acknowledging, at the fame time, that it is alleviated in proportion to the provoca- tion; Co that the trefpafs is imputed, partly to the man, and partly to the paffion. But, if a man deliberately conceives a defign of mifchief againft his neighbour, contrives the means, .ind executes it, the adion admits of no alleviation, it is perfedt- ly voluntary, ahd he bears the whole guilt of the evil in- tended and done.
If a man, by the agony of the rack, is made to difclofe a fe- cret of importance, with which he is entrulted, we pity him more than we blame him. We confider, that fuch is the wcak- nefs of human nature, that the refolutlon, even of a good man, might be overcome by fuch a trial. But if he have ftrength of mind, which even the agony of the rack could not fubduc, we admire his fortitude as truly heroical.
Thus, I think, it appears, that the common fenfe of men (which, in matters of common life, ought to have great authori- ty) has led them to diftinguilh two parts iu the huinuu conllitu- K. 2 tion.
CHAP. 11. tion, which have nifluence upon our vokmtary determinations. There is an irrational part, common to us with brute-animals, confifling of appetites, affedions and pafTions, and there is a cool and rational part. The firft, in many cafes, gives a flrong impulfe, but without judgment, and without authority. The fe- cond is always accompanied with authority. All wifdom and virtue confill in following its did:ates; all vice and folly in dlf- obeying them. We may refill the Impulfes of appetite and paf- fion,.not only without regret, but with lelf-applaufe and triumph; but the calls of reafon and duty can never be refifted, without remorfe and felf-conderanation.
The ancient Philofophers agreed with the vulgar, in making this diftinftion of the principles of acflion. The irrational part the Greeks called o^iJin. Cicero calls it appetUus, taking that word in an extenfive fenfe, fo as to include every propenfity to adtion which is not grounded on judgment.
The other principle the Greeks called ^cuf; Plato calls It the iyr/xenxoi-, or leading principle. " Duplex en'im eft vis animorum at-^ " que natura^ fays Cicero, una pars in oppetitu pofita eji, qua ejl " Of;:**) Grace, qua hominem hue et illuc rapit; altera in ratione, qua " docet, et explanat, quid faciendum fugiendumvefitj ita Jit ut ratio " prafit appetitus obtemperet.''^ The reafon of explaining this dillindion here Is, that thefe two principles influence the will in diiferent ways. Their In- fluence differs, not in degree only, but in kind. This difference we feel, though it may be difKcult to find words to exprefs it. We may perhaps more eafily form a notion of it by a fimili- tude.
It Is one thing to pufh a man from one part of the room to> another; it is a thing of a very different nature to ufe argu- ments to perluade him to leave his place, and go to another,.
He INFLUENCE OF MOTIVES UPON THE WILL. 77 He may yield to the force which puHics him, without any exer- CHARir. cife of liis rational faculties; nay, he mufl: yield to it, if he do not oppofe an equal or a greater force. His liberty is impaired in foinc degree; and, if he has not power fuflicient to oppofe, his liberty is quite taken away, and the motion cannot be im- puted to him at all. The influence of appetite or pafllon feems to me to be very like to this. If the paflion be fuppofed irre- fiftiblc, we impute the adion to it fulely, and not to the man» If he had power to refill, but yields after a flruggle, we impute the adion, partly to the man, and partly to the paffion.
If we attend to the other caie, when the man is only urged by arguments to leave his place, this refembles the operation of the cool or rational principle. It is evident, that, whether he yields to the arguments or not, the determination is wholly his own ad, and is entirely to be imputed to him. Argimients, whatever be the degree of their ftrength, dimlnifh not a man's liberty; they may produce a cool convidlion of what we ought to do, and they can do no more. But appetite and palllon give an impulfe to ad and impair liberty, in proportion to their Ilrength.
With mofl men, the Impulfe of paflion is more efiedual than bare convidion; and, on this account, orators, who would per- fuade, find it necefiary to addrefs the paflions, as well as to con- vince the underftanding; and, in all fyftcms of rhetoric, thefe two have been confidered as different intentions of the orator^ and to be accompliflied by different means.
C II A P.
CHAP. in.
Of Operations of Mind ivhicb may be called Voluntary.
THE faculties of underftanding and will are eafi^y diflin- guifhed in thought, but very rarely, if ever, disjoined in operation.
In moft, perhaps in all the operations of mind for which we have names in language, both faculties are employed, and we are both intelle(5live and adtive.
Whether it be poffible that intelligence may exifl without fome degree of ad;ivity, or impoflible, is perhaps beyond the reach of our faculties to determine; but, I apprehend, that, in fadl, they are always conjoined in the operations of our minds.
