BOOK I
CHAPTER VI: HUMAN HAPPINESS.
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 happiness, when we inquire or pronounce what human
happiness consists in.
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, tranquility, and contentment
of men of different tastes, tempers, stations and pursuits every question
concerning human happiness must receive its decision...
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....
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.
1. Mankind act more from habit than reflection.
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 preestablished habits.
And this constitution seems well adapted to the exigencies 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 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 tenderness 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 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.
A man of confirmed good habits will act in the same manner, without
any consideration at all....
From what has been said may be explained also the nature of habitual
virtue. By the definition of virtue, placed at the beginning of this
chapter, it appears, that the good of mankind is the subject, the will
of God the rule, and everlasting happiness the motive and end of all virtue.
Yet, in fact, a man shall perform many an act of 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 master'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...
BOOK II
CHAPTER I: THE QUESTION “WHY AM I OBLIGED TO KEEP MY WORD?" CONSIDERED.
Why am I obliged to keep my word? Because it is right says
one.--Because it is agreeable to the fitness of things, says another.--Because
it is conformable to reason and nature, says a third.--Because it is conformable
to truth, says a fourth.--Because it promotes the public good, says a fifth.--Because
it is required by the will of God, concludes a sixth.
Upon which different accounts two things are observable;--
FIRST, that they all ultimately coincide. The fitness of
things means their fitness to produce happiness; the nature of things means
that actual constitution of the world, by which some things, as such and
such actions, for example, produce happiness, and others misery; Reason
is the principle by which we discover or judge of this constitution; truth
is this judgment expressed or drawn out into propositions. So that
it necessarily comes to pass, that what promotes the public happiness,
or happiness on the whole, is agreeable to the fitness of things, to nature,
to reason, and to truth; and such (as will appear by and by) is the divine
character, that what promotes the general happiness is required by the
will of God; and what has all the above properties must needs be right;
for right means no more than conformity to the rule we go by, whatever
that rule be.
And this is the reason that moralists from whatever different
principles they set out, commonly 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 anything; 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 WHEN WE SAY 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 some little service, or has a small place in his disposal, ask me upon
some occasion for my vote, I may possibly give it to him from a motive
of gratitude or expectation: but I should hardly say that I was obliged
to give it to 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 to him of course: and my answer
to all who who ask 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 direct me.
SECONDLY, It must result from the command of another. Offer
a man a gratuity for doing anything, 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....
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 of 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...
There is always understood to be a difference between an act
of prudence and an act of duty. Thus, if I distrusted 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:
1. Will there be after this life any distribution of rewards and punishments
at all?
2. 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 proof of a future retribution from
the light of nature. The second question comprises the province,
of morality. Both questions are too much for one work. The affirmative
therefore of the first, although we confess that it is the foundation upon
which the whole fabric rests, must in this treatise be taken for granted.
CHAPTER IV: THE WILL OF GOD
As the will of God is our rule, to inquire what is our duty, or
what we are obliged to do in any instance, is, in effect, to inquire what
is the will of God in that instance ? Which consequently becomes the whole
business of morality.
Now there are two methods of coming at the will of God on any
point:
1. By his express declarations, when they are to be had, and which
must be sought for in Scripture.
2. By what we can discover of his designs and dispositions from his
works; or, as we usually call it, the light of nature.
And here we may observe the absurdity of separating natural and
revealed religion from each other. The object of both is the same--to
discover the will of God;--and, provided we do but discover it, it matters
nothing by what means.
An ambassador, judging by what he knows of his sovereign's disposition,
and arguing from what he has observed of his conduct, or is acquainted
with of his designs, may take his measures in many cases with safety, and
presume with great probability how his master would have him act on most
occasions that arise: but if he have his commission and instructions in
his pocket, it would be strange not to look into them. He will be
directed by both rules: when his instructions are clear and positive, there
is an end to all further deliberation (unless indeed he, suspect their
authenticity); where his instructions are silent or dubious, he will endeavour
to supply or explain them, by what he has been able to collect from other
quarters of his master's general inclination or intentions....
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
promote or diminish the general happiness. This rule proceeds upon
the presumption, that God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness of his
creatures; and, consequently, that those actions which promote that will
and wish must be agreeable to him; and the contrary.
As this presumption is the foundation of our whole system, it
becomes necessary to explain the reasons upon which it rests.
CHAPTER V: THE DIVINE BENEVOLENCE.
WHEN God created the human species, either he wished their happiness,
or he wished their misery, or he was indifferent and unconcerned about
both. If he had wished our misery, he might have made sure
of his purpose, by forming our senses to be so many sores and pains to
us, as they are now instruments of gratification and enjoyment: or by placing
us amidst objects so ill suited to our perceptions, as to have continually
offended us, instead of ministering to our refreshment and delight.
He might have made, for example, every thing we tasted bitter; every thing
we saw loathsome; every thing we touched a sting; every smell a stench;
and every sound a discord.
