OF THE OBLIGATION OF PROMISES.
That the rule of morality, which enjoins the performance of
promises, is not _natural_, will sufficiently appear from these two
propositions, which I proceed to prove, viz. _that a promise would not
be intelligible before human conventions had established it; and that
even if it were intelligible, it would not be attended with any moral
obligation_.
I say, _first_, that a promise is not intelligible naturally, nor
antecedent to human conventions; and that a man, unacquainted with
society, could never enter into any engagements with another, even
though they could perceive each other's thoughts by intuition. If
promises be natural and intelligible, there must be some act of the
mind attending these words, I _promise_; and on this act of the mind
must the obligation depend. Let us therefore run over all the faculties
of the soul, and see which of them is exerted in our promises.
The act of the mind, expressed by a promise, is not a _resolution_ to
perform any thing; for that alone never imposes any obligation. Nor is
it a _desire_ of such a performance; for we may bind ourselves without
such a desire, or even with an aversion, declared and avowed. Neither
is it the _willing_ of that action which we promise to perform; for a
promise always regards some future time, and the will has an influence
only on present actions. It follows, therefore, that since the act of
the mind, which enters into a promise, and produces its obligation,
is neither the resolving, desiring, nor willing any particular
performance, it must necessarily be the _willing_ of that _obligation_
which arises from the promise. Nor is this only a conclusion of
philosophy, but is entirely conformable to our common ways of thinking
and of expressing ourselves, when we say that we are bound by our
own consent, and that the obligation arises from our mere will and
pleasure. The only question then is, whether there be not a manifest
absurdity in supposing this act of the mind, and such an absurdity as
no man could fall into, whose ideas are not confounded with prejudice
and the fallacious use of language.
All morality depends upon our sentiments; and when any action or
quality of the mind pleases us _after a certain manner_, we say it is
virtuous; and when the neglect or non-performance of it displeases
us _after a like manner_, we say that we lie under an obligation
to perform it. A change of the obligation supposes a change of the
sentiment; and a creation of a new obligation supposes some new
sentiment to arise. But 'tis certain we can naturally no more change
our own sentiments than the motions of the heavens; nor by a single
act of our will, that is, by a promise, render any action agreeable or
disagreeable, moral or immoral, which, without that act, would have
produced contrary impressions, or have been endowed with different
qualities. It would be absurd, therefore, to will any new obligation,
that is, any new sentiment of pain or pleasure; nor is it possible
that men could naturally fall into so gross an absurdity. A promise,
therefore, is _naturally_ something altogether unintelligible, nor is
there any act of the mind belonging to it.[7]
But, _secondly_, if there was any act of the mind belonging to it, it
could not _naturally_ produce any obligation. This appears evidently
from the foregoing reasoning. A promise creates a new obligation. A new
obligation supposes new sentiments to arise. The will never creates new
sentiments. There could not naturally, therefore, arise any obligation
from a promise, even supposing the mind could fall into the absurdity
of willing that obligation.
The same truth may be proved still more evidently by that reasoning
which proved justice in general to be an artificial virtue. No action
can be required of us as our duty, unless there be implanted in
human nature some actuating passion or motive capable of producing
the action. This motive cannot be the sense of duty. A sense of
duty supposes an antecedent obligation; and where an action is not
required by any natural passion, it cannot be required by any natural
obligation; since it may be omitted without proving any defect or
imperfection in the mind and temper, and consequently without any
vice. Now, 'tis evident we have no motive leading us to the performance
of promises, distinct from a sense of duty. If we thought that promises
had no moral obligation, we never should feel any inclination to
observe them. This is not the case with the natural virtues. Though
there was no obligation to relieve the miserable, our humanity would
lead us to it; and when we omit that duty, the immorality of the
omission arises from its being a proof that we want the natural
sentiments of humanity. A father knows it to be his duty to take care
of his children, but he has also a natural inclination to it. And if
no human creature had that inclination, no one could lie under any
such obligation. But as there is naturally no inclination to observe
promises distinct from a sense of their obligation, it follows,
that fidelity is no natural virtue, and that promises have no force
antecedent to human conventions.