It is probable, I think, that there is fome degree of adlivity in thofe operations which we refer to the underflanding; accor- dingly, they have always, and in all languages, been expreffed by adtive verbs; as, I fee, I hear, I remember, I apprehend, I judge, I reafon. And it is certain, that every adl of will mufl be ac- companied by fome operation of the underflanding j for he that wills mufl apprehend what he wills, and apprehenfion belongs to the underflanding.
The operations I am to confider in this chapter, I think, have commonly been referred to the underflanding; but we fhall find that the will has fo great a (hare in them, that they may, with propriety, be called voluntary. They are thefe three, attention^ deliberation, and fxed purpofe or refolution.
Attention may be given to any objedl, either of fenfe or of intelledl.
OF VOL UNTARY OPERATIONS. 79 jntelleft, in order to form a diftind notion of it, or to difcover CHAP. III. its nature, its attributes, or its relations. And fo great is the cffcd of attention, that, without it, it is iinpofliblc to acquire or retain a dlllind: notion of any objed: of thought.
If a man hear a dilcourfe without attention, what does he car- ry away with him? If he fee St Peter's or the Vatican without attention, What account can he give of it? While two per- fons are engaged in interefting difcourfe, the clock {Irikes with- in their hearing, to which they give no attention, What is the confequence? The next minute they know not whether the clock ftruck or not. Yet their ears were not fliut. The ufual imprellion was made upon the organ of hearing, and upon the auditory nerve and brain; but from inattention the found either was not perceived, or pafled in the twinkling of an eye, without leaving the leaft veftige in the memory.
A man fees not what is before his eyes when his mind is oc- cupied about another objedl. In the tumult of a battle a man may be fliot through the body without knowing any thing of the matter, till he difcover it by the lofs of blood or of ftrcns-th.
The moft acute fenfation of pain may be deadened, if the at- tention can be vigoroufly direded to another objetfl. A gentle- man of my acquaintance, in the agony of a fit of the gout, ufed to call for the chefs-board. As he was fond of that game, he acknowledged that, as the game advanced and drew his at- tention, the fenfe of pain abated, and the time feemcd much fhorter.
Archimedes, it is faid, being intent upon a mathematical propofition, when Syracufe was taken by the Romans, knew not the calamity of the city, till a Roman foldier broke in upon his retirement.
CHAP. Ill, retiremenf, and gave him a deadly wound; on which he lament- ed only that he had loft a fine demonftration.
It is needlefs to multiply Inftances to fliew, that when one faculty of the mind is intenfely engaged about any objedl, the other faculties are laid as it were fafl: afleep.
It may be farther obferved, that if there be any thing that can he called genius in matters of mere judgment and reafoning, it feems to confifl chiefly in being able to give that attention to the fubjed which keeps it iteady in the mind, till we can furvey it accurately on all fides.
There is a talent of imagination, which bounds from earth to heaven, and from heaven to earth in a moment. This may be favourable to wit and imagery; but the powers of judging and reafoning depend chiefly upon keeping the mind to a clear [ and fteady view of the fubjed.
Sir Isaac Newton, to one who complimented him upon the force of genius, which had made fuch improvements in mathe- matics and natural philofophy, is faid to have made this reply, which was both modefl: and judicious, That, if he had made any improvements in thofe fciences, it was owing more to patient at- tention than to any other talent.
Whatever be the effedls which attention may produce, ( and I apprehend they are far beyond what is commonly believed,} it is for the moft part in our power.
Every man knows that he can turn his attention to this fub- jedl or to that, for a longer or a fliorter time, and with more or lefs intenfenefs, as he pleafes. It is a voluntary ad:, and depends upon his will.
But what was before obferved of the will in general, is appli- cable OF VOLUNTARY OPERATIONS. 8i cable to this particular exertion of it, That the mind is rarely P^'^|';^"' ill a flate of indilTerence, left to turn its attention to the ob- jedt which to realbn appears moft deferving of it. There is, for the moft part, a bias to feme particular object, more than to any- other J and this not from any judi^ment of its deferving our attention more, but from foine impulfe or proptnfity, grounded on nature or habit.
It is well known that things new and uncommon, things grand, and things that are beautiful, draw our attention, not in proportion to the intereft we have, or think we have in them, but in a much greater proportion.
Whatever moves our paflions or affe(flions draws our atteu" tion, very often, more than we wifli.
You defire a man not to think of an unfortunate event which torments him. It admits of no remedy. The thought of it an- fwers no purpofe but to keep the wound bleeding. He is per- fedlly convinced of all you fay. He knows that he would not feel the afflidion, if he could only not think of it; yet he hard- ly thinks of any thing elfe. Strange! when happinefs and mi- fery ftand before him, and depend upon his choice, he chufes mifery, and reje<^s happinefs with his eyes open!