If be had been indifferent about our happiness or misery, we
must impute to our good fortune (as all design by this supposition is excluded)
both the capacity of our senses to receive pleasure, and the supply of
external objects fitted to produce it. But either of these (and still
more both of them) being too much to be attributed to accident, nothing
remains but the first supposition, that God, when he created the human
species, wished their happiness; and made for them the provision which
he has made, with that view, and for that purpose.
The same argument may be proposed, in different terms, thus:
Contrivance proves design; and the predominant tendency of the contrivance
indicates the disposition of the designer. The world abounds with
contrivances; and all the contrivances which we are acquainted with are
directed to beneficial purposes. Evil, no doubt, exists; but is never,
that we can perceive, the object of contrivance. Teeth are contrived
to eat, not to ache; their aching now and then is incidental to the contrivance,
perhaps inseparable from it; or even, if you will, let it be called a defect
in the contrivance; but it is not the object of it. This is a distinction
which well deserves to be attended to. In describing implements of
husbandry, you would hardly say of the sickle, that it is made to cut the
reaper's fingers, though, from the construction of the instrument and the
manner of using it, this mischief often happens. But if you had occasion
to describe instruments of torture or execution, this engine, you
would say, is to extend the sinews; this to dislocate the joints; this
to break the bones; this to scorch the soles of the feet. Here pain
and misery are the very objects of the contrivance. Now, nothing
of this sort is to be found in the works of nature. We never discover
a train of contrivance to bring about an evil purpose. No anatomist
ever discovered a system or organization calculated to produce pain and
disease; or, in explaining the parts of the human body, ever said, “This
is to irritate; this to inflame; this duct is to convey the gravel to the
kidneys; this gland to secrete the humor which forms the gout”: if by chance
he come at a part of which he knows not the use, the most he can say is,
that it is useless; no one ever suspects that it is put there to incommode,
to annoy, or to torment. Since then God hath called forth his consummate
wisdom to contrive and provide for our happiness, and the world appears
to have been constituted with this design at first; so long as this constitution
is upholden by him, we must in reason suppose the same design to continue....
We conclude, therefore, that God wills and wishes the happiness
of his creatures. And this conclusion being once established, we
are at liberty to go on with the rule built upon it, namely, “that the
method of coming at the will of God concerning an action, by the light
of nature, is to inquire into the tendency of that action to promote or
diminish the general happiness.”
CHAPTER VI: UTILITY.
So, then, actions are to be estimated by their tendency. (Actions
in the abstract are right or wrong, according to their tendency; the agent
is virtuous or vicious, according to his design. Thus, if the question
be, Whether relieving common beggars be right or wrong, we inquire into
the tendency of such a conduct to the the public advantage or inconvenience.
If the question be, Whether a man remarkable for this sort of bounty is
to be esteemed virtuous for that reason, we inquire into his design, whether
his liberality sprang from charity or from ostentation. It is evident
that our concern is with actions in the abstract) Whatever is expedient
is right. It is the utility of any moral rule alone, which constitutes
the obligation of it.
But to all this there seems a plain objection, viz. that many
actions are useful, which no man in his senses will allow to be right.
There are occasions in which the hand of the assassin would be very useful.
The present possessor of some great estate employs his influence and fortune,
to annoy, corrupt, or oppress all about him. His estate would devolve,
by his death, to a successor of an opposite character. It is useful,
therefore, to despatch such a one as soon as possible out of the way; as
the neighborhood will exchange thereby a pernicious tyrant for a wise and
generous benefactor.... Must we admit these actions to be right,
which would be to justify assassination, plunder, and perjury; or must
we give up our principle, that the criterion of right is
utility ? It is not necessary to do either.
The true answer is this; that these actions, after all, are not
useful, and for that reason, and that alone, are not right. To see
this point perfectly, it must be observed, that the bad consequences of
actions are twofold, particular and general.
The particular bad consequences of an action is the mischief
which that single action directly and immediately occasions.
The general bad consequence is the violation of some necessary
or useful general rule.
Thus, the particular bad consequence of the assassination above
described is the fright and pain which the deceased underwent; the loss
he suffered of life, which is as valuable to a bad man as to a good one,
or more so; the prejudice and affliction of which his death was the occasion,
to his family, friends, and dependents.
The general bad consequence is the violation of this necessary
general rule, that no man be put to death for his crimes but by public
authority.
Although, therefore, such an action have no particular bad consequences,
or greater particular good consequences, yet it is not useful, by reason
of the general consequence, which is of more importance, and which is evil...
But as this solution supposes that the moral government of the world must
proceed by general rules, it
remains that we show the necessity of this.
CHAPTER VII: THE NECESSITY OF GENERAL RULES.
You cannot permit one action and forbid another without showing
a difference between them. Consequently, the same sort of actions
must be generally permitted or generally forbidden. Where, therefore,
the general permission of them would be pernicious, it becomes necessary
to lay down and support the rule which generally forbids them.
