MORAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY.

CHAPTER IV.
The Scriptures.

WHOEVER expects to find in the Scriptures a specific direction for every moral doubt that arises, looks for more than he will meet with. And to what a magnitude such a detail of particular precepts would have enlarged the sacred volume, may be partly understood from the following consideration:-The laws of this country, including the acts of the legislature, and the decisions of our supreme courts of justice, are not contained in a fewer than fifty folio volumes. And yet it is not once in ten attempts that you can find the case you look for, in any law book whatever: to say nothing of those numerous points of conduct, concerning which the law professes not to prescribe or determine any thing. Had then the same particularity, which obtains in human laws so far as they go, been attempted in the Scriptures, throughout the whole extent of morality, it is manifest they would have been by much too bulky to be either read or circulated; or rather, as St. John says, 'even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written."

Besides this, the Scriptures commonly pre-suppose in the person to whom they speak, a knowledge of the principles of natural justice; and are employed not so much to teach new rules of morality, as to enforce the practice of it by new sanctions, and by a greater certainty; which last seems to be the proper business of a revelation, from God, and what was most wanted.

Thus the "unjust, covenant-breakers, and extortioners," are condemned in Scripture, supposing it known, or leaving it, where it admits of doubt, to moralists to determine, what injustice, extortion, or breach of covenant, are.

The above considerations are intended to prove that the Scriptures do not supersede the use of the science of which we profess to treat, and at the same time to acquit them of any charge of imperfection or insufficiency on that account.

CHAPTER V.

The Moral Sense.

"The father of Caius Toranius had been proMorality is taught in Scripture in this wise. scribed by the triumvirate. Caius Torunius General rules are laid down, of piety, justice, coming over to the interests of that party, disbenevolence, and purity: such as worshiping God covered to the officers, who were in pursuit of his in spirit and in truth; doing as we would be done father's life, the place where he concealed himself, by; loving our neighbour as ourself; forgiving and gave them withal a description, by which others, as we expect forgiveness from God; that they might distinguish his person, when they mercy is better than sacrifice; that not that which found him. The old man, more anxious for the entereth into a man, (nor, by parity of reason, safety and fortunes of his son, than about the little any ceremonial pollutions,) but that which pro- that might remain of his own life, began immeceedeth from the heart, defileth him. These rules diately to inquire of the officers who seized him, are occasionally illustrated, either by fictitious ex- whether his son was well, whether he had done amples, as in the parable of the good Samaritan; his duty to the satisfaction of his generals. That and of the cruel servant, who refused to his fellow-son (replied one of the officers,) so dear to thy servant that indulgence and compassion which his master had shown to him: or in instances which actually presented themselves, as in Christ's reproof of his disciples at the Samaritan village; his praise of the poor widow, who cast in her last mite; his censure of the Pharisees, who chose out the chief rooms, and of the tradition, whereby they evaded the command to sustain their indigent parents: or, lastly, in the resolution of questions, which those who were about our Saviour proposed to him; as his answer to the young man who asked him, “What lack I yet?" and to the honest scribe, who had found out, even in that age and country, that "to love God and his neighbour, was more than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifice."

affections, betrayed thee to us; by his information thou art apprehended, and diest.' The officer with this, struck a poniard to his heart, and the unhappy parent fell, not so much affected by his fate, as by the means to which he owed it."*

Now the question is, whether, if this story were related to the wild boy caught, some years ago, in the woods of Hanover, or to a savage without experience, and without instruction, cut off in his infancy from all intercourse with his species, and, consequently, under no possible influence of example, authority, education, sympathy or habit; whether, I say, such a one would feel, upon the relation, any degree of that sentiment of disapprobation of Toranius's conduct which we feel,

or not?

would.

And this is in truth the way in which all pracThey who maintain the existence of a moral tical sciences are taught, as Arithmetic, Grammar, sense; of innate maxims; of a natural conscience; Navigation, and the like.--Rules are laid down, that the love of virtue and hatred of vice are inand examples are subjoined: not that these ex-stinctive; or the perception of right and wrong amples are the cases, much less all the cases, intuitive; (all which are only different ways of which will actually occur; but by way only of expressing the same opinion,) affirm that he explaining the principle of the rule, and as so many specimens of the method of applying it.The chief difference is, that the examples in Scripture are not annexed to the rules with the didactic regularity to which we are now-a-days accustomed, but delivered dispersedly, as particular occasions suggested them; which gave them, however, (especially to those who heard them, and were present to the occasions which produced them,) an energy and persuasion, much beyond what the same or any instances would have appeared with, in their places in a system.

