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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 Princeton Theological Seminary Library 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/lecturescorrecte02smit 
 
THE 
 
 CORRECTED AND IMPROVED, 
 
 WHICH 
 
 HAVE BEEN DELIVERED FOR A SERIES OF YEARS, 
 
 IN THE 
 
 COLLEGE OF NEW-JERSEY; 
 
 ON THE SUBJECTS OF 
 
 MORAL AXB POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 THE FORMER PART EMBRACING, 
 
 I. The general principles of human nature considered as a subject of moral sciencei 
 
 II. The principles of ethics, or the moral relations and duties of men. 
 
 III. The principles of natural theology. 
 
 TV. And lastly, those of economies, or family relations, as preparatory to the consideration of 
 the relations and duties of civil and political life. 
 
 THE LATTER PART EMBRACING, 
 
 I. The rules which ought to regulate the conduct of men towards one another in a state of 
 civil society, and the means of enforcing those rules. 
 
 II. The rules and principles which give the form to the society or government itself, and 
 which direct its operations. 
 
 III. And finally, the rules which should govern the conduct of independent governments or 
 states to one another — the whole comprehending those general principles on the subjects of 
 jurisprudence, polities, and public law, or the law of nature and nations, with which every 
 man of liberal information in a free country ought to be acquainted. 
 
 1 
 
 BY THE REV. SAMUEL STANHOPE SMITH, D. D. L. L. D. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 TRENTON: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY DANIEL FENTON, 
 
 FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 
 JAMES J. WILSON, PRINTER. 
 
 1812. 
 
w^ 
 
 X 
 
 «; • ' ■ 
 
 DISTRICT OF NEW JERSEY, ss. 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty-ninth day of August, in the thirty-seventh 
 year of the independence of the United States of America, Samuel Stanhope Smith, of the said 
 district, hath deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof he claims as author, in 
 the words following, to wit: "The Lectures, corrected and improved, which have been de» 
 livered for a series of years in the college of New-Jersey, on the subjects of moral and political 
 philosophy, by the Rev. Samuel Stanhope Smith, D. D. L. L. D. The former part embracing, 
 1st, The general priuciplesof human nature considered as a subject of moral science. 2d, The 
 principles of ethics, or the moral relations and duties of men. 3d. The principles of natural the- 
 ology. 4th, And lastly, Those of economics, or family relations, as preparatory to the conside- 
 ration of the relations andduties of civil and political life. The latter part embracing, 1st, The 
 rules which ought to regulate the conduct of men towards one another in a state of civil society, 
 and the means or eulorfing tnose rui„ a . 2(L The n , )es ^ principle which give the form to 
 the society or government itselt,ai«I whicn tureci i u upri-aauiui °o, j«-™j finally, The rules 
 which should govern the conduct of independent governments or states to one anuiha — the whole 
 comprehending those general principles on the subjects of jurisprudence, politics, and public 
 law, or the law of nature and nations, with which every man of liberal information in a free 
 
 country ought to lie acquainted" In conformity totheact of the congress of the United States 
 
 entitled " An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and 
 books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned," and 
 also an act entitled " An act supplementary to an act entitled an act for the encouragement of 
 learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of 
 such copies, during the timt therein mentioned, and extending the benefit thereof to the arts of 
 designing, engraving and etching historical and other prints." 
 
 ROBERT BOGGS, 
 
 Clerk of the District of JV\ Jersey, 
 
LECTURES, 
 
 LECTURE XV. 
 
 OF NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 (TOJNTEJNXS. 
 
 Of Natural Theology, wherein it consists, and its con- 
 nexion with the science of morals — The proofs of the 
 divine existence divided into two kinds, the scientific, 
 and popular — Mr Hume's idea of cause — Sketch ofDr 
 S. Clarke's demonstration of the being and attributes of 
 God — The popular mode of reasoning from the works 
 of nature to the existence, wisdom and power of its 
 Author. — Jin exhortation to study natural history par- 
 ticularly with this view.— .Proof of the same truth from 
 the general sentiments of mankind. — Proof, from the 
 absurdity of the reasons invented to account for the 
 origin of things independent of God. — Chance and dis- 
 order ignordntly ascribed to the works of nature. — The 
 attributes of the Deity — First, of the natural attributes, 
 spirituality, unity, wisdom, power, eternity, omnipre- 
 sence — Second, of his moral attributes, holiness, good- 
 vol. ii. jb 
 
10 
 
 ness, justice. — Some ohjections to the divine goodness 
 on the score of the evils which exist in the world con- 
 sidered. — Of the evils which attend our entrance into 
 the world, and departure from it. — Of the justice of 
 God, distributive, and vindictive. 
 