Yet he wifhes to be happy, as all m.cn do. How fliall we re- concile this contradiction between his judgment and his con- ducfl?
The account of it feems to me to be this: The afflicfling event draws his attention fo ftrongly, by a natural and blind force, that he either hath not the power, or hath not the vigour, of mind to refift its impulfe, though he knows that to yield to it is mifery, without any good to balance it.
L Acute ESSAY II.
Acute bodily pain draws oar attention, and makes it very difficult to attend to any thing elfe, even when attention to the pain ferves no other purpofe but to aggravate it tenfold.
The man who played a game at chefs in the agony of the gout, to engage his attention to another objedl, aded the reafon- able part, and confulted his real happinefs; but it required a great effort to give that attention to his game, which was necef- fary to produce the effed intended by it..
Even when there is no particular object that draws away our attention, there is a defultorinefs of thought in man, and in fome more than in others, which makes it very difficult to give that fixed attention to important objed:s which reafon requires.
It appears, I think, from what has been faid, that the atten- tion we give to objeds, is for the moft part voluntary: That a great part of wifdom and virtue confifls in giving a proper di-^ redlon to our attention j and that however reafonable this ap- pears to the judgment of every man, yet, in fome cafes, it re- quires an effort of felf-command no lefs than the mofl heroic virtues.
Another operation that may be called vduntary^ is delibera- tion about what we are to do or to forbear.
Every man knows that it Is In his power to deliberate or not to deliberate about any part of his conduft; to deliberate for a Ihorter, or a longer time, more carelefsly, or more ferioully: And when he has reafon to fufpedt that his affedion may bias his judgment,, he may either honelily ufe the beft means in his power to form an impartial judgment, or he may yield to his bias, and only feek arguments to juftify what inclination leads him to do. In all thefe points, he determines, he wills, the right or the wrong.
The OF VOLUNTARY OPERATIONS. 83 The general rules of deliberation arc perfectly evident to rca- chap, iir. fon when we conlidcr them abftradly. They are axioms ia morals.
Wc ought not to deliberate in cafes that are perfectly clean No man deliberates whether he ought to chufe happincfs or mi- fcry. No honeit man deliberates whether he fliall Ileal his neigh- bour's property. When the cafe is not clear, when it is of im- portance, and when there is time for deliberation, wc ought to deliberate with more or lefs care, In proportion to the Import- ance of the adlion. In deliberation we ought to weigh things in an even balance, and to allow to every confideration the weight which, in fober judgment, we think it ought to have, and no more. This is to deliberate impartially. Our deliberation fliould be brought to an IfTue in due time, fo that we may not lofe the opportunity of adling while we deliberate.
The axioms of Euclid do not appear to me to have a greater degree of felf-evidence, than thefe rules of deliberation. And as far as a man ads according to them, his heart approves of him, and he has confidence of the approbation of the Searcher of hearts.
But though the manner in which we ought to deliberate be evident to reafon, it Is not always eafy to follow it. Our appe- tites, our afiedions and paflions, oppofe all deliberation, but that which Is employed in finding the means of their gratification. Avarice may lead to deliberate upon the ways of making money, but it does not difiinguilh between the honeil and the dilhoneit.
We ought furely to deliberate how far every appetite and paf- fion may be indulged, and what limits fliould be fet to it. But our appetites and palfions pufh us on to the attainment of their objeds, in the fhortcft road, and without delay.
L 2 Tiuu CHAP. III. Thus it happens, that, if we yield to their impulfe, we fliall often tranfgrefs thofe rules of deliberation, which reafon approves. In this conflia between the didlates of reafon, and the blind im- pulfe of pallion, we mufl voluntarily determine. When we take part with our reafon, though in oppofition to paflion, we ap- prove of our own condudl.
What we call a fault of ignorance, is always owing to the- want of due deliberation. When we do not take due pains to be rightly informed, there is a fault, not indeed in adiing ac- cording to the light we have, but in not uling the proper means to get light. For if we judge wrong, after uling the proper means of information, thei'e is no fault in ading according to that wrong judgment; the error is invincible.
The natural confequence of deliberation on any part of our condud:, is a determination how we fhall ad 3 and if it is not brought to this ilTue it is loft labour.
There are two cafes in which a determination may take place; when the opportunity of putting it in execution is prefent, and when it is at a diftance.