*"Caius Toranius triumvirum partes secutus, proscripti patris sui prætorii et ornati viri latebras, ætatem, notasque corporis, quibus agnosci posset, centurionibus edidit, qui eum, persecuti sunt. Senex de filii magis vita incolumis esset, et an imperatoribus satisfaceret, interet incrementis, quam de reliquo spiritu suo sollicitus, an rogare eos coepit. E quibus unus: Ab illo,' inquit,

quem tantopere diligis, demonstratus nostro ministerio,

filii indicio occideris: protinusque pectus ejus gladio

quam ipsa caede, miserior."-VALER. MAX. lib. ix trajecit. Collapsus itaque est infelix, auctore cadis

cap. 11.

They who deny the existence of a moral sense, | of virtue, even in instances where we have no &c. affirm that he would not. And upon this, issue is joined.

As the experiment has never been made, and, from the difficulty of procuring a subject (not to mention the impossibility of proposing the question to him, if we had one,) is never likely to be made, what would be the event, can only be judged of fron probable reasons.

They who contend for the affirmative, observe, that we approve examples of generosity, gratitude, feity, &c. and condemn the contrary, instantly, without deliberation, without having any interest of our own concerned in them, oft-times without being conscious of, or able to give any reason for, our approbation: that this approbation is uniform and universal, the same sorts of conduct being approved and disapproved in all ages and countries of the world; circumstances, say they, which strongly indicate the operation of an instinct or moral sense. On the other hand, answers have been given to most of these arguments, by the patrons of the opposite system: and,

interest of our own to induce us to it, may be accounted for without the assistance of a moral sense; thus:

"Having experienced, in some instances, a particular conduct to be beneficial to ourselves, or observed that it would be so, a sentiment of approbation rises up in our minds; which sentiment afterwards accompanies the idea or mention of the same conduct, although the private advantage which first excited it no longer exist."

And this continuance of the passion, after the reason of it has ceased, is nothing more, say they, than what happens in other cases; especially in the love of money, which is in no person so eager, as it is oftentimes found to be in a rich old miser, without family to provide for, or friend to oblige by it, and to whom, consequently, it is no longer (and he may be sensible of it too) of any real use or value; yet is this man as much overjoyed with gain, and mortified by losses, as he was the first day he opened his shop, and when his very subsistence depended upon his success in it.

By these means the custom of approving certain actions commenced: and when once such a custom hath got footing in the world, it is no difficult thing to explain how it is transmitted and continued; for then the greatest part of those who approve of virtue, approve of it from authority, by imitation, and from a habit of approving such and such actions, inculcated in early youth, and receiving, as men grow up, continual accessions of strength and vigour, from censure and encouragement, from the books they read, the conversations they hear, the current application of epithets, the general turn of language, and the various other causes by which it universally comes to pass, that a society of men, touched in the feeblest degree with the same passion, soon communicate to one another a great degree of it. This is the case with most of us at present; and is the cause also, that the process of association, described in the last paragraph but one, is little now either per

