the material system, in changing the face of the earth, and furnishing the accommodations of human life..

But, in order to produce those happy changes, man himself must be improved.

His animal faculties are sufficient for the preservation of the species; they grow up of themselves, like the trees of the forest, which require only the force of nature and the influences of heaven.

His rational and moral faculties, like the earth itself, are rude and barren by nature, but capable of a high degree of culture; and this culture he must receive from parents, from instructors, from those with whom he lives in society, joined with his own industry.

If we consider the changes that may be produced by man upon his own mind, and upon the minds of others, they appear to be great.

Upon his own mind he may make great improvement in acquiring the treasures of useful knowledge, the habits of skill in arts, the habits of wisdom, prudence, self-command, and every other virtue. It is the constitution of nature, that such qualities as exalt and dignify human nature are to be acquired by proper exertions; and by a contrary conduct, such qualities as debase it below the condition of brutes.

Even upon the minds of others, great effects may be produced by means within the compass of human power; by means of good education, of proper instruction, of persuasion, of good example, and by the discipline of laws and government.

That these have often had great and good effects on the civilization and improvement of individuals, and of nations, cannot be doubted. But what happy effects they might have, if applied universally with the skill and address that is within the reach of human wisdom and power, is not easily conceived, or to what pitch the happiness of human society, and the improvement of the species, might be carried.

What a noble, what a divine employment of human power is here assigned us! How ought it to rouse the ambition of parents, of instructors, of lawgivers, of magistrates, of every man in his station, to contribute his part towards the accomplishment of so glorious an end!

The power of man over his own and other minds, when we trace it to its origin, is involved in darkness, no less than his power to move his own and other bodies.

How far we are properly efficient causes, how far occasional causes, I cannot pretend to determine.

We know that habit produces great changes in the mind; but how it does so, we know not. We know, that example has a powerful, and, in the early period of life, almost an irresistible effect; but we know not how it produces this effect. The communication of thought, sentiment and passion, from one mind to another, has something in it as mysterious as the communication of motion from one body to another.

We perceive one event to follow another, according to established laws of nature, and we are accustomed to call the first the cause, and the last the effect, without knowing what is the bond that unites them. In order to produce a certain event, we use means which, by laws of nature, are connected with that event; and we call ourselves the cause of that event, though other efficient causes may have had the chief hand in its production. Upon the whole, human power, in its existence, in its extent, and in its exertions, is entirely dependent upon God, and upon the laws of nature which he has established. This ought to banish pride and arrogance from

the most mighty of the sons of men. At the same time, that degree of power which we have received from the bounty of Heaven, is one of the noblest gifts of God to man; of which we ought not to be insensible, that we may not be ungrateful, and that we may be excited to make the proper use of it.

The extent of human power is perfectly suited to the state of man, as a state of improvement and discipline. It is sufficient to animate us to the noblest exertions. By the proper exercise of this gift of God, human nature, in individuals and in societies, may be exalted to a high degree of dignity and felicity, and the earth become a paradise. On the contrary, its perversion and abuse is the cause of most of the evils that afflict human life.

ESSAY II.

OF THE WILL.

CHAPTER I.

OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING THE WILL.

EVERY man is conscious of a power to determine, in things which he conceives to depend upon his determination. To this power we give the name of will; and as it is usual, in the operations of the mind, to give the same name to the power and to the act of that power, the term will is often put to signify the act of determining, which more properly is called volition.

Volition, therefore, signifies the act of willing and determining, and will is put indifferently to signify either the power of willing or the act.

But the term will has very often, especially in the writings of philosophers, a more extensive meaning, which we must carefully distinguish from that which we have now given.

In the general division of our faculties into understanding and will, our passions, appetites and affections are comprehended under the will; and so it is made to signify, not only our determination to act or not to act, but every motive and incitement to action,

It is this probably that has led some philosophers to represent desire, aversion, hope, fear, joy, sorrow, all our appetites, passions and affections, as different modifications of the will, which, I think, tends to confound things which are very different in their nature.

The advice given to a man, and his determination consequent to that advice, are things so different in their nature, that it would be improper to call them modifications of one and the same thing. In like manner, the motives to action, and the determination to act or not to act, are things that have no common nature, and therefore ought not to be confounded under one name, or represented as different modifications of the same thing. For this reason, in speaking of the will in this Essay, I do not comprehend under that term any of the incitements or motives which may have an influence upon our determinations, but solely the determination itself, and the power to determine.

Mr. Locke has considered this operation of the mind more attentively, and distinguished it more accurately, than some very ingenious authors who wrote after him.

He defines volition to be, " An act of the mind knowingly exerting that dominion it takes itself to have over any part of the man, by employing it in, or withholding it from, any particular action."

It may more briefly be defined, The determination of the mind to do, or not to do something which we conceive to be in our power.