When the opportunity is prefent, the determination to ad is immediately followed by the adion. Thus, if a man determine to rife and walk, he immediately does it, unlefs he is hindered by force, or has loll the power of walking. And if he fit ftill when he has power to walk, we conclude infallibly that he has not determined, or willed to walk immediately.
Our determination or will to ad, is not always the refult of deliberation, it may be the effed of fome paffion or appetite, without any judgment interpofed. And when judgment is in- terpofed, we may determine and ad either according to that judgment or contrary to it.
When OF VOLUNTARY OPERATIONS. ■ 9^ When a man fits down hungry to dine, he eats from appetite, C!i\P. iir. very often without exercifing his judgment at all; nature in- vites and he obeys the call, as the ox, or the horfe, or as an in- fant does.
When we converfe with perfons whom we love or refpect, we fay and do civil things merely from affedion or from refpe(ft. They flow fpontancoufly from the heart, without requiring any judgment. In fuch cafes we adl as brute-animals do, or as child- ren before the ufe of reafon. We feel an impulfe in our na- ture, and we yield to it.
When a man eats merely from appetite, he does not confider the pleafure of eating, or its tendency to health. Thefe coiifi- derations are not in his thoughts. But we can fuppofe a man who eats with a view to enjoy the pleafure of eating. Such a nian reafons and judges. He will take care to ufe the proper means of procuring an appetite. He will be a critic in tafles, and make nice difcriminations. This man ufes his rational fa- culties even in eating. And however contemptible this applica- tion of them may be, it is an exercife of which, I apprehend, brute-animals are not capable.
In like manner, a man may fay or do civil things to another, not from affedtion, but in order to ferve fome end by it, or be- caufe he thinks it his duty.
To a(5l with a view to fome dillant interefl, or to act from a fenfe of duty, feems to be proper to man as a reafonable being; but to a£l merely from pallion, from appetite, or from afleclion, is common to him with the brute-animals. In the lail cafe there is no judgment required, but in the firft there is.
To acft againft what one judges to be for his real good upon the whole, is folly. To act againft what he judges to be his du- ty, S6 ESSAY II.
CHAP. Ill, ty^ ]g immorality. It cannot be denied that there are too many inftances of both in human Hfe. Video 7neliora proboque, deteriora feqttor, is neither an impoflible, nor an unfrequent cafe.
"While a man does what he really thinks wifefl and heft to be done, the more his appetites, his affeftions and paffions draw him the contrary way, the more he approves of his own con- dud, and the more he is entitled to the approbation of every rational being.
The ^/6/r<y operation of mind I mentioned, which may be cal- led voluntary, Is, A fixed purpofe or refolutlon with regard to our future condudt.
This naturally takes place, when any adllon, or courfe of ac- tion, about which we have deliberated, is not immediately to be executed, the occafion of adiing being at fome diflance.
A fixed purpofe to do, fome time hence, fomething which we believe fhall then be in our power, is ftrldly and properly a de- termination of will, no lefs than a determination to do it in- flantly. Every definition of volition agrees to it. Whether the opportunity of doing what we have determined to do be prefent or at fome diflance, is an accidental circumftance which does not affedl the nature of the determination, and no good reafon can be afligned why It fhould not be called volition in the one cafe, as well as in the other. A purpofe or refolutlon, therefore, is truly and properly an adl of will.
Our purpofes are of two kinds. We may call the one particu- lar, the other general. By a particular purpofe, I mean that which has for its objedl an individual adion, limited to one time and place; by s. general \)nx\io(Q, that of a courfe or train of adion, intended for fome general end, or regulated by fome general rule.
Thus, OF VOLUNTARY OPERATIONS. 87 Tlius, I may purpofe to go to London next winter. When p'^'"^''^'^; the time comes, 1 execute my purpofe, if I continue of the fame mind j and the purpofe, when executed, is no more. Thus it is with every particuhir purpofe.
A general purpofe may continue for life; and, after many par- ticular adiions have been done in confcq^uence of it, may re- main and regulate future adions.
Thus, a young man propofes to follow the profefllon of law, of medicine, or of theology. This general purpofe diredls the courfe of his reading and lludy. It drredts him in the choice- of his company and companions, and even of his diverfions. It determines his travels and the place of his abode. It has in- fluence upon his drefs and manners, and a confiderable elTec^ in forming his charader.
There are other fixed purpofes which have a ftill greater ef- fe<ft in forming the charader. I mean fuch as regard our mo- ral conduct.
Suppofe a man to have exercifed his intelle»flual and moral faculties, fo far as to have dillind notions of juftice and inju- ftice, and of the confequences of both, and, after due delibera- tion, to have formed a fixed purpofe to adhere inflexibly to ju- nice, and never to handle the wages of iniquity.