First, as to the uniformity above alleged, they controvert the fact. They remark, from authentic accounts of historians and travellers, that there is scarcely a single vice which, in some age or country of the world, has not been countenanced by public opinion: that in one country, it is esteemed an office of piety in children to sustain their aged parents; in another to dispatch them out of the way: that suicide, in one age of the world, has been heroism, is in another felony: that theft, which is punished by most laws, by the laws of Sparta was not unfrequently rewarded: that the promiscuous commerce of the sexes, although condemned by the regulations and censure of all civilized nations, is practised by the savages of the tropical regions without reserve, compunction, or disgrace that crimes, of which it is no longer permitted us even to speak, have had their advocates amongst the sages of very renowned times: Lat, if an inhabitant of the polished nations of Europe be delighted with the appearance, wher-ceived or wanted. ever he meets with it, of happiness, tranquillity, and comfort, a wild American is no less diverted with the writhings and contortions of a victim at the stake: that even amongst ourselves, and in The efficacy of this principle is most observable the present improved state of moral knowledge, in children: indeed, if there be any thing in them, we are far from a perfect consent in our opin- which deserves the name of an instinct, it is their ions or feelings that you shall hear duelling propensity to imitation. Now there is nothing alternately reprobated and applauded, according which children imitate or apply more readily than to the sex, age or station, of the person you con-expressions of affection and aversion, of approbaverse with: that the forgiveness of injuries and tion, hatred, resentment, and the like; and when insults is accounted by one sort of people magna- these passions and expressions are once connected, nimity, by another meanness: that in the above which they soon will be by the same association instances, and perhaps in most others, moral ap- which unites words with their ideas, the passion probation follows the fashions and institutions of will follow the expression, and attach upon the the country we live in; which fashions also, and object to which the child has been accustomed to institutions themselves, have grown out of the apply the epithet. In a word, when almost every exigences, the climate, situation, or local circum-thing else is learned by imitation, can we wonder stances of the country; or have been set up by the authority of an arbitrary chieftain, or the unaccountable caprice of the multitude: all which, they observe, looks very little like the steady hand and indelible characters of Nature. But,

Secondly, because, after these exceptions and abatements, it cannot be denied but that some sorts of actions command and receive the esteem of mankind more than others; and that the approbation of them is general though not universal: as to this they say, that the general approbation

Amongst the causes assigned for the continuance and diffusion of the same moral sentiments amongst mankind, we have mentioned imitation.

"From instances of popular tumults, seditions, factions, panics, and of all passions which are shared with a multitude, we may learn the influence of society, in exciting and supporting any emotion; while the most ungovernable disorders are raised, we find, by that means, from the slightest and most frivolous occasions.

He must be more or less than man, who kindles not in the common blaze. What wonder then, that moral sentiments are found of such influence in life, though springing from principles, which may appear, at first sight, somewhat small and delicate?"Hume's Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, Sect. ix. p. 326,

to find the same cause concerned in the generation | ate opposition to them, without a secret remorse of our moral sentiments?

of conscience. But this remorse may be borne Another considerable objection to the system of with: and if the sinner choose to bear with it, for moral instincts is this, that there are no maxims the sake of the pleasure or the profit which he in the science which can well be deemed innate, expects from his wickedness; or finds the pleaas none perhaps can be assigned, which are abso- sure of sin to exceed the remorse of conscience, of lutely and universally true; in other words, which which he alone is the judge, and concerning which, do not bend to circumstances. Veracity, which when he feels them both together, he can hardly seems, if any be, a natural duty, is excused in be mistaken, the moral-instinct man, so far as many cases towards an enemy, a thief, or a mad- I can understand, has nothing more to offer. man. The obligation of promises, which is a first For if he allege that these instincts are so many principle in morality, depends upon the circum-indications of the will of God, and consequently stances under which they were made; they may presages of what we are to look for hereafter; have been unlawful, or become so since, or incon-this, I answer, is to resort to a rule and a motive sistent with former promises, or erroneous, or extorted; under all which cases, instances may be suggested, where the obligation to perform the promise would be very dubious; and so of most other general rules, when they come to be actually applied.

An argument has been also proposed on the same side of the question, of this kind. Together with the instinct, there must have been implanted, it is said, a clear and precise idea of the object upon which it was to attach. The instinct and the idea of the object are inseparable even in imagination, and as necessarily accompany each other as any correlative ideas whatever: that is, in plainer terms, if we be prompted by nature to the approbation of particular actions, we must have received also from nature a distinct conception of the action we are thus prompted to approve; which we certainly have not received.

But as this argument bears alike against all instincts, and against their existence in brutes as well as in men, it will hardly, I suppose, produce conviction, though it may be difficult to find an answer to it.