If any one dissent from this, he must give a regular proof of these two
propositions, viz. _that there is a peculiar act of the mind annexed
to promises_; and _that consequent to this act of the mind, there
arises an inclination to perform, distinct from a sense of duty_. I
presume that it is impossible to prove either of these two points; and
therefore I venture to conclude, that promises are human inventions,
founded on the necessities and interests of society.
In order to discover these necessities and interests, we must consider
the same qualities of human nature which we have already found to give
rise to the preceding laws of society. Men being naturally selfish, or
endowed only with a confined generosity, they are not easily induced to
perform any action for the interest of strangers, except with a view
to some reciprocal advantage, which they had no hope of obtaining
but by such a performance. Now, as it frequently happens that these
mutual performances cannot be finished at the same instant, 'tis
necessary that one party be contented to remain in uncertainty, and
depend upon the gratitude of the other for a return of kindness. But
so much corruption is there among men, that, generally speaking, this
becomes but a slender security; and as the benefactor is here supposed
to bestow his favours with a view to self-interest, this both takes
off from the obligation, and sets an example of selfishness, which
is the true mother of ingratitude. Were we, therefore, to follow the
natural course of our passions and inclinations, we should perform
but few actions for the advantage of others from disinterested views,
because we are naturally very limited in our kindness and affection;
and we should perform as few of that kind out of regard to interest,
because we cannot depend upon their gratitude. Here, then, is the
mutual commerce of good offices in a manner lost among mankind, and
every one reduced to his own skill and industry for his well-being
and subsistence. The invention of the law of nature, concerning the
_stability_ of possession, has already rendered men tolerable to each
other; that of the _transference_ of property and possession by consent
has begun to render them mutually advantageous; but still these laws
of nature, however strictly observed, are not sufficient to render
them so serviceable to each other as by nature they are fitted to
become. Though possession be _stable_, men may often reap but small
advantage from it, while they are possessed of a greater quantity of
any species of goods than they have occasion for, and at the same
time suffer by the want of others. The _transference_ of property,
which is the proper remedy for this inconvenience, cannot remedy it
entirely; because it can only take place with regard to such objects
as are _present_ and _individual_, but not to such as are _absent_ or
_general_. One cannot transfer the property of a particular house,
twenty leagues distant, because the consent cannot be attended with
delivery, which is a requisite circumstance. Neither can one transfer
the property of ten bushels of corn, or five hogsheads of wine, by the
mere expression and consent, because these are only general terms, and
have no direct relation to any particular heap of corn or barrels of
wine. Besides, the commerce of mankind is not confined to the barter
of commodities, but may extend to services and actions, which we may
exchange to our mutual interest and advantage. Your corn is ripe
to-day; mine will be so to-morrow. 'Tis profitable for us both that I
should labour with you to-day, and that you should aid me to-morrow. I
have no kindness for you, and know you have as little for me. I will
not, therefore, take any pains upon your account; and should I labour
with you upon my own account, in expectation of a return, I know I
should be disappointed, and that I should in vain depend upon your
gratitude. Here, then, I leave you to labour alone: you treat me in the
same manner. The seasons change; and both of us lose our harvests for
want of mutual confidence and security.
All this is the effect of the natural and inherent principles and
passions of human nature; and as these passions and principles are
unalterable, it may be thought that our conduct, which depends on them,
must be so too, and that 'twould be in vain, either for moralists or
politicians, to tamper with us, or attempt to change the usual course
of our actions, with a view to public interest. And, indeed, did the
success of their designs depend upon their success in correcting the
selfishness and ingratitude of men, they would never make any progress,
unless aided by Omnipotence, which is alone able to new-mould the
human mind, and change its character in such fundamental articles.
All they can pretend to is, to give a new direction to those natural
passions, and teach us that we can better satisfy our appetites in an
oblique and artificial manner, than by their headlong and impetuous
motion. Hence I learn to do a service to another, without bearing him
any real kindness; because I foresee that he will return my service,
in expectation of another of the same kind, and in order to maintain
the same correspondence of good offices with me or with others. And
accordingly, after I have served him, and he is in possession of the
advantage arising, from my action, he is induced to perform his part,
as foreseeing the consequences of his refusal.
