born to so much that they want nothing more, or who have used up their satisfactions too soon, and drained the sources of them.

It is this intolerable vacuity of mind, which carries the rich and great to the horse-course and the gaming-table; and often engages them in contests and pursuits, of which the success bears Do proportion to the solicitude and expense with which it is sought. An election for a disputed borough shall cost the parties twenty or thirty thousand pounds each, to say nothing of the anxiety, humiliation, and fatigue, of the canvass; when, a seat in the house of commons, of exactly the same value, may be had for a tenth part of the money, and with no trouble. I do not mention this, to blame the rich and great (perhaps they cannot do better,) but in confirmation of what I have advanced.

or business before us, we are commonly happy,
whatever the object or business be; when the
mind is absent, and the thoughts are wandering
to something else than what is passing in the
place in which we are, we are often miserable.
III. Happiness depends upon the prudent con-
stitution of the habits.

The art in which the secret of human happiness in a great measure consists, is to set the habits in such a manner, that every change may be a change for the better. The habits themselves are much the same; for, whatever is made habitual, becomes smooth, and easy, and nearly indifferent. The return to an old habit is likewise easy, whatever the habit be. Therefore the advantage is with those habits which allow of an indulgence in the deviation from them. The luxurious receive no greater pleasures from their dainties, than the Hope, which thus appears to be of so much peasant does from his bread and cheese: but the importance to our happiness, is of two kinds;- peasant, whenever he goes abroad, finds a feast; where there is something to be done towards at-whereas the epicure must be well entertained, to taining the object of our hope, and where there is escape disgust. Those who spend every day at nothing to be done. The first alone is of any cards, and those who go every day to plough, value; the latter being apt to corrupt into impa-pass their time much alike: intent upon what tience, having no power but to sit still and wait, which soon grows tiresome.

The doctrine delivered under this head, may be readily admitted; but how to provide ourselves with a succession of pleasurable engagements, is the difficulty. This requires two things: judgment in the choice of ends adapted to our opportunities; and a command of imagination, so as to be able, when the judgment has made choice of an end, to transfer a pleasure to the means: after which, the end may be forgotten as soon as we will.

they are about, wanting nothing, regretting nothing, they are both for the time in a state of ease: but then, whatever suspends the occupation of the card-player, distresses him; whereas to the labourer, every interruption is a refreshment: and this appears in the different effects that Sunday produces upon the two, which proves a day of recreation to the one, but a lamentable burthen to the other. The man who has learned to live alone, feels his spirits enlivened whenever he enters into company, and takes his leave without regret; another, who has long been accustomed to a crowd, or continual successsion of company, experiences in company no elevation of spirits, nor any greater satisfaction, than what the man of a retired life finds in his chimney-corner. So A man who is in earnest in his endeavours far their conditions are equal; but let a change of after the happiness of a future state, has, in this place, fortune, or situation, separate the companion respect, an advantage over all the world: for, he from his circle, his visitors, his club, common-room, has constantly before his eyes an object of supreme or coffee-house; and the difference and advantage importance, productive of perpetual engagement in the choice and constitution of the two habits and activity, and of which the pursuit (which can will show itself. Solitude comes to the one, clothbe said of no pursuit besides) lasts him to his life's ed with melancholy; to the other, it brings liberty end. Yet even he must have many ends, besides and quiet. You will see the one fretful and restthe far end: but then they will conduct to that, less, at a loss how to dispose of his time, till the be subordinate, and in some way or other capable hour come round when he may forget himself in of being referred to that, and derive their satisfac-bed; the other easy and satisfied, taking up his tion, or an addition of satisfaction, from that.

