with what the rules of morality prescribe, it is owing merely to an accidental agreement between his duty and his inclination; and that he is not actuated by that motive which can alone render our conduct meritorious. It is justly said, therefore, that to live in the habitual practice of any one vice is to throw off our allegiance to conscience and to our Maker, as decidedly as if we had violated all the rules which duty prescribes; and it is in this sense, I presume, that we ought to interpret that passage of the sacred writings in which it is said, "Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all." *

The word virtue, however, (as I shall have occasion to remark more particularly in the next section,) is applied, not only to express a particular course of external conduct, but to express a particular species or description of human character. When so applied, it seems properly to denote a habit of mind, as distinguished from occasional acts of duty. It was formerly said that the characters of - men receive their denominations of covetous, voluptuous, ambitious, &c., from the particular active principle which prevailingly influences the conduct. A man, accordingly, whose ruling or habitual principle of action is a sense of duty, or a regard to what is right, may be properly denominated virtuous. Agreeably to this view of the subject, the ancient Pythagoreans defined virtue to be "Eşıs Tov dovros, the habit of duty, the oldest definition of virtue of which we have any account, and one of the most unexceptionable which is yet to be found in any system of philosophy.

This account of virtue coincides very nearly with what I conceive to be Dr. Reid's, from some passages in his Essays on the Active Powers of the Human Mind. Virtue he seems to consider as consisting "in a fixed purpose or resolution to act according to our sense of duty.' "We consider the moral virtues as inherent in the mind of a good man, even where there is no opportunity of exercising them. And what is it in the mind which we can call the virtue of justice when it is not exercised? It can ↑ Gale's Opuscula Mythologica, p. 690.

* James ii. 10.

be nothing but a fixed purpose or determination to act according to the rules of justice when there is opportunity.' With all this I perfectly agree. It is the fixed purpose to do what is right, which evidently constitutes what we call a virtuous disposition. But it appears to me that virtue, considered as an attribute of character, is more properly defined by the habit which the fixed purpose gradually forms, than by the fixed purpose itself. It is from the external habit alone that other men can judge of the purpose; and it is from the uniformity and spontaneity of his habit that the individual himself must judge how far his purposes are sincere and steady.

These observations lead to an explanation of what has at first sight the appearance of paradox in the ethical doctrines of Aristotle, that where there is self-denial there is no virtue. That the merit of particular actions is increased by the self-denial with which they are accompanied cannot be disputed; but it is only when we are learning the practice of our duties that this self-denial is exercised (for the practice of morality, as well as of every thing else, is facilitated by repeated acts); and therefore, if the word virtue be employed to express that habit of mind which it is the great object of a good man to confirm, it will follow, that, in proportion as he approaches to it, his efforts of self-denial must diminish, and that all occasion for them would cease if his end were completely attained.

The definition of virtue given by Aristotle, as consisting in "right practical habits, voluntary in their origin," is well illustrated by what Plutarch has told us of the means by which he acquired the mastery over his irascible passions. "I have always approved," says he, "of the engagements and vows imposed on themselves from motives of religion, by certain philosophers, to abstain from wine, or from some other favorite indulgence, for the space of a year. I have also approved of the determination taken by others not to deviate from the truth, even in the lightest conversation, during a particular period. Comparing my own mind with theirs, and conscious that I yielded to none of them in reverence for God, I tasked myself, in the first instance, not to give way to anger upon any occasion for several days. I afterwards extended this resolution to a

month or longer; and having thus made a trial of what I could do, I have learned at length never to speak but with gentleness, and so carefully to watch over my temper as never to purchase the short and unprofitable gratification of venting my resentment at the expense of a lasting and humiliating remorse.

I must not dismiss this topic without recommending, not merely to the perusal, but to the diligent study, of all who have a taste for moral inquiries, Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, in which he has examined, with far greater accuracy than any other author of antiquity, the nature of habits considered in their relation to our moral constitution. The whole treatise is indeed of great value, and, with the exception of a few passages, almost justifies the warm and unqualified eulogium pronounced upon it by a learned divine (Dr. Rennel) before the University of Cambridge; in which he goes so far as to assert, that "it affords not only the most perfect specimen of scientific morality, but exhibits also the powers of the most compact and best constructed system which the human intellect ever produced upon any subject; enlivening occasionally great severity of method, and strict precision of terms, by the sublimest, though soberest, splendor of diction." t

CHAPTER II.