But though this self-interested commerce of men begins to take place,
and to predominate in society, it does not entirely abolish the more
generous and noble intercourse of friendship and good offices. I may
still do services to such persons as I love, and am more particularly
acquainted with, without any prospect of advantage; and they may
make me a return in the same manner, without any view but that of
recompensing my past services. In order, therefore, to distinguish
those two different sorts of commerce, the interested and the
disinterested, there is a _certain form of words_ invented for the
former, by which we bind ourselves to the performance of any action.
This form of words constitutes what we call a _promise_, which is
the sanction of the interested commerce of mankind. When a man says
_he promises any thing_, he in effect expresses a _resolution_ of
performing it; and along with that, by making use of this _form of
words,_, subjects himself to the penalty of never being trusted again
in case of failure. A resolution is the natural act of the mind, which
promises express; but were there no more than a resolution in the case,
promises would only declare our former motives, and would not create
any new motive or obligation. They are the conventions of men, which
create a new motive, when experience has taught us that human affairs
would be conducted much more for mutual advantage, were there certain
_symbols_ or _signs_ instituted, by which we might give each other
security of our conduct in any particular incident. After these signs
are instituted, whoever uses them is immediately bound by his interest
to execute his engagements, and must never expect to be trusted any
more, if he refuse to perform what he promised.
Nor is that knowledge, which is requisite to make mankind sensible of
this interest in the _institution_ and _observance_ of promises, to be
esteemed superior to the capacity of human nature, however savage and
uncultivated. There needs but a very little practice of the world, to
make us perceive all these consequences and advantages. The shortest
experience of society discovers them to every mortal; and when each
individual perceives the same sense of interest in all his fellows, he
immediately performs his part of any contract, as being assured that
they will not be wanting in theirs. All of them, by concert, enter
into a scheme of actions, calculated for common benefit, and agree to
be true to their word; nor is there any thing requisite to form this
concert or convention, but that every one have a sense of interest
in the faithful fulfilling of engagements, and express that sense to
other members of the society. This immediately causes that interest
to operate upon them; and interest is the _first_ obligation to the
performance of promises.
Afterwards a sentiment of morals concurs with interest, and becomes
a new obligation upon mankind. This sentiment of morality, in the
performance of promises, arises from the same principles as that
in the abstinence from the property of others. _Public interest,
education_, and _the artifices of politicians_, have the same effect
in both cases. The difficulties that occur to us in supposing a moral
obligation to attend promises, we either surmount or elude. For
instance, the expression of a resolution is not commonly supposed to
be obligatory; and we cannot readily conceive how the making use of a
certain form of words should be able to cause any material difference.
Here, therefore, we _feign_ a new act of the mind, which we call the
_willing_ an obligation; and on this we suppose the morality to depend.
But we have proved already, that there is no such act of the mind, and
consequently, that promises impose no natural obligation.
To confirm this, we may subjoin some other reflections concerning
that will, which is supposed to enter into a promise, and to cause
its obligation. 'Tis evident, that the will alone is never supposed
to cause the obligation, but must be expressed by words or signs, in
order to impose a tie upon any man. The expression being once brought
in as subservient to the will, soon becomes the principal part of the
promise; nor will a man be less bound by his word, though he secretly
give a different direction to his intention, and withhold himself
both from a resolution, and from willing an obligation. But though the
expression makes on most occasions the whole of the promise, yet it
does not always so; and one who should make use of any expression of
which he knows not the meaning, and which he uses without any intention
of binding himself, would not certainly be bound by it. Nay, though he
knows its meaning, yet if he uses it in jest only, and with such signs
as show evidently he has no serious intention of binding himself, he
would not lie under any obligation of performance; but 'tis necessary
that the words be a perfect expression of the will, without any
contrary signs. Nay, even this we must not carry so far as to imagine,
that one, whom, by our quickness of understanding, we conjecture, from
certain signs, to have an intention of deceiving us, is not bound by
his expression or verbal promise, if we accept of it; but must limit
this conclusion to those cases where the signs are of a different kind
from those of deceit. All these contradictions are easily accounted
for, if the obligation of promises be merely a human invention for the
convenience of society; but will never be explained, if it be something
_real_ and _natural_, arising from any action of the mind or body.
