of government is the medicine of the mind, and the most useful part of it is that which prevents crimes and bad habits, and trains men to virtue and good habits, by proper education and discipline. The end of government is to make the society happy, which can only be done by making it good and virtuous. That men in general will be good or bad members of society, according to the education and discipline by which they have been trained, experience may convince us. The present age has made great advances in the art of training men to military duty. It will not be said, that those who enter into that service are more tractable than their fellow-subjects of other professions. And I know not why it should be thought impossible to train men to equal perfection in the other duties of good citizens. What an immense difference is there, for the purpose of war, between an army properly trained, and a militia hastily drawn out of the multitude? What should hinder us from thinking, that, for every purpose of civil government, there may be a like difference between a civil society properly trained to virtue, good habits, and right sentiments, and those civil societies which we now behold?—But I fear I shall be thought to digress from my subject into Utopian speculation. To make an end of what I have to say upon the animal principles of action, we may take a complex view of their effect in life, by supposing a being actuated by principles of no higher order, to have no conscience or sense of duty, only let us allow him that superiority of understanding, and that power of self-government, which man actually has. Let us speculate a little upon this imaginary being, and consider what conduct and tenor of action might be expected from him. It is evident he would be a very different animal from a brute, and perhaps not very different, in appearance, from what a great part of mankind is. He would be capable of considering the distant consequences of his actions, and of restraining or indulging his appetites, desires, and affections, from the consideration of distant good or evil. He would be capable of choosing some main end of his life, and planning such a rule of conduct as appeared most subservient to it. Of this we have reason to think no brute is capable. We can perhaps conceive such a balance of the animal principles of action, as, with very little self-government, might make a man to be a good member of society, a good companion, and to have many amiable qualities. The balance of our animal principles, I think, constitutes what we call a man's natural temper; which may be good or bad, without regard to his virtue. A man in whom the benevolent affections, the desire of esteem and good humour, are naturally prevalent, who is of a calm and dispassionate nature, who has the good fortune to live with good men, and associate with good companions, may behave properly with little effort. His natural temper leads him, in most cases, to do what virtue requires. And if he happens not to be exposed to those trying situations, in which virtue crosses the natural bent of his temper, he has no great temptation to act amiss. But perhaps a happy natural temper, joined with such a happy situation, is more ideal than real, though no doubt some men make nearer approaches to it than others. The temper and the situation of men is commonly such, that the animal principles alone, without self-government, would never produce any regular and consistent train of conduct. One principle crosses another. Without self-government, that which is strongest at the time will prevail. And that which is weakest at one time may, from passion, from a change of disposition or of fortune, become strongest at another time. Every natural appetite, desire, and affection, has its own present gratification only in view. A man, therefore, who has no other leader than these, would be like a ship in the ocean without hands, which cannot be said to be destined to any port. He would have no character at all, but be benevolent or spiteful, pleasant or morose, honest or dishonest, as the present wind of passion or tide of humour moved him. Every man who pursues an end, be it good or bad, must be active when he is disposed to be indolent: he must rein every passion and appetite, that would lead him out of his road. Mortification and self-denial are found not in the paths of virtue only; they are common to every road that leads to an end, be it ambition, or avarice, or even pleasure itself. Every man who maintains an uniform and consistent character, must sweat and toil, and often struggle with his present inclination. Yet those who steadily pursue some end in life, though they must often restrain their strongest desires, and practise much self-denial, have, upon the whole, more enjoyment than those who have no end at all, but to gratify the present prevailing inclination. A dog that is made for the chase, cannot enjoy the happiness of a dog without that exercise. Keep him within doors, feed him with the most delicious fare, give him all the pleasures his nature is capable of, he soon becomes a dull, torpid, unhappy animal. No