If this were given as a strictly logical definition, it would be liable to this objection, that the determination of the mind is only another term for volition. But it ought to be observed, that the most simple acts of the

mind do not admit of a logical definition. The way to form a clear notion of them is, to reflect attentively upon them as we feel them in ourselves. Without this reflection, no definition can give us a distinct conception of them.

For this reason, rather than sift any definition of the will, I shall make some observations upon it, which may lead us to reflect upon it, and to distinguish it from other acts of mind, which, from the ambiguity of words, are apt to be confounded with it.

First, Every act of will must have an object. He that wills must will something; and that which he wills is called the object of his volition. As a man cannot think without thinking of something, nor remember without remembering something, so neither can he will without willing something. Every act of will, therefore, must have an object; and the person who wills must have some conception, more or less distinct, of what he wills. By this, things done voluntarily are distinguished from things done merely from instinct, or merely from habit.

A healthy child, some hours after its birth, feels the sensation of hunger, and if applied to the breast, sucks and swallows its food very perfectly. We have no reason to think, that, before it ever sucked, it has any conception of that complex operation, or how it is performed. It cannot, therefore, with propriety, be said, that it wills to suck.

Numberless instances might be given of things done by animals without any previous conception of what they are to do; without the intention of doing it. They act by some inward blind impulse, of which the efficient cause is hid from us; and though there is an end evidently intended by the action, this intention is not in the animal, but in its Maker.

Other things are done by habit, which cannot properly be called voluntary. We shut our eyes several times every minute while we are awake; no man is conscious of willing this every time he does it.

A second observation is, That the immediate object of will must be some action of our own.

By this, will is distinguished from two acts of the mind, which sometimes take its name, and thereby are apt to be confounded with it; these are desire and command.

The distinction between will and desire has been well explained by Mr. Locke; yet many later writers have overlooked it, and have represented desire as a modification of will.

Desire and will agree in this, that both must have an object, of which we must have some conception; and therefore both must be accompanied with some degree of understanding. But they differ in several things.

The object of desire may be any thing which appetite, passion, or affection, leads us to pursue; it may be any event which we think good for us, or for those to whom we are well affected. I may desire meat, or drink, or ease from pain. But to say that I will meat, or will drink, or will ease from pain, is not English. There is therefore a distinction in common language between desire and will. And the distinction is, That what we will must be an action, and our own action; what we desire may not be our action, it may be no action at all.

A man desires that his children may be happy, and that they may behave well. Their being happy is no action at all; their behaving well is not his action but theirs.

With regard to our own actions, we may desire what we do not will, and will what we do not desire; nay, what we have a great aversion to.

A man a-thirst has a strong desire to drink, but, for some particular

reason, he determines not to gratify his desire. A judge, from a regard to justice, and to the duty of his office, dooms a criminal to die, while, from humanity or particular affection, he desires that he should live. A man for health may take a nauseous draught, for which he has no desire, but a great aversion. Desire, therefore, even when its object is some action of our own, is only an incitement to will, but it is not volition. The determination of the mind may be, not to do what we desire to do. But as desire is often accompanied by will, we are apt to overlook the distinction

between them.

The command of a person is sometimes called his will, sometimes his desire; but when these words are used properly, they signify three different acts of the mind.

The immediate object of will is some action of our own; the object of a command is some action of another person, over whom we claim authority; the object of desire may be no action at all.

In giving a command all these acts concur; and as they go together, it is not uncommon in language, to give to one the name which properly belongs to another.

A command being a voluntary action, there must be a will to give the command: some desire is commonly the motive to that act of will, and the command is the effect of it.

Perhaps it may be thought that a command is only a desire expressed by language, that the thing commanded should be done. But it is not so. For a desire may be expressed by language when there is no command; and there may possibly be a command without any desire that the thing commanded should be done. There have been instances of tyrants who have laid grievous commands upon their subjects, in order to reap the penalty of their disobedience, or to furnish a pretence for their punishment.

We might farther observe, that a command is a social act of the mind. It can have no existence but by a communication of thought to some intelligent being; and therefore implies a belief that there is such a being, and that we can communicate our thoughts to him.

Desire and will are solitary acts, which do not imply any such communication or belief.

The immediate object of volition, therefore, must be some action, and our own action.

A third observation is, That the object of our volition must be something which we believe to be in our power, and to depend upon our will.

A man may desire to make a visit to the moon, or to the planet Jupiter, but he cannot will or determine to do it; because he knows it is not in his power. If an insane person should make an attempt, his insanity must first make him believe it to be in his power.

A man in his sleep may be struck with a palsy, which deprives him of the power of speech; when he awakes, he attempts to speak, not knowing that he has lost the power. But when he knows by experience that the power is gone, he ceases to make the effort.

The same man, knowing that some persons have recovered the power of speech after they had lost it by a paralytical stroke, may now and then make an effort. In this effort, however, there is not properly a will to speak, but a will to try whether he can speak or not.

In like manner, a man may exert his strength to raise a weight which is too heavy for him. But he always does this, either from the belief that he can raise the weight, or for a trial whether he can or not. It is evident,