Hence those pleasures are most valuable, not which are most exquisite in the fruition, but which are most productive of engagement and activity in the pursuit.

book or his pipe, as soon as he finds himself alone; realy to admit any little amusement that casts up, or to turn his hands and attention to the first business that presents itself; or content, without either, to sit still, and let his train of thought glide indolently through his brain, without much use, perhaps, or pleasure, but without hankering after any thing better, and without irritation. A reader, who has inured himself to books of science and argumentation, if a novel, a well-written pamphlet, an article of news, a narrative of a curious voyage, or a journal of a traveller, fall in his way, sits down to the repast with relish; enjoys his entertainment while it lasts, and can return, when it is over, to his graver reading, without distaste. Another, with whom nothing will go down but works of humour and pleasantry, or whose curiosity must be interested by perpetual novelty, will consume a bookseller's window in half a forencon; during which time he is rather in search of diverWhilst our minds are taken up with the objects | sion than diverted; and as books to his taste are

Engagement is every thing: the more significant, however, our engagements are, the better: such as the planning of laws, institutions, manufactures, charities, improvements, public works; and the endeavouring, by our interest, address, solicitations, and activity, to carry them into effect; or, upon a smaller scale, the procuring of a maintenance and fortune for our families by a course of industry and application to our callings, which forms and gives motion to the common occupations of life; training up a child; prosecuting a scheme for his future establishment; making ourselves masters of a language or a science; improving or managing an estate; labouring after a piece of preferment; and, lastly, any engagement, which is innocent, is better than none; as the writing of a book, the building of a house, the laying out of a garden, the digging of a fish-pond,- -even the raising of a cucumber or a tulip.

E

few, and short, and rapidly read over, the stock is | Benevolence proposes good ends; prudence sugsoon exhausted, when he is left without resource from his principal supply of harmless amuse

ment.

So far as circumstances of fortune conduce to happiness, it is not the income which any man possesses, but the increase of income, that affords the pleasure. Two persons, of whom one begins with a hundred, and advances his income to a thousand pounds a year, and the other sets off with a thousand and dwindles down to a hundred, may, in the course of their time, have the receipt and spending of the same sum of money: yet their satisfaction, so far as fortune is concerned in it, will be very different; the series and sum total of their incomes being the same, it makes a wide difference at which end they begin.

IV. Happiness consists in health.

By health I understand, as well freedom from bodily distempers, as that tranquillity, firmness, and alacrity of mind, which we call good spirits; and which may properly enough be included in our notion of health, as depending commonly upon the same causes, and yielding to the same management, as our bodily constitution.

gests the best means of attaining them; fortitude enables us to encounter the difficulties, dangers, and discouragements, which stand in our way in the pursuit of these ends; temperance repels and overcomes the passions that obstruct it. Benerolence, for instance, prompts us to undertake the cause of an oppressed orphan; prudence suggests the best means of going about it; fortitude enables us to confront the danger, and bear up against the loss, disgrace, or repulse, that may attend our undertaking; and temperance keeps under the love of money, of ease, or amusement, which might divert us from it.

Virtue is distinguished by others into two branches only, prudence and benevolence: prudence, attention to our own interest; benevolence, to that of our fellow-creatures: both directed to the same end, the increase of happiness in nature; and taking equal concern in the future as in the present.

The four CARDINAL virtues are, prudence, fortitude, temperance and justice.

But the division of virtue, to which we are in modern times most accustomed, is into duties;— Towards God; as piety, reverence, resignation, gratitude, &c.

Towards other men (or relative duties;) as justice, charity, fidelity, loyalty, &c.

Health, in this sense, is the one thing needful. Therefore no pains, expense, self-denial, or restraint, to which we subject ourselves for the sake of health, is too much. Whether it require us to relinquish lucrative situations, to abstain from Towards ourselves; as chastity, sobriety, temfavourite indulgences, to control intemperate pas-perance, preservation of life, care of health, &c. sions, or undergo tedious regimens; whatever More of these distinctions have been proposed, difficulties it lays us under, a man, who pursues which it is not worth while to set down." his happiness rationally and resolutely, will be content to submit.

When we are in perfect health and spirits, we feel in ourselves a happiness independent of any particular outward gratification whatever, and of which we can give no account. This is an enjoyment which the Deity has annexed to life; and it probably constitutes, in a great measure, the happiness of infants and brutes, especially of the lower and sedentary orders of animals, as of oysters, periwinkles, and the like; for which I have sometimes been at a loss to find out amusement.

The above account of human happiness will justify the two following conclusions, which, although found in most books of morality, have seldom, I think, been supported by any sufficient

reasons:

FIRST, That happiness is pretty equally distributed amongst the different orders of civil society:

SECONDLY, That vice has no advantage over virtue, even with respect to this world's happi

ness.