 NATURAL Theology, which consists in the knowl- 
 edge of those truths which maybe discovered by the ex- 
 ercise of human reason alone, concerning the being and 
 attributes of find, is intimately connected with the sci- 
 ence of duty and morals. Among the strongest percep- 
 tions of our nature are those which indicate to us amoral 
 law to which we are subject, and render us susceptible of 
 moral obligation. From that sense of morality, which 
 has been already explained, results a profound conviction 
 of the existence of this law, and of a Supreme Law- 
 giver Avho imposes obedience to it by the authority of our 
 own internal sentiments, and by the reference whieh they 
 bear to his righteous judgment which they teaeh us to ap- 
 prehend. As reason brings from every survey of the works 
 of nature, irresistible demonstration of the existence of a 
 Deity, infinitely wise, powerful, and benevolent ; con- 
 science draws from our own internal feelings, the deep 
 persuasion of his being a most holy and righteous judge 
 of moral conduct. The conviction of these truths must 
 ever possess a useful influence on the morals of mankind. 
 The informations of reason, or the restraints of con 
 
11 
 
 science, unsupported by this principle, would impose too 
 feeble a check on the force of irregular propensities, or 
 the impulse of unlawful passions. A vicious man, ac- 
 countable only to himself, would soon learn to overbear 
 the remonstrances of his own mind. For although an 
 atheist, educated in the midst of a religious people, may 
 be preserved within the bounds of a decent morality, by 
 respect for himself, or a prudent deference to the opinion 
 of the world ; yet if the belief of the existence of God 
 were eradicated from the public mind, the mass of the 
 people would esteem secrecy alone to be a sufficient justi- 
 fication of any action dictated by inclination. That use- 
 ful influence which public opinion now creates in favor of 
 virtuous manners, would on the prevalence of a general 
 atheism cease to exist, and the bands of society, which 
 are effectually maintained only by the public morals, 
 would hasten to be dissolved. 
 
 Natural theology, therefore, brings to view the most 
 powerful sanction of the moral law. It renders the law 
 itself more clear by discovering the source from which 
 it emanates : — inasmuch as the human mind, when sensi- 
 bly placing itself in the divine presence, becomes more 
 susceptible of the impressions of truth, — more ready to 
 admit its evidence, and more apprehensive of being mis- 
 led by the sophistries of error The theory of duty, 
 
 therefore, is naturally conjoined with that science which 
 
12 
 
 js employed in demonstrating the existence, and unfold- 
 ing the perfections of the divine and infinite mind. 
 
 The proofs of the being of God have usually been de- 
 rived from two sources — the necessary nature of our 
 ideas — and the structure of the universe. The one has 
 been denominated the scientific, the other the popular 
 mode of proof; — or, in the language of the schools, rea- 
 soning a priori, and a posteriori. The former is reason- 
 ing from the cause to the effect, the latter, from the ef- 
 fect to the cause. Both these modes of proof rest on one 
 common principle, or necessary idea,— .that every effect, 
 or every thing which begins to be must have a cause of 
 its existence. It was one of Mr Hume's metaphisical pe- 
 culiarities, to deny the idea of causality ; maintaining, 
 that, in contemplating the production of any effect, we 
 have no other notion than of one event succeeding another. 
 This position, which was intended to destroy our belief in 
 creation, will find its refutation in each man's own clear 
 and natural perceptions. Can any person declare that his 
 ideas of succession, and of cause are precisely the same ? 
 It may be difficult, or impossible to give an accurate defi- 
 nition of the difference, because they are both ideas of the 
 simplest kind, but may be perceived by the plainest un- 
 derstanding to be perfectly distinct.* Admitting, then, 
 
 * The idea of cause has, not improbably, been derived ori- 
 ginally from some active operation of our own will upon some 
 
la 
 
 the reality of the idea of cause, and the truth of the prin- 
 ciple, that whatever hegins to he must have a cause, the 
 necessary consequence is, either, that the universe con- 
 sists of an eternal succession of causes dependent one upon 
 another, or we must look for its existence in some first 
 cause, eternal, unproduced, the source of all motion and 
 power in the operations of nature, the cause of whose 
 being is to be found only in itself, and the necessity of its 
 own nature. The idea of an eternal succession of events, 
 each frail and imperfect, and all dependent one upon 
 another, involves too evident an absurdity to be admitted 
 by philosophy. 
 
