is that a willed act implies both an object at which the agent aims and also an act that is the means by which the object is secured. It is necessary to know enough about how the world works to know what has to be done in order to secure the end willed.
The knowledge in question is scientific since it includes a grasp of the relevant natural laws. Turnbull affirms: “did not fire gently warm and cruelly burn, according to certain fixed laws ascertainable by us, we could not know how to warm ourselves without burning” (p. 58). It is by a like insight into the laws governing the exercise of the mind that we come to acquire much of our knowledge and to contrive our moral improvement. In exercising our liberty, therefore, we use the laws of nature for our own purposes. I know that at a given distance the fire will warm me, not burn me or leave me cold, and I act accordingly. Speaking more generally, the laws of corporeal nature are good insofar as they enable us spiritual beings to realize our aims, all of which embody our values, for if we did not see what we aim at as valuable we would not aim at them.
Formally the same situation obtains with respect to the moral world. For we have dominion over ourselves no less than over things in corporeal nature. We have dominion over our own thinking, for once a thought comes into our head we can determine whether to pursue it or obliterate it, and we can will to start thinking through a given topic. We are therefore just as free in the inner world as in the outer. And in respect of the inner world also, there are laws of nature that we use for our own purposes: “Thus the knowledge of the passions, and their natural bearings and dependencies encrease our power and skill in governing them, by shewing us how they may be strengthned or diminished; directed to proper objects, or taken off from the pursuit of improper ones” (p. 71).
It is with such considerations in mind that Turnbull holds that this “moral anatomy” (i.e., the scientific study of the parts, powers, and affections of the mind) is not only a part, but the most useful part, of “natural philosophy” rightly understood. The goodness of the natural order is spectacularly evident in regard to our perceptual awareness of the world on which we act, and Turnbull comments on the fact that by a very early age we have learned sufficient of the laws concerning the magnitude and distance of objects to be able to judge of such things almost instantaneously. Without a grasp of the relevant laws we would be hopelessly inefficient at getting about in the world. The goodness of these laws is therefore evident.
A final example of a good law among the many that Turnbull spells out is the “law of custom.” The repeated conjunction of two ideas produces a habit of mind by which the subsequent occurrence of either idea draws in its train the other. In short, an “association of ideas” is formed by the mind. This law is as much a law of nature as are any of the laws regarding the corporeal world, and it is no less important for us. Indeed, without it we could not live as human beings, and certainly could not attain the level of culture that we reach; for all education is based on our ability to associate ideas one with another, so that ideas are available for instant recall. Without the law of custom, therefore, “we would plainly continue to be in old age, as great novices to the world as we are in our infancy; as incapable to foresee, and consequently as incapable to direct our conduct” (p. 127).9
Natural laws are operative throughout the natural world both corporeal and spiritual and, as Turnbull seeks to demonstrate in the Principles of Moral Philosophy, all those laws work on behalf of the good, and as such they point to God’s providential care for the world he created. Turnbull’s philosophy, which has fairly been described as a “providential naturalism,”10 is strongly argued, and was no doubt found persuasive by many in the two cohorts of students he taught at Marischal.
In preparing Turnbull’s text for this edition my approach has been minimalist. I have corrected manifest printer’s errors but have not modernized Turnbull’s eighteenth-century spelling nor corrected what may be plain spelling mistakes. The 1740 edition contains a list of errata, and I have silently incorporated the corrections into the text.
I have, however, changed the placement of some footnote markers, especially where they had been placed before the first word of a quotation. In the original text, Turnbull used repeated alphabetical sequences to mark his footnotes; but his omissions, repetitions, and interspersed symbols cause confusion, and so I have chosen to replace his footnote markers with a, b, etc., starting the sequence anew with each page of this edition. My additions to Turnbull’s footnotes are placed in square brackets within the latter. My own notes are marked by arabic numerals. I have also altered the placement of the table of contents. In the original text Turnbull’s annotated contents are placed at the end of each volume. I have moved them to the front of the volumes, where they now precede their respective texts, and have retained the original page numbers. Page breaks in the 1740 edition are indicated in this edition by the use of angle brackets. For example, page 112 of the 1740 edition begins after<112>.
The work includes many Latin quotations. Of these, some are taken from works that were originally in Latin, others from works that were translated into Latin from Greek. For the former, I have reproduced translations from the Loeb Library editions wherever possible. For the latter, I know of no published translations of the Latin editions. In these cases I have given my own translations of the Latin translations that Turnbull used. There are sufficient differences between the Greek text and the Latin translations to prompt my decision to offer a translation of the text that Turnbull certainly read, namely the Latin one, rather than the Greek text, which he may not have known except in Latin translation.
Turnbull seems often to have relied on his memory for biblical passages, whether quoted or paraphrased, and I have silently corrected obvious errors of reference. However, it is not always plain whether Turnbull has misidentified a source of a paraphrase or has found a sense that eludes me in the verses at issue. In such cases I have let his references stand. I have used the King James version.
The many quotations from Pope, except for the translations of Homer, are identified in Alexander Pope, Poetical Works, edited by Herbert Davis (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1966). Although there are some verbal differences between the edition Turnbull used and the modern edition, which is based on the Warburton edition of 1751, I have not annotated the differences.
A bibliography of works used in both volumes is found at the end of volume 2.
I am grateful to Åsa Söderman, Richard Stalley, M. A. Stewart, and Paul Wood for help generously given. My thanks are due also to Glasgow University Library, and especially to the staff of the Special Collections Department, for countless acts of assistance during my months-long search for sources. Spec. Coll. was, as ever, a perfect base for me.
I owe a particular debt to Patricia S. Martin. Through her heroic efforts as my research assistant I was able to submit the typescript in good order and on time. Knud Haakonssen’s invitation to me to prepare an edition of The Principles of Moral and Christian Philosophy provided me with a perfect context for spending many hours of quality time with George Turnbull, a philosopher who has long been one of my favorite thinkers of the Scottish Enlightenment. I am happy to express here my deepest thanks to Professor Haakonssen for the invitation, as well as for his gallant work in taking my typescript forward to publication.
A. Broadie
THE PRINCIPLES OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY
THE
PRINCIPLES
OF
MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
AN