I shall farther observe, that, since every new promise imposes a new
obligation of morality on the person who promises, and since this
new obligation arises from his will; 'tis one of the most mysterious
and incomprehensible operations that can possibly be imagined, and
may even be compared to _transubstantiation_, or _holy orders_,[8]
where a certain form of words, along with a certain intention,
changes entirely the nature of an external object, and even of a
human creature. But though these mysteries be so far alike, 'tis very
remarkable that they differ widely in other particulars, and that this
difference may be regarded as a strong proof of the difference of their
origins. As the obligation of promises is an invention for the interest
of society, 'tis warped into as many different forms as that interest
requires, and even runs into direct contradictions, rather than lose
sight of its object. But as those other monstrous doctrines are mere
priestly inventions, and have no public interest in view, they are less
disturbed in their progress by new obstacles; and it must be owned,
that, after the first absurdity, they follow more directly the current
of reason and good sense. Theologians clearly perceived, that the
external form of words, being mere sound, require an intention to make
them have any efficacy; and that this intention being once considered
as a requisite circumstance, its absence must equally prevent the
effect, whether avowed or concealed, whether sincere or deceitful.
Accordingly, they have commonly determined, that the intention of
the priest makes the sacrament, and that when he secretly withdraws
his intention, he is highly criminal in himself; but still destroys
the baptism, or communion, or holy orders. The terrible consequences
of this doctrine were not able to hinder its taking place; as the
inconvenience of a similar doctrine, with regard to promises, have
prevented that doctrine from establishing itself. Men are always more
concerned about the present life than the future; and are apt to think
the smallest evil which regards the former, more important than the
greatest which regards the latter.
We may draw the same conclusion, concerning the origin of promises,
from the force which is supposed to invalidate all contracts, and
to free us from their obligation. Such a principle is a proof
that promises have no natural obligation, and are mere artificial
contrivances for the convenience and advantage of society. If we
consider aright of the matter, force is not essentially different
from any other motive of hope or fear, which may induce us to engage
our word, and lay ourselves under any obligation. A man, dangerously
wounded, who promises a competent sum to a surgeon to cure him, would
certainly be bound to performance; though the case be not so much
different from that of one who promises a sum to a robber, as to
produce so great a difference in our sentiments of morality, if these
sentiments were not built entirely on public interest and convenience.
[7] Were morality discoverable by reason, and not by sentiment, 'twould
be still more evident that promises could make no alteration upon it.
Morality is supposed to consist in relation. Every new imposition of
morality, therefore, must arise from some new relation of objects;
and consequently the will could not produce immediately any change in
morals, but could have that effect only by producing a change upon the
objects. But as the moral obligation of a promise is the pure effect
of the will, without the least change in any part of the universe, it
follows, that promises have no natural obligation.
Should it be said, that this act of the will, being in effect a new
object, produces new relations and new duties; I would answer, that
this is a pure sophism, which may be detected by a very moderate share
of accuracy and exactness. To will a new obligation, is to will a new
relation of objects; and therefore, if this new relation of objects
were formed by the volition itself, we should, in effect, will the
volition, which is plainly absurd and impossible. The will has here
no object to which it could tend, but must return upon itself in
_infinitum_. The new obligation depends upon new relations. The new
relations depend upon a new volition. The new volition has for object a
new obligation, and consequently new relations, and consequently a new
volition; which volition, again, has in view a new obligation, relation
and volition, without any termination. 'Tis impossible, therefore, we
could ever will a new obligation; and consequently 'tis impossible the
will could ever accompany a promise, or produce a new obligation of
morality.
[8] I mean so far as holy orders are supposed to produce the _indelible
Character_. In other respects they are only a legal qualification.