 We are obliged, therefore, to adopt the only alterna- 
 tive that remains, — the existence of a first cause, origin- 
 al, and independent, from which all things else have 
 been derived. If we ask whence then exists this first 
 cause? Being original and underived, we can find no 
 reason for its existence but in the necessity of its own 
 nature. A being existing by necessity of nature, can 
 never begin to be; it must be eternal. For the same 
 reason, it must be unchangeable ; for if any change could 
 
 part of our muscular system, producing an exertion of force or 
 strength which is immediately followed by an effect evidently 
 occasioned by that act. I by no means, however, give this as an 
 adequate definition or account of the idea of cause, but only sug- 
 gest it as a probable occasion of originally exciting the idea in. 
 our minds. 
 
14 
 
 take place, there must be something in it which was not 
 necessary. Infinity must be equally predicable of the 
 same being; for how should it be limited when nothing 
 previous existed to bound it ? or how should necessary 
 existence be confined to a circumscribed space? The 
 unity of the divine nature is no less a certain conse- 
 quence of this principle. Two equally necessary and 
 infinite beings could serve no useful purpose that could 
 not be fulfilled by one. — There being no reason, there- 
 fore, for the existence of a second, the idea, on all the 
 rules of reasoning in sound philosophy, ought to be 
 rejected. Besides, two beings equally infinite, must oc- 
 cupy the same space,* — being equally the cause of all 
 things which exist, they must possess the same perfec- 
 tion; they must be, to every purpose of existence, the 
 same being. This first and sole cause of all things in the 
 universe must also be almighty ; for whatever can exist, 
 can exist only by him. And, finally, he must be all-wise, 
 as knowing the natures and powers of all things possible, 
 for nothing is possible but by him, and every thing is 
 possible that he wills. 
 
 This is a very brief and partial sketch of the scientific 
 mode of reasoning, or reasoning a 'priori on this subject. 
 The most profound and masterly example of it which 
 
 * See three letters of Dr Clarke on the relations of the 
 Deity to space, and duration. 
 
15 
 
 exists perhaps in any language, you will find in Dr 
 Samuel Clarke's demonstration of the being and attri- 
 butes of God. But I confess these subtle arguments of a 
 rery refined speculation, are little calculated to produce 
 any profound and permanent eonviction on the mind. 
 The extreme abstraction of the ideas, although they do 
 great credit to the ingenuity of that celebrated author, 
 can be comprehended only by a few reflecting men ; and 
 the most speculative philosopher finds the effort to grasp 
 them tend very much to exhaust the sensibility of the 
 heart, and weaken their practical impression. 
 
 The second, or popular mode of reasoning, from the 
 effect to the cause, is more simple and obvious. It is a 
 species of argumentation which naturally offers itself to 
 every man as soon as he opens his eyes upon the face of 
 the world. It is a kind of evidence that reaches the 
 simplest understanding, and becomes more luminous and 
 interesting in proportion as Ave extend our observation 
 and enquiries into the system of nature. When we 
 behold its order, variety and beauty, the proportion and 
 correspondence of all its parts, the evident demonstra- 
 tions of wisdom and design, especially in the animal and 
 vegetable worlds, in the structure of the earth, in the 
 planetary system, and, as far as we can judge, through- 
 out the universe, can we forbear to acknowledge a wise 
 and intelligent cause which has planned and arranged 
 