CHAPTER VII.
Virtue.

VIRTUE is "the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness."

According to which definition, “the good of mankind" is the subject; the "will of God," the rule; and "everlasting happiness," the motive, of human virtue.

Virtue has been divided by some moralists into benevolence, prudence, fortitude, and temperance.

I shall proceed to state a few observations, which relate to the general regulation of human conduct; unconnected indeed with each other, but very worthy of attention; and which fall as properly under the title of this chapter as of any future one.

I. Mankind act more from habit than reflec

tion.

It is on few only and great occasions that men deliberate at all; on fewer still, that they institute any thing like a regular inquiry into the moral rectitude or depravity of what they are about to do; or wait for the result of it. We are for the most part determined at once; and by an impulse, which is the effect and energy of pre-established habit. And this constitution seems well adapted to the exigences of human life, and to the imbecility of our moral principle. In the current occasions and rapid opportunities of life, there is oftentimes little leisure for reflection; and were there more, a man, who has to reason about his duty, when the temptation to transgress it is upon him, is almost sure to reason himself into an

error.

If we are in so great a degree passive under our habits; Where, it is asked, is the exercise of virtue, the guilt of vice, or any use of moral and religious knowledge? I answer, in the forming and contracting of these habits.

And hence results a rule of life of considerable importance, viz. that many things are to be done and abstained from, solely for the sake of habit. We will explain ourselves by an example or two: -A beggar, with the appearance of extreme distress, asks our charity. If we come to argue the matter, whether the distress be real, whether it be

advertency; of a prompt obedience to the judgment occurring, or of yielding to the first impulse of passion; of extending our views to the future, or of resting upon the present; of apprehending, methodising, reasoning; of indolence and dilatoriness; of vanity, self-conceit, melancholy, partiality; of fretfulness, suspicion, captiousness; censoriousness; of pride, ambition, covetousness; of overreaching, intriguing, projecting; in a word, there is not a quality or function, either of body or mind, which does not feel the influence of this great law of animated nature.

not brought upon himself, whether it be of public
advantage to admit such application, whether it be
not to encourage idleness and vagrancy, whether
it may not invite impostors to our doors, whether
the money can be well spared, or might not be
better applied; when these considerations are put
together, it may appear very doubtful, whether we
ought or ought not to give any thing. But when
we reflect, that the misery before our eyes excites
our pity, whether we will or not; that it is of the
utmost consequence to us to cultivate this tender-
ness of mind; that it is a quality, cherished by
indulgence, and soon stifled by opposition; when
this, I say, is considered, a wise man will do that
for his own sake, which he would have hesitated|tion.
to do for the petitioner's; he will give way to his
compassion, rather than offer violence to a habit
of so much general use.

II. The Christian religion hath not ascertained the precise quantity of virtue necessary to salva

the almost infinite diversity which subsists in the capacities and opportunities of different men.

*

This has been made an objection to Christianity; but without reason. For as all revelation, however imparted originally, must be transmitted by A man of confirmed good habits, will act in the ordinary vehicle of language, it behoves those the same manner without any consideration at all. who make the objection, to show that any form of This may serve for one instance; another is the words could be devised, that might express this following-A man has been brought up from his quantity; or that it is possible to constitute a infancy with a dread of lying. An occasion pre-standard of moral attainments, accommodated to sents itself where, at the expense of a little veracity, he may divert his company, set off his own wit with advantage, attract the notice and engage the partiality of all about him. This is not a small temptation. And when he looks at the other side of the question, he sees no mischief that can ensue from this liberty, no slander of any man's reputation, no prejudice likely to arise to any man's interest. Were there nothing further to be considered, it would be difficult to show why a man under such circumstances might not indulge his humour. But when he reflects that his scruples about lying have hitherto preserved him free from this vice; that occasions like the present will return, where the inducement may be equally strong, but the indulgence much less innocent; that his scruples will wear away by a few transgressions, and leave him subject to one of the meanest and most pernicious of all bad habits,-a habit of lying, whenever it will serve his turn: when all this, I say, is considered, a wise man will forego the present, or a much greater pleasure, rather than lay the foundation of a character so vicious and contemptible.

