1. The author will try to prove two propositions that he thinks show that the moral rule that requires that promises be kept is not natural. 1) That a promise wou’d not be intelligible, before human conventions had establish’d it. 2) That even if [a promise] were intelligible, it wou’d not be attended with any moral obligation.

2. If a promise is natural and intelligible, and to have any kind of force of obligation, it must have two features. The first is the words I promise, and the second is an act of mind that accompanies the words. Which faculties of the soul are employed in the making of promises, then?

3. It is not a resolution to perform the act. Merely resolving to do something imposes no obligation to do it. It is not a desire that the act be done. The problem here is in the opposite direction, in that a desire is not a necessary condition for us to bind ourselves through a promise. I might be openly averse to what it is I promise to do. It is not a willing of the action. This is because willing actually carries out the action, whereas a promise is directed at the future. The only possibility left is a willing of the obligation the promise carries: I am bound by my own consent. This is a “conclusion of philosophy” [by elimination of alternatives] and is also one the way we would ordinarily describe the matter themselves. But the author intimates that this conceals an absurdity that can be traced to confusion caused by “prejudice and the fallacious use of language.”

4. The author now reverts to his theory of virtue, saying that a virtuous action or quality of the mind is one that pleases us in a certain way. There is an obligation when the neglect or non-performance of the action displeases us in a certain way. “A change of obligation supposes a change of sentiment; and a creation of a new obligation supposes some new sentiment to arise.” So when we give a promise, we give rise to an obligation only if we thereby cause there to be a new sentiment. But we cannot naturally change our own sentiments, any more than we can change the motions of the heavens. We cannot render an action agreeable or disagreeable simply by an act of the will, when without that act, we would not have had that sentiment. “It wou’d be absurd, therefore, to will any new obligation, that is, any new sentiment of pain or pleasure; nor is it possible, that men cou’d naturally fall into so gross an absurdity.” So there is no act of the mind that naturally produces an obligation through a promise. The author notes in footnote 77 that if reason, and not sentiment, were the basis of the moral distinctions we make, the case would be even worse. Morality is determined by relations among objects, and so a promise would have to change these relations. “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. To say that the act of will is itself a new object, and hence a new relation of duty, is a fallacious way to defend the case. The new object would be produced by the will, so the will would be willing itself, “which is plainly absurd and impossible.” The problem is that an infinite regress would be produced. The regress argument begins with the fact that the original act of will is an element in the relation of duty. Then the author adds a [dubious] premise, that the new act of will which produced the original act of will would itself have to be an object which is an element in the relation of duty, which calls for a new act of will, etc. [But why would any rationalist accept the premise, and why is it needed? Without it, there is no regress, though there may be some other sort of problem in the idea of the will willing the will.]

5. Now the second proposition is addressed: “If there was any act of mind belonging to it, it cou’d not naturally produce any obligation.” The argument is straightforward and is similar to that given in the last paragraph. The will is incapable of producing new sentiments, but, “A new obligation supposes new sentiments to arise.” So even if the mind could do what the author says is absurd, will its own obligation, it could never cause the requisite sentiment to arise.

6. The reasoning which established that justice is an artificial virtue can be adapted to the case of promising. This is the circularity argument, to the effect that an action cannot be undertaken purely with the motive of doing one’s duty. Rather, it must spring from some other, natural, motivation, which is capable of producing the action. If an action can be required by a natural obligation (that of duty), then it can be required by a natural passion. This is because an action is required only if its omission is a defect in character, which would cause disapproval. Suppose we have an action that is required by duty (care of one’s children, for example), but which is not required by a natural passion (regard for one’s children). Then failure to carry out one’s duty is no blemish on the character of the person: there is “no defect in the mind and temper” and as a consequence “no vice.” [This argument rests on a shift in the notion of vice from what causes disapproval to what is a defect in the mind. Yet if a father failed to care for his children, his character would meet with our disapproval.] The only motive for fulfilling a promise is that of performing a duty. “If we thought, that promises had no moral obligation, we never shou’d feel any inclination to observe them. This is not the case with the natural virtues.” Humanity would lead us to help the miserable, even if we were under no obligation to do so. Without the obligation, failure to perform the duty is still a indication of vice, since it is a proof that we do not have “the natural sentiments of humanity.” Similarly, a father has a natural duty to care for his children. He would be under no obligation to do so without this duty. There is no natural inclination to keep promises, so there is no natural duty to keep promises, either. The only motivation to keep promises comes from the artificial duty to do so: “promises have no force, antecedent to human conventions.”

7. The author puts the burden of proof, a burden which he thinks is impossible to bear, on the defender of the natural duty to keep promises. It must be established that 1) there is specific kind of mental act that attaches to promises, and 2) that in inclination to keep the promise, independent of the sense of duty, arises from this act. “I shall venture to conclude, that promises are human inventions, founded on the necessities and interests of society.”