16 
 
 the whole ? an omnipotent cause which has given exist- 
 ence to this immense and various structure ? and an in- 
 finite providence which every where presides over its 
 operations? The details of this argument are too ex- 
 tensive to he minutely pursued in such an elementary 
 system of morals as that in which we are at present 
 engaged. They are, perhaps, not necessary to convince 
 you of that first of truths of which you are already 
 deeply persuaded, and that meets you at every glance 
 which you cast over the surface of nature. Yet, in your 
 private studies, I cannot too strongly recommend it to 
 you diligently to pursue your researches into the natural 
 history of the universe, expressly with this view to 
 assemble before the mind the multiplied evidence which 
 it contains in every part, of the existence, and universal 
 operation of a most wise, beneficent, and almighty 
 power which pervades, and presides over the whole. The 
 beauty, variety, and interesting nature of the study will 
 abundantly reward your pains. But it will further be 
 productive of a double advantage ; in the first place, by 
 giving additional confirmation to a principle of the high- 
 est importance to individual virtue, and to the happiness 
 of society, which many occasions in the intercourse of 
 life, the momentary prevalence of irregular passions* 
 and at length even the fallacious subtlety of sceptical 
 speculation, might frequently tend to impair : and in the 
 
17 
 
 next place by producing a more profound and habitual 
 impression of that truth on the heart. We may live in 
 the midst of the most demonstrative evidences of it, 
 while, at the same time, the attention of the mind may, 
 from a variety of causes, be little attracted to its con- 
 sideration. The evidence which now and then glances 
 on the understanding, may not be affected by any doubt ; 
 but it is too superficial and transient to make any useful 
 impression. It is only when it is often presented to view 
 when the thoughts are frequently recalled to its con- 
 sideration, when they ruminate upon it, that it becomes 
 mixed and blended with the habitual contemplations of 
 the mind, and the deep persuasion is lodged there as a 
 constant spring of pure and rational devotion, and the 
 most powerful motive of virtuous action. It is with this 
 intention that I would recommend to you an extensive 
 study of natural history as the surest basis, when pru- 
 dently investigated, of natural theology. It is a study, 
 likewise, which peculiarly contributes to purify, exalt, 
 and delight the mind ,* and along with the charming en- 
 thusiasm of piety, to strengthen the most solid founda- 
 tions of virtue, while, to use an expression of Malbranchc, 
 " it sees all things in God, and God in all things." Or 
 in the more beautiful and picturesque language of the 
 English poet — while in every part of nature it continu- 
 ally contemplates him 
 
 vol. ii. G 
 
IS 
 
 Who chang'd thro' all, is yet in all the same, 
 Great in the earth as in th' ethereal frame, 
 Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
 Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; 
 Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent, 
 Spreads undivided, operates unspent. 
 
 Pope's Essay on Man, e/i. 1. 1. 267 — 274. 
 
 This argument is admirably illustrated by the famous 
 Genevan philosopher Bonnet, and bv those very respecta- 
 ble English writers Derham and Ray. But, perhaps, no 
 author has treated it with more closeness, perspicuity, 
 and irresistible evidence than Dr Paley in his treatise on 
 natural theology. You see there that mechanical con- 
 trivance, that correspondence of parts, that adaptation of 
 means to their respective ends through all the works of 
 nature, which are the most unequivocal indications of 
 wisdom and design, as well as of power and goodness in 
 its author. i( Final causes, says a very judicious writer, 
 may be considered as the language in which the existence 
 of God is revealed to man. In this language the sign is 
 natural, and the interpretation instinctive."* 
 
 Another argument to the same end which may be con- 
 sidered, either as different in its nature from the preced- 
 ing, or as only shewing in a new r and strong light its evi- 
 dence and certainty, is derived from the universal con 
 
 * Ferguson's institutes, part 3d. chap. 1, sect. 2d. 
 
19 
 
 eurrence of all nations in this important principle, the 
 existence of God. 
 
 The general sentiments of mankind point to truth. 
 They are commonly intuitive, or necessary conceptions 
 arising immediately from the bare inspection of nature ; 
 or forcing their evidence upon the mind, like the first 
 truths of science, simply by the comparison of our own 
 ideas. The concurrence of all nations, therefore, in the 
 belief of the being of God is a proof either, that it is a 
 native sentiment of the human heart resulting from the 
 constitution of our nature, resting on the same foundation, 
 and entitled to the same credit with any other of our in- 
 ternal sensations ; — or, that it is a conclusion so clearly 
 and necessarily flowing from the appearances of nature as 
 to be obvious equally to the wisest and most uncultivated 
 mind ; the rapidity of the induction giving it the appear- 
 ance of an instinctive principle. 
 
