The theory of derivation is bound to account for the fact, recognized in the language of mankind, that the Moral Faculty is ONE.  The principle of association would account for the fusion of many different sentiments into one product, wherein the component parts would cease to be discerned; but this is not enough.  Why do these particular sentiments and no others coalesce in the total—­Conscience.  The answer is what was formerly given with reference to Butler; namely, while all other feelings relate to outward objects, the feelings brought together in conscience, contemplate exclusively the dispositions and actions of voluntary agents.  Conscience is thus an acquired faculty, but one that is universally and necessarily acquired.

The derivation is farther exemplified by a comparison with the feelings of Taste.  These may have an original reference to fitness—­as in the beauty of a horse—­but they do not attain their proper character until the consideration of fitness disappears.  So far they resemble the moral faculty.  They differ from it, however, in this, that taste ends in passive contemplation or quiescent delight; conscience looks solely to the acts and dispositions of voluntary agents.  This is the author’s favourite way of expressing what is otherwise called the authority and supremacy of conscience.

To sum up:—­the principal constituents of the moral sense are Gratitude, Sympathy (or Pity), Resentment, and Shame; the secondary and auxiliary causes are Education, Imitation, General Opinion, Laws and Government.

In criticising Paley, he illustrates forcibly the position, that Religion must pre-suppose morality.

His criticism of Bentham gives him an opportunity of remarking on the modes of carrying into effect the principle of Utility as the Standard.  He repeats his favourite doctrine of the inherent pleasures of a virtuous disposition, as the grand circumstance rendering virtue profitable and vice unprofitable.  He even uses the Platonic figure, and compares vice to mental distemper.  It is his complaint against Bentham and the later supporters of Utility, that they have misplaced the application of the principle, and have encouraged the too frequent appeal to calculation in the details of conduct.  Hence arise sophistical evasions of moral rules; men will slide from general to particular consequences; apply the test of utility to actions and not to dispositions; and, in short, take too much upon themselves in settling questions of moral right and wrong. [He might have remarked that the power of perverting the standard to individual interests is not confined to the followers of Utility.] He introduces the saying attributed to Andrew Fletcher, ’that he would lose his life to serve his country, but would not do a base thing to save it.’

He farther remarks on the tendency of Bentham and his followers to treat Ethics too juridically.  He would probably admit that Ethics is strictly speaking a code of laws, but draws the line between it and the juridical code, by the distinction of dispositions and actions.  We may have to approve the author of an injurious action, because it is well-meant; the law must nevertheless punish it.  Herein Ethics has its alliance with Religion, which looks at the disposition or the heart.