Thus, to return once more to the case of the assassin, the assassin
knocked the rich villain on the head, because he thought him better out
of the way than in it. If you allow this excuse in the present instance,
you must allow it to all who act in the same manner and from the same motive;
that is, you must allow every man to kill any one he meets whom he thinks
noxious or useless; which, in the event, would be to commit every man's
life and safety to the spleen, fury, and fanaticism of his neighbour;--a
disposition of affairs which would soon fill the world with misery and
confusion; and ere long put an end to human society, if not to the human
species...
Before we prosecute the consideration of general consequences
any further, it may be proper to anticipate a reflection, which will be
apt enough to suggest itself in the progress of our argument.
As the general consequence of an action, upon which so much of
the guilt of a bad action depends, consists in the example; it should seem
that if the action be done with perfect secrecy, so as to furnish no bad
example, that part of the guilt drops off. In the case of suicide,
for instance, if a man can so manage matters, as to take away his own life
without being known or suspected to have done so, he is not chargeable
with any, mischief from the example; nor does his punishment seem necessary,
in order to save the authority of any general rule.
In the first place, those who reason in this manner do not observe
that they are setting up a general rule, of all others the least to be
endured; namely, that secrecy, whenever secrecy is practicable, will justify
any action.
Were such a rule admitted, for instance in the case above produced;
is there not reason to fear that people would be disappearing perpetually?
In the next place, I would wish them to be well satisfied about
the points proposed in the following queries:
1. Whether the Scriptures do not teach us to expect that, at the general
Judgment of the world, the most secret actions will be brought to light?
2. For what purpose can this be, but to make them the objects of reward
and punishment ?
3. Whether, being so brought to light, they will not fall under the
operation of those equal and impartial rules, by which-God will deal with
his creatures?
They will then become examples, whatever they be now; and require the
same treatment from the judge and governor of the moral world, as if they
had been detected from the first.
CHAPTER VIII: THE CONSIDERATION OF GENERAL CONSEQUENCES PURSUED.
THE general consequence of any action may be estimated, by asking
what would be the consequence, if the same sort of actions were generally
permitted. But suppose they were, and a thousand such actions perpetrated
under this permission; is it just to charge a single action with the collected
guilt and mischief of the whole thousand? I answer, that the reason for
prohibiting and punishing an action (and this reason may be called the
guilt of the action, if you please) will always be in proportion to the
whole mischief that would arise from the general impunity and toleration
of actions of the same sort.
“Whatever is expedient is right.” But then it must be expedient
on the whole, at the long run, in all its effects collateral and remote,
as well as in those which are immediate and direct; as it is obvious, that,
in computing consequences, it makes no difference in what way or at what
distance they ensue.
To impress this doctrine on the minds of young readers, and to
teach them to extend their views beyond the immediate mischief of a crime,
I shall here subjoin a string of instances, in which the particular consequences
are comparatively insignificant; and where the malignity of the crime,
and the severity with which human laws pursue it, is almost entirely founded
upon the general consequence.
The particular consequence of coining is the loss of a guinea
or of half a guinea to the person who receives the counterfeit money: the
general consequence (by which I mean the consequence, that would
ensue if the same practice were generally permitted) is to abolish the
use of money....
The particular consequence of breaking into a house empty of
inhabitants is the loss of a pair of siIver candlesticks or a few spoons:
the general consequence is that nobody could leave their house empty....
And what proves incontestably the superior importance of general
consequences is that crimes are the same, and treated in the same manner,
though the particular consequence be very different. The crime and
fate of the house-breaker is the same, whether his booty be five pounds
or fifty. And the reason is that the general consequence is the same...
CHAPTER IX: OF RIGHT
RIGHT and obligation are reciprocal; that is, whereever there
is a right in one person, there is a corresponding obligation upon others.
If one man has a right to an estate, others are obliged to abstain from
it;--if parents have a right to reverence from their children, children
are obliged to reverence their parents;--and so in all other instances.
Now because moral obligation depends as we have seen,
upon the will of God; right, which is correspective to it, must
depend upon the same. Right therefore signifies consistency with
the will of God.
But if the Divine will determine the distinction of right and
wrong, what else is it but an identical proposition, to say of God, that
he acts right? or how is it possible to conceive even that he should act
wrong? Yet these assertions are intelligible and significant.
The case is this: By virtue of the two principles, that God wills the happiness
of his creatures, and that the will of God is the measure of right and
wrong, we arrive at certain conclusions; which conclusions become rules;
and we soon learn to pronounce actions right or wrong, according as they
agree or disagree with our rules, without looking any further: and when
the habit is once established of stopping at the rules, we can go back
and compare with these rules even the Divine conduct itself; and yet it
may be true (not only observed by us at the time) that the rules themselves
are deduced from the Divine will.