 To this proof it is not a sufficient objection, that many- 
 nations have acknowledged a multiplicity of gods, and 
 that, in all nations, the multitude have entertained un- 
 worthy conceptions of the divine nature The natural 
 
 sentiments of the human mind may be corrupted ; or, 
 being left in their original and uncultivated state, may be 
 liable to many errors through ignorance. The principles 
 of taste, notwithstanding their acknowledged foundation 
 
20 
 
 in nature, may, in the same manner, be perverted by de- 
 fective or erroneous culture ; yet their error, or corrup- 
 tion, instead of demonstrating that there are no such prin- 
 ciples, is, on the other hand, a proof of their existence. 
 Many nations, misled by the analogy of human govern- 
 ments, conceiving that the divine administration might be 
 conducted by subordinate agents, by a very natural in- 
 firmity of the human mind, elevated each local and ima- 
 ginary divinity to the throne of divine worship. But all 
 mankind have ever acknowledged one Supreme Deity : 
 and the multitude of subordinate officers, if they may be 
 called such, which error has attached to him in his gov- 
 ernment, does not destroy the evidence of the principal 
 and original sentiment, that God exists. Our object at 
 present is to establish this single truth. And this truth is 
 not impaired by diversity of opinion with regard to the 
 mode of hi? administration, or the nature of his perfec- 
 tions. These ideas requiring greater precision of thought, 
 and greater compass of reasoning, one man, or one nation, 
 according to the advances they have made in the cultiva- 
 tion of science, may reasonably be supposed to have 
 formed more just, or more inadequate conceptions of 
 them, than another. 
 
 The truth of the divine existence is confirmed, if such 
 primary and palpable truths can receive additional con- 
 firmation, by the absurdity of the causes to which atheists 
 
21 
 
 Lave been obliged to resort in order to account for the 
 origin of things. One of their first principles is that 
 matter is eternal, and though senseless and inert, contains 
 the essence of all order and motion. Another, that the in- 
 telligence which evidently reigns in the universe, is the 
 result of material organization. And another still, not 
 less extraordinary than either of the preceding, that, from 
 the accidental collision of atoms, have been formed 
 globes that, from some interior impulse, have thrown 
 themselves into orbits constructed with the most perfect 
 mathematical exactness, and governed by laws which en- 
 sure undeviating constancy to their movements. From 
 the same accidental collision roots and seeds have been 
 generated, whence the whole vegetable world has been 
 evolved, and yearly reproduced. At this age of philoso- 
 phy, one would think that such principles must carry 
 their own refutation in the very terms of their statement. 
 Look on any mass, or congeries of matter, and let the 
 plainest, or most ingenious understanding decide if any 
 arrangement of its atoms, according to any known laws of 
 material action, could sublimate it, above all could enable 
 it to sublimate itself into sensation and reason? Or is it 
 possible that, if one lucky cast or collision among in Unite 
 milions, should have formed an animal or vegetable, it 
 should have been so framed as to be capable of throwing 
 from itself continually a similar assemblage of organized 
 
atoms, "while not another extraneous cast of the same kind 
 should ever succeed in forming a new body ? 
 
 But if an atheist ask us why, since we admit the ex- 
 istence of a wise intelligent cause only to exclude disor- 
 der and chance from the world, are there so many un- 
 seemly examples of both in the essential structure of 
 things, and in the revolutions of what we call providence ? 
 It is, as I conceive, a sufficient answer, to deny the ex- 
 istence of either, and to challenge an antagonist to pro- 
 duce his instance. — For what is chance ? Only a name 
 to cover our ignorance of the cause of any event. Nothing 
 can happen by accident in the government of an infinitely 
 wise being. All events depend upon a certain concatena- 
 tion of causes. The cast of a die is as certainly governed 
 by the laws of matter and motion as the greater move- 
 ments of the planets. What is disorder in the works of 
 nature ? A name which our weakness and imperfection 
 presumptuously imputes to the wisest designs of Heaven. 
 To judge perfectly of the order and regularity of the 
 universe we ought to be acquainted with the structure of 
 the whole system, and the particular end of every move- 
 ment. Without this knowledge, imaginary irregularities 
 will ever exist ; but they will exist only in the imperfec- 
 tion of our own understanding. To the eye of ignorance 
 what is beyond its own ken will look like confusion. — 
 This is certain with regard to the works of nature, that 
 