ON AN AMBIGUITY IN THE WORDS RIGHT AND WRONG, VIRTUE AND VICE.

THE epithets right and wrong, virtuous and vicious, are applied sometimes to external actions, and sometimes to the intentions of the agent. A similar ambiguity may be remarked in the corresponding words in other languages.

This ambiguity is owing to various causes, which it is

* De Ira.

We have two English translations of this work; one by Dr. Gillies, the other by Thomas Taylor. - ED.

not necessary at present to trace. Among other circumstances, it is owing to the association of ideas, which, as it leads us to connect notions of elegance or of meanness with many arbitrary expressions in language, so it often leads us to connect notions of right and wrong with external actions, considered abstractly from the motives which produced them. It is owing (at least in part) to this, that a man who has been involuntarily the author of any calamity to another can hardly by any reasoning banish his feelings of remorse; and, on the other hand, however wicked our purposes may have been, if by any accident we have been prevented from carrying them into execution, we are apt to consider ourselves as far less culpable than if we had perpetrated the crimes that we had intended. It is much in the same manner that we think it less criminal to mislead others by hints, or looks, or actions, than by a verbal lie; and, in general, that we think our guilt diminished if we can only contrive to accomplish our ends without employing those external signs, or those external means, with which we have been accustomed to associate the notions of guilt and infamy. Shakspeare has painted with philosophical accuracy this natural subterfuge of a vicious mind, in which the sense of duty still retains some authority, in one of the exquisite scenes between King John and Hubert:

"Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause,
When I spake darkly what I purposed;

Or turned an eye of doubt upon my face,

As bid me tell my tale in express words;

Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me.
But thou didst understand me by my signs,

And didst in signs again parley with sin.'

As this twofold application of the words right and wrong to the intentions of the mind, and to external actions, has a tendency, in the common business of life, to affect our opinions concerning the merits of individuals, so it has misled the theoretical speculations of some very eminent philosophers in their inquiries concerning the principles of morals. It was to obviate the confusion of ideas arising from this ambiguity of language that the distinction between absolute and relative rectitude was introduced into

ethics; and as the distinction is equally just and important, it will be proper to explain it particularly, and to point out its application to one or two of the questions which have been perplexed by that vagueness of expression which it is our object at present to correct.

An action may be said to be absolutely right, when it is in every respect suitable to the circumstances in which the agent is placed; or, in other words, when it is such as, with perfectly good intentions, under the guidance of an enlightened and well-informed understanding, he would have performed.

An action may be said to be relatively right, when the intentions of the agent are sincerely good, whether his conduct be suitable to his circumstances or not.

According to these definitions, an action may be right in one sense and wrong in another; an ambiguity in language, which, how obvious soever, has not always been attended to by the writers on morals.

It is the relative rectitude of an action which determines the moral desert of the agent; but it is its absolute rectitude which determines its utility to his worldly interests, and to the welfare of society. And it is only so far as absolute and relative rectitude coincide, that utility can be affirmed to be a quality of virtue.

A strong sense of duty will indeed induce us to avail ourselves of all the talents we possess, and of all the information within our reach, to act agreeably to the rules of absolute rectitude. And if we fail in doing so, our negligence is criminal. "Crimes committed through ignorance," as Aristotle has very judiciously observed, "are only excusable when the ignorance is involuntary; for when the cause of it lies in ourselves, it is then justly punishable. The ignorance of those laws which all may know if they will does not excuse the breach of them; and neglect is not pardonable where attention ought to be bestowed. But perhaps we are incapable of attention. This, however, is our own fault, since the incapacity has been contracted by our continual carelessness, as the evils of injustice and intemperance are contracted by the daily commission of iniquity, and the daily indulgence in