It seems most agreeable to our conceptions of justice, and is consonant enough to the language of scripture, to suppose, that there are prepared for us rewards and punishments, of all possible degrees, from the most exalted happiness down to extreme misery; so that "our labour is never in vain;" whatever advancement we make in virtue, we procure a proportionable accession of future happiness; as, on the other hand, every accumulation of vice is the "treasuring up so much wrath against the day of wrath." It has been said, that it can never be a just economy of Providence, to admit one part of mankind into heaven, and condemn the other to hell; since there must be very little to choose, between the worst man who is received into heaven, and the best who is excluded. And how know we, it might be answered, but that there may be as little to choose in the conditions?

Without entering into a detail of Scripture morality, which would anticipate our subject, the following general positions may be advanced, I think, with safety.

There needs no other proof of this, than the consideration, that a brute would be as proper an object of reward as such a man, and that, if the case were so, the penal sanctions of religion could

From what has been said, may be explained 1. That a state of happiness is not to be expectalso the nature of habitual virtue. By the defi-ed by those who are conscious of no moral or nition of virtue, placed at the beginning of this religious rule: I mean those who cannot with chapter, it appears, that the good of mankind is truth say, that they have been prompted to one the subject, the will of God the rule, and everlast-action, or withholden from one gratification, by ing happiness the motive and end, of all virtue. any regard to virtue or religion, either immediate Yet, in fact, a man shall perform many an act of or habitual. virtue without having either the good of mankind, the will of God, or everlasting happiness in his thought. How is this to be understood? In the same manner as that a man may be a very good servant, without being conscious, at every turn, of a particular regard to his master's will, or of an express attention to his raaster's interest: indeed, your best old servants are of this sort: but then he must have served for a length of time under the actual direction of these motives, to bring it to this: in which service, his merit and virtue

consist.

"He which soweth sparingly, shall reap also spar ingly; and he which soweth bountifully, shall reap also bountifully" 2 Cor. ix. 6.-" And that servant which did according to his will, shall be beaten with many knew his Lord's will, and prepared not himself, neither stripes; but he that knew not, shall be beaten with few stripes." Luke xii. 47, 48.-" Whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ; verily I say unto you, he shall not lose his reward;" to wit, intimating that there is in reserve a proportionable reward for even the smallest act of virtue. Mark ix. 41.-See also the parable of the pounds, Luke xix. 16, &c.; where he whose pound had gained pound had gained five pounds, was placed over five ten pounds, was placed over ten cities; and he whose

There are habits, not only of drinking, swearing, and lying, and of some other things, which are commonly acknowledged to be habits, and called so: but of every modification of action, speech, and thought. Man is a bundle of habits. There are habits of industry, attention, vigilance, | cities.

have no place. For, whom would you punish, if | peared doubtful to a reasoner upon the subject, you make such a one as this happy or rather whether he may lawfully destroy himself. He Indeed, religion itself, both natural and revealed, can have no doubt, that it is lawful for him to let would cease to have either use or authority. it alone. Here therefore is a case, in which one 2. That a state of happiness is not to be ex- side is doubtful, and the other side safe. pected by those, who reserve to themselves the virtue therefore of our rule, he is bound to pursue habitual practice of any one sin, or neglect of one the safe side, that is, to forbear from offering known duty. violence to himself, whilst a doubt remains upon his mind concerning the lawfulness of suicide.

tended to sins deliberately, habitually, and ob- The question Why am I obliged to keep my

monly meet in their conclusions; that is, they enjoin the same conduct, prescribe the same rules of duty, and, with a few exceptions, deliver upon dubious cases the same determinations.

SECONDLY, it is to be observed, that these answers all leave the matter short; for the inquirer may turn round upon his teacher with a second question, in which he will expect to be satisfied, namely, Why am I obliged to do what is right; to act agreeably to the fitness of things; to conform to reason, nature, or truth; to promote the public good, or to obey the will of God.

The proper method of conducting the inquiry is, FIRST, to examine what we mean, when we say a man is obliged to do any thing; and THEN to show why he is obliged to do the thing which we have proposed as an example, namely, "to keep his word."