2.3 
 
 in proportion as her laws have been more clearly de- 
 veloped, and her operations more distinctly understood, 
 many of those phenomena which formerly were esteemed 
 to he irregularities are now discovered to be governed by 
 the most wise, certain, and permanent laws. Even those 
 stellar deviations, which were once thought to indicate 
 the mutual approach of their spheres, and to point to 
 some period of ultimate destruction, have been discovered 
 by an illustrious astromomer* to have a relation to one 
 or more great centers of motion indicated by their ap- 
 proximations, and recessions, by which according to the 
 unvarying laws of central forces, they only the more cer- 
 tainly provide for the perpetuity of the universe.— One 
 conclusion will obtrude itself on every reflecting mind: 
 that, since the greatest portion of the works of nature, 
 contain, even to our imperfect reason, the most obvious 
 indications of intelligence, design, and goodness, if there 
 are any parts which we are unable to interpret in perfect 
 coincidence with the general system, this ought to be as- 
 cribed solely to the narrow sphere to which our intellec- 
 tual vision is circumscribed. If a plain but intelligent 
 man were admitted to the magazine of a skilful mechani- 
 cian in which he was witness to the most admirable proofs 
 of the artist's intelligence and skill, what could he con- 
 clude on inspecting a more complicated machine the in- 
 
 * La Place. 
 
2i 
 
 tricaey of which he could not possibly comprehend, but 
 that the seeming confusion which appeared to his senses, 
 was attributable only to the imperfection of his own ideas ? 
 He could not doubt but that the same wisdom pervaded all 
 the works of the same author. 
 
 It has been frequently and justly remarked that the 
 universe is governed by general and constant laws which 
 never change their operation according to the desires of 
 men. or the convenience of particular parts of the system, 
 which sometimes appear to be productive of accidental 
 and partial ills. A tempest here, a drought there, a con- 
 tagion, or an earthquake, may involve individuals in dis- 
 tress — but the fixed and unvarying laws of the physical 
 world are among the greatest blessings to mankind. 
 Among other benefits, they lay a foundation for the ex- 
 istence of the most useful sciences, which could have no 
 principles on which to rest in a providence of expedients 
 and accommodations to individual convenience. They 
 serve to awaken enquiry, to exercise ingenuity, to encour- 
 age industry, to afford principles on which to ground a 
 prudent foresight and precaution, and to promote the ex- 
 ercise of all the virtues which are assisted by the stability 
 of nature. For a clear and luminous illustration of the 
 utility of general laws, and for a judicious explanation and 
 justification of the apparent and partial ills which result 
 
25 
 
 from them, you will again have peculiar satisfaction in 
 consulting Dr Paley's work on natural theology. 
 
 I proceed next to consider the attributes of the Deity 
 more distinctly, or separately. 
 
 The divine attributes will not require an extensive il- 
 lustration ; for, when once his existence is acknowledged, 
 they recommend themselves so obviously to the common 
 sense of mankind as hardly to admit of any controversy : 
 except with regard to those natural events which, in their 
 first aspect, seem contrary to our apprehensions of his in- 
 finite goodness. These will of course require some addi- 
 tional considerations, after having proposed a general 
 theory of the perfections of the Supreme Mind, to solve 
 the difficulties which may occur on this subject to the re- 
 flections of a pious theist. 
 
 The attributes of God, then, may be arranged under 
 two heads — the natural and the moral. — In the former are 
 comprehended his spirituality, unity, eternity, omnipres- 
 ence, power, and wisdom $— under the latter, his holiness, 
 justice and goodness. 
 
 The spirituality of the divine nature, is a property 
 
 opposed to every form and refinement of matter ; and 
 
 may be regarded as distinguishing the essence of the 
 
 Supreme Mind from that fine but powerful influence, the 
 tol. ii. » 
 
26 
 
 result of the material organization of the universe, which 
 some philosophers have substituted in the room of Deity, 
 and made the cause of a universal necessity, or fate. It 
 is opposed, likewise, to the opinion of those who have 
 held the Deity to be the soul of the world ; that is, a 
 certain power, which, although intelligent, is still only a 
 refinement of matter, a kind of spirit, or gas thrown off 
 from the infinite system of its motions, or its original 
 fermentations. 
 
