CHAP. VI. fums, and the like; which neceffary relations are immediately perceived by the understanding.

The science of politics borrows its principles from what we know by experience of the character and conduct of man. We confider not what he ought to be, but what he is, and thence conclude what part he will act in different fituations and circumftances. From fuch principles we reafon concerning the causes and effects of different forms of government, laws, cuftoms, and manners. If man were either a more perfect or a more imperfect, a better or a worse creature than he is, politics would be a different science from what it is.

The first principles of morals are the immediate dictates of the moral faculty. They fhew us, not what man is, but what he ought to be. Whatever is immediately perceived to be just, honest, and honourable, in human conduct, carries moral obligation along with it, and the contrary carries demerit and blame; and, from those moral obligations that are immediately perceived, all other moral obligations must be deduced by reasoning.

He that will judge of the colour of an object, must confult his eyes, in a good light, when there is no medium or contiguous objects that may give it a falfe tinge. But in vain will he confult every other faculty in this matter.

In like manner, he that will judge of the first principles of morals, must confult his confcience, or moral faculty, when he is calm and difpaffionate, unbiaffed by intereft, affection, or 'fashion.

As we rely upon the clear and distinct teftimony of our eyes, concerning the colours and figures of the bodies about us, we have the fame reafon to rely with fecurity upon the clear and

unbiaffed

1

unbiaffed teftimony of our confcience, with regard to what we CHAP. VI. ought and ought not to do. In many cafes, moral worth and 'demerit are discerned no less clearly by the last of those natural faculties, than figure and colour by the first.

The faculties which nature hath given us, are the only engines we can use to find out the truth. We cannot indeed prove that those faculties are not fallacious, unless GOD fhould give us new faculties to fit in judgment upon the old. But we are born under a neceffity of trusting them.

Every man in his fenfes believes his eyes, his ears, and his other fenfes. He believes his consciousness with respect to his own thoughts and purposes, his memory, with regard to what is past, his understanding, with regard to abstract relations of things, and his tafte, with regard to what is elegant and beautiful. And he has the fame reason, and, indeed, is under the fame neceffity of believing the clear and unbiaffed dictates of his confcience, with regard to what is honourable and what is base.

The fum of what has been said in this chapter is, That, by an original power of the mind, which we call confcience, or the moral faculty, we have the conceptions of right and wrong in human conduct, of merit and demerit, of duty and moral obligation, and our other moral conceptions; and that, by the fame faculty, we perceive fome things in human conduct to be right, and others to be wrong; that the first principles of morals are the dictates of this faculty; and that we have the same reason to rely upon those dictates, as upon the determinations of our fenfes, or of our other natural faculties.

CHAP. VII.

CH A P. . VH.

Of moral Approbation and Difapprobation.

UR moral judgments are not like those we form in speculative matters, dry and unaffecting, but, from their nature, are necessarily accompanied with affections and feelings; which we are now to confider.

It was before observed, that every human action, confidered in a moral view, appears to us good, or bad, or indifferent. When we judge the action to be indifferent, neither good nor bad, though this be a moral judgment, it produces no affection nor feeling, any more than our judgments in fpeculative matters.

But we approve of good actions, and disapprove of bad; and this approbation and disapprobation, when we analyse it, appears to include, not only a moral judgment of the action, but fome affection, favourable or unfavourable, towards the agent, and fome feeling in ourselves.

Nothing is more evident than this, That moral worth, even in a stranger, with whom we have not the least connection, never fails to produce some degree of esteem mixed with good will.

The esteem which we have for a man on account of his moral worth, is different from that which is grounded upon his intellectual accomplishments, his birth, fortune, and connection with us.

Moral worth, when it is not fet off by eminent abilities, and external advantages, is like a diamond in the mine, which is

rough

rough and unpolished, and perhaps crufted over with fome bafer CHAP. VII. material that takes away its luftre.

But, when it is attended with these advantages, it is like a diamond cut, polished, and fet. Then its luftre attracts every Yet these things which add fo much to its appearance,

eye.

add but little to its real value.

We must farther observe, that esteem and benevolent regard, not only accompany real worth by the conftitution of our nature, but are perceived to be really and properly due to it; and that, on the contrary, unworthy conduct really merits diflike and indignation..

There is no judgment of the heart of man more clear, or more irresistible, than this, That efteem and regard are really due to good conduct, and the contrary to base and unworthy conduct. Nor can we conceive a greater depravity in the heart of man, than it would be to fee and acknowledge worth without feeling any respect to it; or to fee and acknowledge the highest worthleffness without any degree of dislike and indignation.

The esteem that is due to worthy conduct, is not leffened when a man is conscious of it in himself. Nor can he help having fome esteem for himself, when he is conscious of those qualities for which he most highly esteems others.

Self-esteem, grounded upon external advantages, or the gifts of fortune, is pride. When it is grounded upon a vain conceit of inward worth which we do not poffess, it is arrogance and felf-deceit. But when a man, without thinking of himself more highly than he ought to think, is conscious of that integrity of heart, and uprightness of conduct, which he most highly esteems in others, and values himself duly upon this account; this perhaps may be called the pride of virtue, but it is not a

vicious

CHAP. VII. vicious pride. It is a noble and magnanimous difpofition, without which there can be no fteady virtue.

A man who has a character with himself, which he values, will disdain to act in a manner unworthy of it. The language of his heart will be like that of JOB, " My righteousness I hold "fast, and will not let it go; my heart fhall not reproach me "while I live."

A good man owes much to his character with the world, and will be concerned to vindicate it from unjuft imputations. But he owes much more to his character with himself. For if his heart condemns him not, he has confidence towards GOD; and he can more easily bear the lash of tongues than the reproach of his own mind.

The sense of honour, so much spoken of, and so often mifapplied, is nothing else, when rightly understood, but the difdain which a man of worth feels to do a dishonourable action, though it should never be known nor fufpected.

A good man will have a much greater abhorrence against doing a bad action, than even against having it unjustly imputed to him. The last may give a wound to his reputation, but the first gives a wound to his confcience, which is more difficult to heal, and more painful to endure.

Let us, on the other hand, confider how we are affected by difapprobation, either of the conduct of others, or of our own.

Every thing we difapprove in the conduct of a man leffens him in our esteem. There are indeed brilliant faults, which, having a mixture of good and ill in them, may have a very different aspect, according to the fide on which we view them.

In