termine himself: that power is termed will; and the determination is an act of will. With refpect to external acts influenced by defire, we cannot even move a finger, without a previous act of wil directing that motion. We are very fenfible of this determination or act of will, when we deliberate upon motives that tend to different ends. The mind for fome time is fufpended, deliberates, and at laft determines according to the ftrongest motive. But there muft alfo be a determination where there is but a fingle motive, though not fo, perceptible. Being called to dinner when hungry, I inftantly obey the call. I cannot go to, dinner without first determining to rife from my feat. And it is this determination that entitles it to be called a voluntary act, as much as where the determination is the refult of the moft anxious deliberation.

Some effects require a train of actions; walking, reading, finging. Where thefe actions are uniform, as in walking, or nearly fo, as in playing on a mufical inftrument, an act of will is only neceffary at the commencement: the train proceeds by habit without any new act of will. The body is antecedently adjusted to the uniform progrefs; and is difturbed if any thing unexpected happen: in walking, for example, a man feels a fhock if he happen to tread on ground higher or lower than his body was prepared for. The power thus acquired by habit of acting without will, is an il

luftrious

lustrious branch of our nature; for upon it depend all the arts, both the fine and the useful. To play on the violin, requires wonderful fwiftnefs of fingers, every motion of which in a learner is preceded by an act of will: and yet by habit folely, an artist moves his fingers with no lefs accuracy than celerity. Let the most handy perfon try for the first time to knit a stocking: every motion of the needle demands the ftricteft attention; and yet a girl of nine or ten will move the needle so swiftly as almoft to escape the eye without once looking on her work. If every motion in the arts required a new act of will, they would remain in infancy for ever; and what would man be in that case? In the foregoing inftances, wę are conscious of the external operation without being confcious of a caufe. But there are various internal operations of which we have no confcioufnefs; and yet that they have existed is made known by their effects. Often have I gone to bed with a confused notion of what I was ftudying; and have awaked in the morning completely mafter of the fubject. I have heard a new tune of which I carried away but an imperfect conception. week or perhaps a fortnight after, the tune has occurred to me in perfection; recollecting with difficulty where I heard it. Such things have happened to me frequently, and probably alfo to others. My mind must have been active in these instances, though I knew nothing of it.

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There ftill remains another fpecies of actions, termed involuntary. Strictly speaking, every action influenced by a motive is voluntary, because no fuch action can be done but by an antecedent act of will. But in a lefs ftrict fenfe, actions done contrary to defire are termed involuntary; and they have more or lefs of that character according to the strength of the motive. A man to free himfelf from torture, reveals the fecrets of his party : his confeffion is in a degree involuntary, being extorted from him with great reluctance. But let us fuppofe, that after the firmeft resolution to reveal nothing, his mind is unhinged by exquifite torture the discovery he makes is in the highest degree involuntary.

Man is by his nature an accountable being, anfwerable for his conduct to God and man. In doing any action that wears a double face, he is prompted by his nature to explain the fame to his relations, his friends, his acquaintance; and above all, to those who have authority over him. He hopes for praise for every right action, and dreads blame for every one that is wrong. But for what fort of actions does he hold himself accountable? Not furely for an inftinctive action, which is done blindly, without intention and without will: neither for an involuntary action, because it is extorted from him reluctantly, and contrary to his defire ; and leaft of all, for actions done without confciousness. What only remain are voluntary actions proceeding from defire, which are done as we fay wittingly

e every

wittingly and willingly for thefe we must account, if at all accountable; and for thefe man in confcience holds himself bound to account. Further upon voluntary actions. To intend and to will, though commonly held fynonymous, fignify different acts of the mind. Intention refpects the effect: Will refpects the action that is exerted for producing the effect. It is my intention, for example, to relieve my friend from distress upon feeing him, it is my will to give him a fum for his relief: the external act of giving follows; and my friend is relieved, which is the effect intended. But thefe internal acts are always united I cannot will the means, without intending the effect; and I cannot intend the effect, without willing the means.

Some effects of voluntary action follow neceffarily A wound is an effect that neceffarily follows the stabbing a person with a dagger: death is a neceffary effect of throwing one down from the battlements of a high tower. Some effects are probable only: I labour in order to provide for my family; fight for my country to refcue it from oppreffors; take phyfic for take phyfic for my health. In fuch cafes, the event intended does not neceffarily nor always follow.

1

A man, when he wills to act, muft intend the neceffary effect: a person who ftabs, certainly intends to wound. But where the effect is probable only,

only, one may act without intending the effect that follows: aftone thrown by me at random into the market-place, may happen to wound a man without my intending it. One acts by inftinct, without either will or intention: voluntary actions, that neceffarily produce their effect, imply intention voluntary actions, when the effect is probable only, are fometimes intended, fometimes not let so to

Human actions are diftinguished from each other by certain qualities, termed right and wrong. But as thefe make the corner-ftone of morality, they are referved to the following fection,

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DIVISION OF HUMAN ACTIONS INTO RIGHT, WRONG, et gobia to AND INDIFFERENT.

THE qualities of right and wrong in voluntary, actions, are univerfally acknowledged as the foundation of morality; and yet philosophers have been ftrangely perplexed about them. The hiftory of their various opinions, would fignify little but to darken the fubject: the reader will have more fatisfaction in feeing thefe qualities explained, without entering at all into controversy.

No perfon is ignorant of primary and fecondary qualities, a diftinction much infifted on by philofophers. Primary qualities, fuch as figure, cohesion, weight, are permanent qualities, that exift in a

fubject