 All just philosophy has considered matter as essential- 
 ly inert, and incapable of beginning motion. Spirit, as 
 we learn from our own experience, possesses a self- 
 motive power, and the power of giving motion to other 
 things. The existence, therefore, and the movements of 
 the universe, are proofs of an original spirit who formed 
 it, and gave it that impulse, and that system of combined 
 motion by which its order is still preserved. 
 
 The only knowledge which we have of spirit is de- 
 rived from reflection on our own minds, the essence of 
 which we conceive to lie in thought, and volition. But 
 it would be impious to imagine that we can thence form 
 any adequate conception of the Divine and Infinite Spirit 
 from whom all things proceed. By this term, therefore, 
 applied to the Deity we can mean only to express a sub- 
 
27 
 
 stance wholly different from matter, simple, uncon> 
 pounded, essentially active, and intelligent. 
 
 The unity of the Divine Nature is deducihle from this 
 reflection, that we see evident proofs of the existence of 
 one God, and we see no evidence of more than one. It is 
 contrary, therefore, to every principle of just reasoning 
 to admit a plurality. This conclusion is strengthened by 
 that unity of design apparent in all the parts of nature. 
 It indicates one author, one purpose, one end. How far 
 he may commit the government of particular districts of 
 the universe to subordinate agents, in order to employ 
 their activity, and exercise their virtues, we have no 
 grounds on which we can form a rational judgment. 
 Even conjecture, therefore, ought to be silent concern- 
 ing it, lest we should unawares awaken a degrading 
 spirit of superstition. On subjects so remote from the 
 sphere of human intellect and observation, in no depart- 
 ment of science has conjecture or hypothesis ever led 
 philosophy one step nearer to truth. It is even doubtful 
 if the erring lights of false science do not lead the mind 
 farther astray than the torpid dulness of absolute 
 ignorance. 
 
 Of the almighty power, and infinite wisdom of tlie 
 Deity there can exist no Aubt in the minds of those 
 who acknowledge his being. No more can we doubt of 
 
2S 
 
 his eternal existence, and his universal presence, al- 
 though we are not able to form distinct and definite ideas 
 concerning his relations to infinite duration and space. 
 I shall, therefore, not consume your time in attempting 
 to solve the many abstruse, and probably useless, and, to 
 human intellect, inexplicable questions, which have been 
 raised on these subjects by ingenious men : but pro- 
 ceed to consider his moral attributes, holiness, goodness 
 and justice. 
 
 Holiness is a term used chiefly by divines, and bor- 
 rowed from the sacred scriptures, to express the purity 
 of the divine nature, and its infinite distance from all 
 moral imperfection. It is perhaps the best and strongest 
 word in our language to convey the idea of his unchange- 
 able love of the eternal and essential rectitude of that 
 moral law which he has prescribed to his rational 
 creatures, whose outlines he has traced upon the human 
 conscience, but the perfect rule of which is to be found 
 only in his revealed word. And it seems further to carry 
 in its meaning, not only a pure and immutable love of 
 rectitude, but an infinite abhorrence of vice ; that is, of 
 the omission or violation of the duties of the moral law. 
 But, besides this peculiar meaning of the term as ex- 
 pressing a single attribute of the Divine Mind, it is 
 often used in a more comprenensive sense, to express the 
 
29 
 
 aggregate, and the most complete idea of all bis moral 
 perfections. 
 
 By the attribute of goodness is meant to be expressed 
 the disposition, or tendency of the divine nature to im- 
 part happiness to the creatures he lias formed, in a way 
 accommodated to their respective states of being. This 
 attribute we ascribe to the Deity from the tendencies 
 to benevolent affection which he has implanted in the 
 human breast; — and from that order, harmony, and 
 beauty which exist in the whole structure of the uni- 
 verse, and which so naturally and strongly associate 
 themselves with the ideas of beneficence in their author, 
 by the happiness they create in those who contemplate 
 them. It is farther confirmed by the existence of so 
 many tribes of creatures capable in a high degree of 
 pleasurable sensation, and actually enjoying it in different 
 ways. All these facts contribute to impress an irresisti- 
 ble conviction of the benevolence of the Creator. Whea 
 we contemplate an individual animal, what an immense 
 complexity of parts do we observe combined in one 
 system, all contributing to the preservation and enjoy- 
 ment of the creature, which manifestly indicate the will 
 and intention of the author; and shew the pains and con- 
 trivance, if these terms may be applied to the Deity, which 
 he has used to render that animal comfortable and happy. 
 But, when we behold creation filled with innumerable 
 
