The various hypotheses for resolving this question may be reduced to two:  (1) an Innate Sentiment, called a Moral Sense, Common Sense, Practical Reason, &c.; and (2) the Theory of Utility.

The author avows his adherence to the theory of Utility, which he connects with the Divine Benevolence in the manner of Bentham.  God designs the happiness of sentient beings.  Some actions forward that purpose, others frustrate it.  The first, God has enjoined; the second, He has forbidden.  Knowing, therefore, the tendency of any action, we know the Divine command with respect to it.

The tendency of an action is all its consequences near and remote, certain and probable, direct and collateral.  A petty theft, or the evasion of a trifling tax, may be insignificant, or even good, in the direct and immediate consequences; but before the full tendency can be weighed, we must resolve the question:—­What would be the probable effect on the general happiness or good, if similar acts, or omissions, were general or frequent?

When the theory of Utility is correctly stated, the current objections are easily refuted.  As viewed by the author, Utility is not the fountain or source of our duties; this must be commands and sanctions.  But it is the index of the will of the law-giver, who is presumed to have for his chief end the happiness or good of mankind.

The most specious objection to Utility is the supposed necessity of going through a calculation of the consequences of every act that we have to perform, an operation often beyond our power, and likely to be abused to forward our private wishes.  To this, the author replies first, that supposing utility our only index, we must make the best of it.  Of course, if we were endowed with a moral sense, a special organ for ascertaining our duties, the attempt to displace that invincible consciousness, and to thrust the principle of utility into the vacant seat, would be impossible and absurd.

According to the theory of Utility, our conduct would conform to rules inferred from the tendencies of actions, but would not be determined by a direct resort to the principle of general utility.  Utility would be the ultimate, not the immediate test.  To preface each act or forbearance by a conjecture and comparison of consequences were both superfluous and mischievous:—­superfluous, inasmuch as the result is already embodied in a known rule; and mischievous, inasmuch as the process, if performed on the spur of the occasion, would probably be faulty.

With the rules are associated sentiments, the result of the Divine, or other, command to obey the rules.  It is a gross and flagrant error to talk of substituting calculation for sentiment; this is to oppose the rudder to the sail.  Sentiment without calculation were capricious; calculation without sentiment is inert.