Upon the whole, it seems to me, either that there exist no such instincts as compose what is called the moral sense, or that they are not now to be distinguished from prejudices and habits; on which account they cannot be depended upon in moral reasoning: I mean that it is not a safe way of arguing, to assume certain principles as so many dictates, impulses, and instincts of nature, and then to draw conclusions from these principles, as to the rectitude or wrongness of actions, independent of the tendency of such actions, or of any other consideration whatever.

ulterior to the instincts themselves, and at which rule and motive we shall by-and-by arrive by a surer road:-I say surer, so long as there remains a controversy whether there be any instinctive maxims at all; or any difficulty in ascertaining what maxims are instinctive.

This celebrated question therefore becomes in our system a question of pure curiosity; and as such, we dismiss it to the determination of those who are more inquisitive, than we are concerned to be, about the natural history and constitution of the human species.

CHAPTER VI.

Human Happiness.

THE word happy is a relative term; that is, when we call a man happy, we mean that he is happier than some others, with whom we compare him; than the generality of others; or than he himself was in some other situation: thus, speaking of one who has just compassed the object of a long pursuit,-"Now," we say, "he is happy;" and in a like comparative sense, compared, that is, with the general lot of mankind, we call a man happy who possesses health and competency.

In strictness, any condition may be denominated happy, in which the amount or aggregate of pleasure exceeds that of pain; and the degree of happiness depends upon the quantity of this excess.

And the greatest quantity of it ordinarily attainable in human life, is what we mean by hapAristotle lays down, as a fundamental and self-piness, when we inquire or pronounce what evident maxim, that nature intended barbarians to human happiness consists in.* be slaves; and proceeds to deduce from this maxim a train of conclusions, calculated to justify the policy which then prevailed. And I question whether the same maxim be not still self-evident to the company of merchants trading to the coast of Africa.

If any positive signification, distinct from what we mean by pleasure, can be affixed to the term "happiness," I should take it to denote a certain state of the nervous system in that part of the human frame in which we feel joy and grief, passions and affections.-Whether this part be the heart, which the turn of most languages would lead us to believe, or the diaphragın, as Buffon, or the upper orifice of the stomach, as Van Helmont thought; or rather be a kind of fine net-work,

Nothing is so soon made, as a maxim; and it appears from the example of Aristotle, that authority and convenience, education, prejudice, and lining the whole region of the præcordia, as others have general practice, have no small share in the mak-imagined; it is possible, not only that each painful sensation may violently shake and disturb the fibres ing of them; and that the laws of custom are at the time, but that a series of such may at length so very apt to be mistaken for the order of nature. derange the very texture of the system, as to produce a For which reason, I suspect, that a system of perpetual irritation, which will show itself by fretfulmorality, built upon instincts, will only find out ness, impatience, and restlessness. It is possible also, on the other hand, that a succession of pleasurable senreasons and excuses for opinions and practices sations may have such an effect upon this subtile orgaalready established,-will seldom correct or reform nization, as to cause the fibres to relax, and return into either. their place and order, and thereby to recover, or, if not lost, to preserve, that harmonious conformation which gives to the mind its sense of complacency and satis faction. This state may be denominated happiness and is so far distinguishable from pleasure, that it does

But further, suppose we admit the existence of these instincts; what, it may be asked, is their authority? No man, you say, can act in deliber

In which inquiry I will omit much usual declamation on the dignity and capacity of our nature; the superiority of the soul to the body, of the rational to the animal part of our constitution; upon the worthiness, refinement, and delicacy, of some satisfactions, or the meanness, grossness, and sensuality, of others; because I hold that pleasures differ in nothing, but in continuance and intensity: from a just computation of which, confirmed by what we observe of the apparent cheerfulness, tranquillity, and contentment, of men of different tastes, tempers, stations, and pursuits, every question concerning human happiness must receive its decision.

It will be our business to show, if we can,
1. What Human Happiness does not consist in:
II. What it does consist in.

FIRST, then, Happiness does not consist in the pleasures of sense, in whatever profusion or variety they be enjoyed. By the pleasures of sense, I mean, as well as the animal gratifications of eating, drinking, and that by which the species is continued, as the more refined pleasures of music, painting, architecture, gardening, splendid shows, theatric exhibitions; and the pleasures, lastly, of active sports, as of hunting, shooting, fishing, &c. For,

1st, These pleasures continue but a little while at a time. This is true of them all, especially of the grosser sort of them. Laying aside the preparation and the expectation, and computing strictly the actual sensation, we shall be surprised to find how inconsiderable a portion of our time they occupy, how few hours in the four-and-twenty they are able to fill up.