enjoyment can supply the want of that employment which nature has made his chief good. Let him hunt, and neither pain nor hunger, nor fatigue, seem to be evils. Deprived of this exercise, he can relish nothing. Life itself becomes burdensome. It is no disparagement to the human kind to say, that man, as well as the dog, is made for hunting, and cannot be happy but in some vigorous pursuit. He has indeed nobler game to pursue than the dog, but he must have some pursuit, otherwise life stagnates, all the faculties are benumbed, the spirits flag, and his existence becomes an unsupportable burden. Even the mere fox-hunter, who has no higher pursuit than his dogs, has more enjoyment than he who has no pursuit at all. He has an end in view, and this invigorates his spirits, makes him despise pleasure, and bear cold, hunger, and fatigue, as if they were no evils. Manet sub Jove frigido Venator, teneræ conjugis immemor; ESSAY III. PART III. OF THE RATIONAL PRINCIPLES OF ACTION. CHAPTER I. THERE ARE RATIONAL PRINCIPLES OF ACTION IN MAN. MECHANICAL principles of action produce their effect without any will or intention on our part. We may, by a voluntary effort, hinder the effect; but if it be not hindered by will and effort, it is produced without them. Animal principles of action require intention and will in their operation, but not judgment. They are, by ancient moralists, very properly called cæcæ cupidines, blind desires. Having treated of these two classes, I proceed to the third, the rational principles of action in man; which have that name, because they can have no existence in beings not endowed with reason, and, in all their exertions, require, not only intention and will, but judgment or reason. That talent which we call reason, by which men that are adult and of a sound mind are distinguished from brutes, idiots, and infants, has, in all ages, among the learned and unlearned, been conceived to have two offices, to regulate our belief, and to regulate our actions and conduct. Whatever we believe, we think agreeable to reason, and, on that account, yield our assent to it. Whatever we disbelieve, we think contrary to reason, and, on that account, dissent from it. Reason therefore is allowed to be the principle by which our belief and opinions ought to be regulated. But reason has been no less universally conceived to be a principle, by which our actions ought to be regulated. To act reasonably, is a phrase no less common in all languages, than to judge reasonably. We immediately approve of a man's conduct, when it appears that he had good reason for what he did. And every action we disapprove, we think unreasonable or contrary to reason. A way of speaking so universal among men, common to the learned and the unlearned in all nations, and in all languages, must have a meaning. To suppose it to be words without meaning, is to treat, with undue contempt, the common sense of mankind. Supposing this phrase to have a meaning, we may consider in what way reason may serve to regulate human conduct, so that some actions of men are to be denominated reasonable, and others unreasonable. I take it for granted, that there can be no exercise of reason without judgment, nor, on the other hand, any judgment of things abstract and general without some degree of reason. If, therefore, there be any principles of action in the human constitution, which, in their nature, necessarily imply such judgment, they are the prin ciples which we may call rational, to distinguish them from animal prin ciples, which imply desire and will, but not judgment. Every deliberate human action must be done either as the means, or as an end; as the means to some end, to which it is subservient, or as an end, for its own sake, and without regard to any thing beyond it. That it is a part of the office of reason to determine what are the proper means to any end which we desire, no man ever denied. But some philosophers, particularly Mr. Hume, think that it is no part of the office of reason to determine the ends we ought to pursue, or the preference due to one end above another. This, he thinks, is not the office of reason, but of taste or feeling. If this be so, reason cannot, with any propriety, be called a principle of action. Its office can only be to minister to the principles of action, by discovering the means of their gratification. Accordingly Mr. Hume maintains, that reason is no principle of action; but that it is, and ought to be, the servant of the passions. I shall endeavour to show, that, among the various ends of human actions, there are some of which, without reason, we could not even form a conception; and that, as soon as they are conceived, a regard to them is, by our constitution, not only a principle of action, but a leading and governing principle, to which all our animal principles are subordinate, and to which they ought to be subject. These I shall call rational principles; because they can exist only in beings endowed with reason, and because, to act from these principles, is what has always been meant by acting according to reason. The ends of human actions I have in view