proper principles. Truth is disputable; not taste: what exists in
the nature of things is the standard of our judgement; what each
man feels within himself is the standard of sentiment.
Propositions in geometry may be proved, systems in physics may be
controverted; but the harmony of verse, the tenderness of
passion, the brilliancy of wit, must give immediate pleasure. No
man reasons concerning another's beauty; but frequently
concerning the justice or injustice of his actions. In every
criminal trial the first object of the prisoner is to disprove
the facts alleged, and deny the actions imputed to him: the
second to prove, that, even if these actions were real, they
might be justified, as innocent and lawful. It is confessedly by
deductions of the understanding, that the first point is
ascertained: how can we suppose that a different faculty of the
mind is employed in fixing the other? On the other hand, those
who would resolve all moral determinations into sentiment, may
endeavour to show, that it is impossible for reason ever to draw
conclusions of this nature. To virtue, say they, it belongs to be
amiable, and vice odious. This forms their very nature or
essence. But can reason or argumentation distribute these
different epithets to any subjects, and pronounce beforehand,
that this must produce love, and that hatred? Or what other
reason can we ever assign for these affections, but the original
fabric and formation of the human mind, which is naturally
adapted to receive them?

The end of all moral speculations is to teach us our duty; and,
by proper representations of the deformity of vice and beauty of
virtue, beget correspondent habits, and engage us to avoid the
one, and embrace the other. But is this ever to be expected from