down popular phrases to any conftant fignification: but, wherever the motive is violent enough, and coupled with the idea of command, authority, law, or the will of a fuperior, 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 lofe fomething by; for nothing else can be a "violent motive" to us. As we should not be obliged to obey the laws, or the magiftrate, unless rewards or punishments, pleasure or pain, fome how or other depended upon our obedience; fo neither should we, without the fame reason, be obliged to do what is right, to practise virtue, or to obey the commands of God.

CHA P. III.

THE QUESTION, WHY AM I OBLIGED TO KEEP MY WORD?

LE

RESUMED.

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

am

And then let it be asked, Why am I obliged to keep my word? and the answer will be, because I urged to do fo by a violent motive," (namely, the expectation of being after this life rewarded, if I do, or punished for it, if I do not) "refulting from the command of another" (namely, of God.)

This folution goes to the bottom of the fubject, as no farther 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 fpeculations, an air of mystery feemed to hang over the whole fubject; which arose, I believe, from hence

-that

--that I fuppofed, with many authors whom I had read, that to be obliged to do a thing, was very different from being induced only to do it, and that the obligation to practife virtue, to do what is right, juft, &c. was quite another thing, and of another kind, than the obligation which a foldier is under to obey his officer, a fervant his master, or any of the civil and ordinary obligations of human life. Whereas, from what has been faid it appears, that moral obligation is like all other obligations; and that all obligation is nothing more than an inducement of fufficient ftrength, and refulting in fome 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 diftrufted a man who owed me a fum of • money, I should reckon it an act of prudence to get another perfon bound with him; but I fhould hardly call it an act of duty. On the other hand, it would be thought a very unusual and loose kind of language, to fay, that, as I had made fuch a promife, 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 preferve it for him till he returned.

Now, in what, you will afk, does the difference confift? Inafmuch, as according to our account of the matter, both in the one cafe and the other, in acts of duty as well as acts of prudence, we confi. der foldly what we ourlelves fhall gain or lofe by the act?

The difference, and the only difference, is this; that, in the one cafe we confider what we thall gain or lofe in the prefent world; in the other cafe, we confider alfo what we fhall gain or lofe in the world

to come.

Those who would eftablish a fyftem of morality, independent of a future ftate, muft look out for fome different idea of moral obligation; unless they can fhew that virtue conducts the poffellor to cer

tain

tain happiness in this life, or to a much greater fhare 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 Chriftian religion, together with the prefumptive proofs of a future retribution from the light of nature. The fecond queftion compofes the province of morality. Both queftions are too much for one work. The affirmative therefore of the first, although we confefs that it is the foundation upon which the whole fabric refts, must in this treatise be taken for granted.

CHA P. IV.

A

THE WILL OF COD.

S the will of God is our rule, to inquire what is our duty, or what we are obliged to do, in any inftance, is, in effect, to inquire, what is the will of God in that inftance? which confequently becomes the whole business of morality.

Now there are two methods of coming at the will of God on any point:

I. By his exprefs declarations, when they are to be had; and which must be fought for in Scrip

ture.

II. By what we can difcover of his defigns and difpofition from his works, or, as we usually call it, the light of nature.

And here we may observe the abfurdity of feparating natural and revealed religion from each other. The object of both is the fame to discover the will of God-and, provided we do but difcover it, it matters nothing by what means.

An ambaffador, judging by what he knows of his fovereign's difpofition, and arguing from what he has obferved of his conduct, or is acquainted with of his defigns, may take his mea. fures in many cafes with fafety; and prefume with great probability how his mafter would have him act on moft occafions that arife: but if he has his commiffion and instructions in his pocket, it would be ftrange not to look into them. He will naturally conduct himself by both rules: when his inftructions are clear and pofitive, there is an end of all farther deliberation (unless indeed he fufpect their authenticity): where his inftructions are filent or dubious, he will endeavour to fupply or explain them, by what he has been able to collect from other quarters of his master's general inclination or intentions.

Mr. HUME, in his fourth Appendix to his Principles of Morals, has been pleafed to complain of the modern fcheme of uniting Ethics with the Chriftian Theology. They who find themfelves difpofed to join in this complaint will do well to obferve what Mr. HUME himself has been able to make of morality without this union. And for that purpose, let them read the fecond part of the ninth fection of the above effay; which part contains the practical application of the whole treatise-a treatife, which Mr. HUME declares to be "incomparably the best he ever wrote." When they have

read

read it over, let them confider, whether any motives there propofed are likely to be found fufficient to withhold men from the gratification of luft, revenge, envy, ambition, avarice, or to prevent the existence of thefe paffions. Unlefs they rife up from this celebrated effay, with stronger impreffions upon their minds, than it ever left upon mine, they will acknowledge the neceffity of additional fanctions. But the neceffity of thefe fanctions is not now the question. If they be in fact eftablished, if the rewards and punishments held forth in the gofpel will actually come to pafs, they must be confidered. Such as reject the Chriftian religi on are to make the best fhift they can to build up a fyftem, and lay the foundations of morality without it. But it appears to me a great inconfiftency in those who receive Chriftianity, and expect fomething to come of it, to endeavour to keep all fuch expectations out of fight, in their reafonings concerning human duty.

The method of coming at the will of God concerning any action, by the light of nature, is to inquire into "the tendency of the action to pro"mote or diminish the general happiness." This rule proceeds upon the prefumption, that God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures; and confequently, that thofe actions, which promote that will and wish, must be agreeable to him; and the contrary.

As this prefumption is the foundation of our whole fyftem, it becomes neceffary to explain the reafons upon which it refts.

CHAP.