8. So what are these “necessities and interests of society,” upon which the invention of promises rests? Again, the considerations that explained the invention of the laws of justice are called in. The author begins with the natural selfishness or “confin’d generosity” of human beings. Our motives for performing actions to the advantage of strangers is that we expect reciprocal advantage for ourselves, which we could not get otherwise. In many cases, the two reciprocal acts cannot be completed at the same time, so one of the parties will be forced into an uncertain dependence of the gratitude of the other. Humans are so corrupt that this “becomes but a slender security.” Moreover, the person who completed the first act [the benefactor] did so out of selfishness, setting an example of selfishness for the person who benefited from it, and selfishness is “the true mother of ingratitude.” Few people are naturally motivated to do things that would benefit others in whom they have no other interest, and even if it is in their interests, the uncertainty would scare them off. But then a real opportunity is missed, “and every one is reduc’d to his own skill and industry for his well-being and subsistence.” The laws of justice are too limited in this regard. The law of stability of property is of limited value if one has too much of one commodity and too little of another. The law of transferrence allows a remedy for this, but only to the extent that the goods are exchanged at the same time. This means that goods that are absent or would exist only in the future cannot be transferred equitably even with mutual consent, without a promise. Moreover, goods that are conceived generally, such as a certain quantity of a commodity (“ten bushels of corn” [wheat]) could be filled in by any number of different heaps of corn [wheat]. Schemes of co-operation, such as mutual assistance in harvesting crops that mature at different times, also depend on promising.

Moralists and politicians try to overcome these obstacles by trying to correct our selfishness and direct us toward the common interest. But how can they do that, except with the help of God, if the problems arise from “the natural and inherent principles of passions of human nature,” which are “inalterable?” The only solution is to re-direct the 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.” So I do a service to someone else with the expectation that he will return the favor because this will keep up good relations with me. He will do this, “foreseeing the consequences of his refusal.”

10. This artifice takes hold in society, but it does not “entirely abolish the more generous and noble intercourse of friendship and good offices.” I will do good things for them out of love, and they may do good things for me in return from the same motives. Now the author explains the importance of the words, I promise. This allows us to distinguish between the two kinds of return of favor, one based on love and therefore not based on interests, and the other, the promise, based on interests. The promise “is the sanction of the interested commerce of mankind.” The author now [without mentioning the fact] returns to the question of which act of mind instigates a promise, and he settles on resolution. The resolution is accompanied by symbols or signs, which creates a new motive, which is the interests of human affairs in general, which benefit from mutual advantage. The function of the symbols or signs is to enforce the resolution: “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 promis’d.”

11. Even the most savage and uncultivated person recognizes the value of the institution and observance of promises. He will see that everybody has the same interest in these things, and so he will enter into contract with assurance that the other side will fulfill it. “All of them, by concert, enter into a scheme of actions, calculated for common benefit, and agree to be true to their word.” This is done only on the basis of their sense of interest, which they express to everyone else. “This immediately causes that interest to operate on them; and interest is the first obligation to the performance of promises.”

12. The second obligation arises from the “sentiment of morals” that is built up through the same means that promote justice: public interest, education, and the artifices of politicians. Now the problem that was originally raised in paragraph 3 can be addressed. Resolution is not enough to generate an obligation, and it is not clear what help signs of promising add to this. [All it can do, we have now seen, is serve to distinguish this resolution from others, and serve as a sign that we can expect an action in return.] But we ordinarily think, mistakenly, that something else goes on in the mind. “Here, therefore, we feign a new act of the mind, which we call willing an obligation; and on this we suppose the morality to depend.” There is no such thing in reality though, and it was concluded from this that promise-keeping does not impose a natural obligation.

13. The author will now expand on this point by reflecting on the role of the will. By itself, it never creates an obligation, but only when conjoined with the appropriate signs. Then the sign itself becomes “on most occasions the whole of the promise,” there are times when it is ineffectual, as when one who does not know what the words mean. “’Tis necessary, that the words be a perfect expression of the will, without any contrary signs.” Moreover, the signs must not be ones that indicate deceit. These limitations (“contradictions”) can be accounted for by the present system, which regards the whole institution of making promises conventional. These cases are just ones in which the artifice is not correctly put together. They could never be explained “if it be something real and natural, arising from any action of the mind or body.”

14. It appears that the obligation incurred by a promise is just as mysterious as religious rites whereon something real changes merely on the basis of an intention and utterances of words, such as in transubstantiation. But they differ in many respects, which is “strong proof” of their different origins. The obligation of promises is invented in the interests of mankind, and it always has this object in view. This causes it be “warp’d into as many different forms as that interest requires,” even to fall into “direct contradictions” at times. The religious rites, on the other hand, do not have these interests in view (they are “mere priestly inventions”), so they can have disastrous consequences. Even though these inventions are absurd at first sight, they have a sound logic of their own once accepted. In particular, the priest must have the correct intention (“whether avow’d or concealed, whether sincere or deceitful”) for the words to have effect. If a priest performs the external acts of the sacrament does so without the proper intention, the effect does not take place. People think they are partaking of the body and blood of Christ, but they are not. The priest is “highly criminal in himself; but still destroys the baptism, or communion, or holy orders.” But this is not the case with promises, where we do not allow the promise to have no force simply because the promiser was insincere. In fact, we are more concerned with our interests that are reflected in promises than those reflected in religious rites. “Men are always more concern’d 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.”

15. The present system concerning the origin of promises is also drawn from the force that invalidates contracts. Force is a motive of hope and fear, the sort of thing that will induce us to undertake an obligation. If “our sentiments were not built entirely on public interest and convenience,” we would not be able to distinguish between two cases. The first is where a wounded man promises a considerable amount of money to a doctor to treat him. In that case, he is under an obligation. The second is where a robber extracts a promise from us. Then, there is no obligation. [The circumstances of the cases are the same: the promise is made under duress.]

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