are two, to wit, What is good for us upon the whole, and what appears to be our duty. They are very strictly connected, lead to the same course of conduct, and co-operate with each other; and, on that account, have commonly been comprehended under one name, that of reason. But as they may be disjoined, and are really distinct principles of action, I shall consider them separately. CHAPTER II. OF REGARD TO OUR GOOD ON THE WHOLE. It will not be denied that man, when he comes to years of understanding, is led, by his rational nature, to form the conception of what is good for him upon the whole. How early in life this general notion of good enters into the mind, I cannot pretend to determine. It is one of the most general and abstract notions we form. Whatever makes a man more happy, or more perfect, is good, and is an object of desire as soon as we are capable of forming the conception of it. The contrary is ill, and is an object of aversion. In the first part of life we have many enjoyments of various kinds; but very similar to those of brute animals. They consist in the exercise of our senses and powers of motion, the gratification of our appetites, and the exertions of our kind affections. These are chequered with many evils of pain, and fear, and disappointment, and sympathy with the suffering of others. But the goods and evils of this period of life are of short duration, and soon forgot. The mind being regardless of the past, and unconcerned about the future, we have then no other measure of good but the present desire; no other measure of evil but the present aversion. Every animal desire has some particular and present object, and looks not beyond that object to its consequences, or to the connexions it may have with other things. The present object, which is most attractive, or excites the strongest desire, determines the choice, whatever be its consequences. The present evil that presses most is avoided, though it should be the road to a greater good to come, or the only way to escape a greater evil. This is the way in which brutes act, and the way in which men must act, till they come to the use of reason. As we grow up to understanding, we extend our view both forward and backward. We reflect upon what is past, and, by the lamp of experience, discern what will probably happen in time to come. We find that many things which we eagerly desired were too dearly purchased, and that things grievous for the present, like nauseous medicines, may be salutary in the issue. We learn to observe the connexions of things, and the consequences of our actions; and, taking an extended view of our existence, past, present, and future, we correct our first notions of good and ill, and form the conception of what is good or ill upon the whole; which must be estimated, not from the present feeling, or from the present animal desire or aversion, but from a due consideration of its consequences, certain or probable, during the whole of our existence. That which, taken with all its discoverable connexions and consequences, brings more good than ill, I call good upon the whole. That brute animals have any conception of this good, I see no reason to believe. And it is evident, that man cannot have the conception of it, till reason be so far advanced, that he can seriously reflect upon the past, and take a prospect of the future part of his existence. It appears, therefore, that the very conception of what is good or ill for us upon the whole, is the offspring of reason, and can be only in beings endowed with reason. And if this conception give rise to any principle of action in man, which he had not before, that principle may very properly be called a rational principle of action. I pretend not in this to say any thing that is new, but what reason suggested to those who first turned their attention to the philosophy of morals. I beg leave to quote one passage from Cicero, in his first book of Offices ; wherein, with his usual elegance, he expresses the substance of what I have said. And there is good reason to think that Cicero borrowed it from Panactius, a Greek philosopher, whose books of Offices are lost. "Sed inter hominem et belluam hoc maxime interest, quod hæc tantum quantum sensu movetur, ad id solum quod adest, quodque præsens est se accommodat, paululum admodum sentiens præteritum aut futurum : Homo autem quoniam rationis est particeps, per quam consequentia cernit, causas rerum videt, earumque prægressus et quasi antecessiones non ignorat; similitudines comparat, et rebus præsentibus adjungit atque annectit futuras; facile totius vitæ cursum videt, ad eamque degendam preparat res necessarias." I observe in the next place, That as soon as we have the conception of what is good or ill for us upon the whole, we are led, by our constitution, to seek the good and avoid the ill: and this becomes not only a principle of action, but a leading or governing principle, to which all our animal principles ought to be subordinate. I am very apt to think with Dr. Price, that, in intelligent beings, the desire of what is good, and aversion to what is ill, is necessarily connected |