to a certain action: In wearinefs, the uneafy fenfation arises from action too long continued, and leads to rest.

But nature intended that we fhould be active, and we need fome principle to incite us to action, when we happen not to be invited by any appetite or paffion.

For this end, when strength and fpirits are recruited by rest, nature has made total inaction as uneafy as exceffive labour.

We may call this the principle of activity. It is most confpicuous in children, who cannot be supposed to know how useful and necessary it is for their improvement to be constantly employed. Their conftant activity therefore appears not to proceed from their having fome end conftantly in view, but rather from this, that they defire to be always doing fomething, and feel uneafinefs in total inaction.

Nor is this principle confined to childhood; it has fects in advanced life.

great ef

When a man has neither hope, nor fear, nor defire, nor project, nor employment, of body or mind, one might be apt to think him the happiest mortal upon earth, having nothing to do but to enjoy himself: but we find him, in fact, the most unhappy.

He is more weary of inaction than ever he was of exceffive labour. He is weary of the world, and of his own exiftence; and is more miserable than the failor wrestling with a storm, or the foldier mounting a breach.

This dismal ftate is commonly the lot of the man who has neither exercise of body nor employment of mind. For the

CHAP. I.

CHAP. I. mind, like water, corrupts and putrifies by stagnation, but by running purifies and refines.

Befides the appetites which nature hath given us for ufeful and neceffary purposes, we may create appetites which nature never gave.

The frequent use of things which stimulate the nervous system, produces a languor when their effect is gone off, and a defire to repeat them. By this means a defire of a certain object is created, accompanied by an uneafy fenfation. Both are removed for a time by the object desired; but they return after a certain interval. This differs from natural appetite, only in being acquired by cuftom. Such are the appetites which some men acquire for the use of tobacco, for opiates, and for intoxicating liqours.

These are commonly called habits, and juftly. But there are different kinds of habits, even of the active fort, which ought to be distinguished. Some habits produce only a facility of doing a thing, without any inclination to do it. All arts are habits of this kind, but they cannot be called principles of action. Other habits produce a pronenefs to do an action, without thought or intention. Thefe we confidered before as mechanical principles of action. There are other habits which produce a defire of a certain object, and an uneafy fenfation, till it is obtained. It is this laft kind only that I call acquired appetites.

As it is best to preserve our natural appetites, in that tone and degree of ftrength which nature gives them, fo we ought to beware of acquiring appetites which nature never gave. They are always useless, and very often hurtful.

Although, as was before obferved, there be neither virtue nor

vice in acting from appetite, there may be much of either in the CHAP. I. management of our appetites.

When appetite is oppofed by fome principle drawing a contrary way, there must be a determination of the will, which shall prevail, and this determination may be, in a moral sense, right or wrong.

Appetite, even in a brute-animal, may be restrained by a stronger principle oppofed to it. A dog, when he is hungry and has meat fet before him, may be kept from touching it by the fear of immediate punishment. In this cafe his fear operates more strongly than his defire.

I

Do we attribute any virtue to the dog on this account? think not. Nor should we afcribe any virtue to a man in a like cafe. The animal is carried by the strongest moving force. This requires no exertion, no felf-government, but paffively to yield to the strongest impulfe. This, I think, brutes always do; therefore we attribute to them, neither virtue nor vice. We confider them as being neither objects of moral approbation, nor difapprobation.

But it may happen, that, when appetite draws one way, it may be opposed, not by any appetite or paffion, but by fome cool principle of action, which has authority without any impulfive force: For example, by fome intereft, which is too diftant to raise any paffion or emotion; or by fome confideration of decency, or of duty.

In cafes of this kind, the man is convinced that he ought not to yield to appetite, yet there is not an equal or a greater impulse to oppose it. There are circumftances, indeed, that convince the judgment, but thefe are not fufficient to determine the will against a strong appetite, without felf-government.

CHAP. I.

I apprehend that brute-animals have no power of self-govern. From their conftitution, they must be led by the appetite or paffion which is ftrongeft for the time.

ment.

On this account they have, in all ages, and among all nations, been thought incapable of being governed by laws, though fome of them may be fubjects of discipline.

The fame would be the condition of man, if he had no power to restrain appetite, but by a stronger contrary appetite or paffion. It would be to no purpose to prescribe laws to him for the government of his actions. You might as well forbid the wind to blow, as forbid him to follow whatever happens to give the strongest present impulse.

Every one knows, that when appetite draws one way, duty, decency, or even intereft, may draw the contrary way; and that appetite may give a stronger impulfe than any one of these, or even all of them conjoined. Yet it is certain, that, in every case of this kind, appetite ought to yield to any of these principles when it ftands opposed to them. It is in such cases that self-government is necessary.

The man who suffers himself to be led by appetite to do what he knows he ought not to do, has an immediate and natural conviction that he did wrong, and might have done otherwise ; and therefore he condemns himself, and confeffes that he yielded to an appetite which ought to have been under his com. mand.

Thus it appears, that though our natural appetites have in themselves neither virtue nor vice,, though the acting merely from appetite, when there is no principle of greater authority to oppose it, be a matter indifferent; yet there may be a great deal of virtue or of vice in the management of our appetites;

and

and that the power of felf-government is neceffary for their regulation.

CHAP. II.

CHA P. II.

Of Defires.

A

NOTHER clafs of animal principles of action in man, I
shall, for want of a better specific name, call defires.

They are distinguished from appetites by this: That there is not an uneasy fenfation proper to each, and always accompanying it; and that they are not periodical, but conftant, not being fated with their objects for a time, as appetites are.

The defires I have in view, are chiefly these three, the defire of power, the desire of esteem, and the defire of knowledge.

We may, I think, perceive fome degree of these principles in brute-animals of the more fagacious kind; but in man they are much more confpicuous, and have a larger sphere.

In a herd of black cattle there is a rank and fubordination. When a stranger is introduced into the herd, he must fight every one till his rank is fettled. Then he yields to the ftronger and affumes authority over the weaker. The cafe is much the fame in the crew of a ship of war.

As foon as men affociate together, the defire of fuperiority discovers itself. In barbarous tribes, as well as among the gregarious kinds of animals, rank is determined by strength, courage, swiftness, or fuch other qualities. Among civilized nations, many things of a different kind give power and rank;