CHAPTER II.

What we mean to say when a man is obliged to do a thing.

A MAN is said to be obliged, "when he is urged by a violent motive resulting from the command of another."

FIRST, "The motive must be violent." If a person, who has done me so little service, or has a small place in his disposal, ask me upon some occasion for my vote, I may possibly give it him, from a motive of gratitude or expectation: but I should hardly say that I was obliged to give it him; because the inducement does not rise high enough. Whereas, if a father or a master, any great benefactor, or one on whom my fortune depends, require my vote, I give it him of course: and my answer to all who asked me why I voted so and so, is, that my father or my master obliged me; that I had received so many favours from, or had so great a dependence upon, such a one, that I was obliged to vote as he directed me.

SECONDLY, "It must result from the command of another." Offer a man a gratuity for doing any thing, for seizing, for example, an offender, he is not obliged by your offer to do it; nor would he say he is; though he may be induced, persuaded, prevailed upon, tempted. If a magistrate or the man's immediate superior command it, he considers himself as obliged to comply, though possibly he would lose less by a refusal in this case, than in the former.

I will not undertake to say that the words obligation and obliged are used uniformly in this sense, or always with this distinction: nor is it possible to tie down popular phrases to any constant signification: but wherever the motive is violent enough, and coupled with the idea of command, authority, law, or the will of a superior, there, I take it, we always reckon ourselves to be obliged.

And from this account of obligation, it follows, that we can be obliged to nothing, but what we ourselves are to gain or lose something by; for nothing else can be a "violent motive" to us.As we should not be obliged to obey the laws, or the magistrate, unless rewards or punishments, pleasure, or pain, somehow or other, depended upon our obedience; so neither should we, without the same reason, be obliged to do what is right, to practise virtue, or to obey the commands of God.

CHAPTER III.

The question, 'Why am I obliged to keep my word?' resumed.

LET it be remembered, that to be obliged, is "to be urged by a violent motive, resulting from the command of another."

And then let it be asked, Why am I obliged to keep my word? and the answer will be, Because I am "urged to do so by a violent motive" (namely, the expectation of being after this life rewarded, if I do, or punished for it, if I do not,) "resulting from the command of another" (namely of God.) This solution goes to the bottom of the subject, as no further question can reasonably be asked. Therefore, private happiness is our motive, and the will of God our rule.

When I first turned my thoughts to moral speculations, an air of mystery seemed to hang over the whole subject; which arose, I believe, from hence, -that I supposed, with many authors whom ĺ had read, that to be obliged to do a thing, was and that the obligation to practise virtue, to do very different from being induced only to do it; what is right, just, &c. was quite another thing, and of another kind, than the obligation which a soldier is under to obey his officer, a servant his master; or any of the civil and ordinary obligations of human life. Whereas, from what has been said, it appears that moral obligation is like all other obligations; and that obligation is nothing more than an inducement of sufficient strength, and resulting, in some way, from the command of another.

There is always understood to be a difference between an act of prudence and an act of duty. Thus, if I distrust a man who owed me a sum of money, I should reckon it an act of prudence to get another person bound with him; but I should hardly call it an act of duty. On the other hand, it would be thought a very unusual and loose kind of language, to say, that as I had made such a promise, it was prudent to perform it; or that, as my friend, when he went abroad, placed a box of jewels in my hands, it would be prudent in me to preserve it for him till he returned.

Now, in what, you will ask, does the difference consist? inasmuch, as, according to our account of the matter, both in the one case and the other, in acts of duty as well as acts of prudence, we consider solely what we ourselves shall gain or lose by the act.

The difference, and the only difference, is this; that in the one case, we consider what we shall gain or lose in the present world; in the other case, we consider also what we shall gain or lose in the world to come.

They who would establish a system of morality, independent of a future state, must look out for some different idea of moral obligation; unless they can show that virtue conducts the possessor to certain happiness in this life, or to a much greater share of it than he could attain by a different behaviour.

To us there are two great questions: I. Will there be after this life any distribution of rewards and punishments at all?

II. If there be, what actions will be rewarded, and what will be punished?

The first question comprises the credibility of the Christian Religion, together with the presumptive proofs of a future retribution from the light of