Adly, These pleasures, by repetition, lose their relish. It is a property of the machine, for which we know no remedy, that the organs, by which we perceive pleasure, are blunted and benumbed by being frequently exercised in the same way. There is hardly any one who has not found the difference between a gratification, when new, and when familiar; or any pleasure which does not become indifferent as it grows habitual.

3dly, The eagerness for high and intense delights takes away the relish from all others; and as such delights fall rarely in our way, the greater part of our time becomes, from this cause, empty and uneasy.

There is hardly any delusion by which men are greater sufferers in their happiness, than by their expecting too much from what is called pleasure; that is, from those intense delights, which vulgarly engross the name of pleasure. The very expectation spoils them. When they do come, we are often engaged in taking pains to persuade our selves how much we are pleased, rather than enjoying any pleasure which springs naturally out of the object. And whenever we depend upon being vastly delighted, we always go home secretly grieved at missing our aim. Likewise, as has been observed just now, when this humour of being prodigiously delighted has once taken hold

not refer to any particular object of enjoyment, or con senses, but is rather the secondary effect which such cbjects and gratifications produce upon the nervous system, or the state in which they leave it. These conjectures belong not, however, to our province. The comparative sense, in which we have explained the ter Happiness, is more popular, and is sufficient for the purpose of the present chapter.

sist, like pleasure, in gratification of one or more of the

of the imagination, it hinders us from providing for, or acquiescing in, those gently soothing engagements, the due variety and succession of which are the only things that supply a vein or continued stream of happiness.

What I have been able to observe of that part of mankind, whose professed pursuit is pleasure, and who are withheld in the pursuit by no restraints of fortune, or scruples of conscience, corresponds sufficiently with this account. I have commonly remarked in such men, a restless and inextinguishable passion for variety; a great part of their time to be vacant, and so much of it irksome; and that, with whatever eagerness and expectation they set out, they become, by degrees, fastidious in their choice of pleasure, languid in the enjoyment, yet miserable under the want of it.

The truth seems to be, that there is a limit at which these pleasures soon arrive, and from which they ever afterwards decline. They are by necessity of short duration, as the organs cannot hold on their emotions beyond a certain length of time; and if you endeavour to compensate for this imperfection in their nature by the frequency with which you repeat them, you suffer more than you gain, by the fatigue of the faculties, and the dimi nution of sensibility.

We have said nothing in this account, of the loss of opportunities, or the decay of faculties, which, whenever they happen, leave the voluptu ary destitute and desperate; teased by desires that can never be gratified, and the memory of pleasures which must return no more.

It will also be allowed by those who have experienced it, and perhaps by those alone, that pleasure which is purchased by the encumbrance of our fortune, is purchased too dear; the pleasure never compensating for the perpetual irritation of embarrassed circumstances.

These pleasures, after all, have their value: and as the young are always too eager in their pursuit of them, the old are sometimes too remiss, that is, too studious of their ease, to be at the pains for them which they really deserve.

SECONDLY, Neither does happiness consist in an exemption from pain, labour, care, business, suspense, molestation, and "those evils which are without;" such a state being usually attended, not with ease, but with depression of spirits, a tastelessness in all our ideas, imaginary anxieties, and the whole train of hypochondriacal affections.

For which reason, the expectations of those, who retire from their shops and counting-houses, to enjoy the remainder of their days in leisure and tranquillity, are seldom answered by the effect; much less of such, as, in a fit of chagrin, shut themselves up in cloisters and hermitages, or quit the world, and their stations in it, for solitude and repose.

Where there exists a known external cause of uneasiness, the cause may be removed, and the uneasiness will cease. But those imaginary distresses which men feel for want of real ones (and real) as they depend upon no single or assignable which are equally tormenting, and so far equally subject of uneasiness, admit oftentimes of no application of relief.

Hence, a moderate pain, upon which the attention may fasten and spend itself, is to many a refreshment; as a fit of the gout will sometimes Scure the spleen. And the same of any less violent