To apply this to Right and Wrong, the author begins by affirming [what goes a good way towards begging the question] that right and wrong are simple ideas, and therefore the result of an immediate power of perception in the human mind. Beneficence and Cruelty are indefinable, and therefore ultimate. There must be some actions that are in the last resort an end in themselves. This being assumed, the author contends that the power of immediately perceiving these ultimate ideas is the Understanding. Shaftesbury had contended that, because the perception of right and wrong was immediate, therefore it must reside in a special Sense. The conclusion, thinks Price, was, to say the least of it, hasty; for it does not follow that every immediate perception should reside in a special sensibility or sense. He puts it to each one's experience whether, in conceiving Gratitude or Beneficence to be right, one feels a sensation merely, or performs an act of understanding. 'Would not a Being purely intelligent, having happiness within his reach, approve of securing it for himself? Would he not think this right; and would it not be right? When we contemplate the happiness of a species, or of a world, and pronounce on the actions of reasonable beings which promote it, that they are right, is this judging erroneously? Or is it no determination of the judgment at all, but a species of mental taste [as Shaftesbury and Hutcheson supposed]? [As against a moral sense, this reasoning may be effective; but it obviously assumes an end of desire,—happiness for self, or for others—and yet does not allow to that end any share in making up the sense of right and wrong.] Every one, the author goes on to say, must desire happiness for himself; and our rational nature thenceforth must approve of the actions for promoting happiness, and disapprove of the contrary actions. Surely the understanding has some share in the revulsion that we feel when any one brings upon himself, or upon others, calamity and ruin. A being flattered with hopes of bliss and then plunged into torments would complain justly; he would consider that violence had been done to a perception of the human understanding.
He next brings out a metaphysical difficulty in applying right and wrong to actions, on the supposition that they are mere effects of sensation. All sensations, as such, are modes of consciousness, or feelings, of a sentient being, and must be of a nature different from their causes. Colour is in the mind, not an attribute of the object; but right and wrong are qualities of actions, of objects, and therefore must be ideas, not sensations. Then, again, there can be nothing true or untrue in a sensation; all sensations are alike just; while the moral rectitude of an action is something absolute and unvarying. Lastly, all actions have a nature, or character; something truly belonging to them, and truly affirmable of them. If actions have no character, then they are all indifferent; but this no one can affirm; we all strongly believe the contrary. Actions are not indifferent. They are good or bad, better or worse. And if so, they are declared such by an act of judgment, a function of the understanding.
The author, considering his thesis established, deduces from it the corollary, that morality is eternal and immutable. As an object of the Understanding, it has an invariable essence. No will, not even Omnipotence, can make things other than they are. Right and wrong, as far as they express the real characters of actions, must immutably and necessarily belong to the actions. By action, is of course understood not a bare external effect, but an effect taken along with its principle or rule, the motives or reasons of the being that performs it. The matter of an action being the same, its morality reposes upon the end or motive of the agent. Nothing can be obligatory in us that was not so from eternity. The will of God could not make a thing right that was not right in its own nature.
The author closes his first chapter with a criticism of the doctrine of Protagoras—that man is the measure of all things—interpreting it as another phase of the view that he is combating.
Although this chapter is but a small part of the work, it completes the author's demonstration of his ethical theory.
Chapter II. is on 'our Ideas of the Beauty and Deformity of Actions.' By these are meant our pleasurable and painful sentiments, arising from the consideration of moral right and wrong, expressed by calling some actions amiable, and others odious, shocking, vile. Although, in this aspect of actions, it would seem that the reference to a sense is the suitable explanation, he still contends for the intervention of the Understanding. The character of the Deity must appear more amiable the better it is known and understood. A reasonable being, without any special sensibilities, but knowing what order and happiness are, would receive pleasure from the contemplation of a universe where order prevailed, and pain from a prospect of the contrary. To behold virtue is to admire her; to perceive vice is to be moved to condemnation. There must always be a consideration of the circumstances of an action, and this involves intellectual discernment.
The author now qualifies his doctrine by the remark, that to some superior beings the intellectual discernment may explain the whole of the appearances, but inferior natures, such as the human, are aided by instinctive determinations. Our appetites and passions are too strong for reason by itself, especially in early years. Hence he is disposed to conclude that 'in contemplating the actions of moral agents, we have both a perception of the understanding and a feeling of the heart;' but that this feeling of the heart, while partly instinctive, is mainly a sense of congruity and incongruity in actions. The author therefore allows something to innate sense, but differs from Shaftesbury, who makes the whole a matter of intuitive determination.