so 
 
 species of being, and, under each species, innumerable in* 
 dividuals, down to the minutest insect tribes, in which we 
 severally discern the same multiplicity of organs, and 
 the same systematic combination, and subserviency to 
 the purposes of enjoyment, how does the evidence of the 
 divine benignity and goodness rise in our view ! The air, 
 the earth, the sea are full of animated and happy beings. 
 Men often overlook these examples of benevolent design, 
 sometimes from not perceiving the immediate utility of 
 the creatures in the system of creation, and sometimes 
 from their extreme minuteness. But the minutest insect 
 is equally with the largest or most rational animal, 
 susceptible of the most exquisite sensations of happy 
 existence. And in the eye of the infinite being, 
 
 Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, 
 A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, 
 
 there is much less difference between an insect, and a 
 man, than our vanity inclines us to conceive. 
 
 It is well remarked, by many ingenious writers, that 
 the beniguity of the Deity is visible not only in the 
 structure of the animal system subserving so admirably 
 the purposes of preservation, comfort, and defence; but 
 in annexing such pleasant sensations, beyond what mere 
 necessity would have required, to the exercise of the 
 different faculties and powers of animal nature. Hunger 
 
31 
 
 alone might have prompted it to eat, an operation which 
 would have been sufficient for the sustenance of life. 
 But the Creator has added to its food a relish, which 
 seems to have had no other purpose but to increase the 
 pleasure of existence. The objects around us in the 
 structure of the world might have been applied to all 
 the purposes of utility, although they had not possessed 
 that beauty, fragance, or harmony, which afford such 
 superlative charms to the senses, and the imagination. 
 There certainly never could have existed such exquisite 
 adaptations of objects to the senses, and of the senses to 
 their objects, if the Creator had not intended them for 
 the ends of animal, and especially of human felicity. 
 Not to mention in man his superior powers of moral, 
 intellectual and social enjoyment, which open a much 
 wider and nobler field of happiness if we had leisure to 
 survey it. 
 
 But it is not so necessary to prove the reality of the 
 divine goodness, which is borne in so many examples on 
 the whole face of nature, as to account for some ap- 
 pearances, and to remove some objections which have 
 been thought to contradict it in the order of divine provi- 
 dence. These consist in the numerous evils which are 
 evidently mingled with good in the economy of the 
 world. 
 
•32 
 
 The preponderance of good over evil In the general 
 order of things, is acknowledged to be manifest and great. 
 But the objectors reply, that if God were perfectly 
 benevolent, and, at the same time, omnipotent, lie would 
 not have permitted the existence of partial evil. This 
 is pronouncing on an infinite system from our own con- 
 tracted views.-— Can we say that, in a universe, benevo- 
 lently constructed, there ought to be no gradation of 
 being? Or, if gradation be admitted in perfect con- 
 sistency with the infinite benignity of the Creator, is it 
 not conceivable that a creature of superior powers of 
 intelligence and enjoyment, may, by a certain admixture 
 of pain, be brought in the scale of happiness to the grade 
 of one of inferior powers, but exempt from suffering, 
 and who shall have no complaint to prefer against the 
 benevolence of providence ? The reflection may apply to 
 a nation, to a species of being, to a world. How far 
 superior, then, may this world be, with all its sufferings, 
 to other systems which may have no such evils to allay 
 a happiness which, however, may be regulated on an 
 inferior standard of sensibility, or of intellect ! Would a 
 man of high sensibilities, or of high intellectual powers, 
 though they may often be the occasion of many errors, 
 or of keen anguish, be willing to forego their pleas- 
 ures, in order that he might be reduced to an apathy 
 that would render hira insensible to suffering? Let us 
 
33 
 
 balance our goods against our evils, therefore our suf- 
 ferings against our enjoyments, and consider ourselves 
 as completely happy in that grade of felicity that is 
 marked jby the surplus of the one above the other. By 
 such a calculation, how might mankind extinguish every 
 complaint of the evils of life, and justify perfectly the 
 benignity of the Creator ? The conclusion, therefore, 
 which each individual ought to frame with respect to 
 himself, a true philosopher may justly infer for the 
 whole species; unless any man should be so foolish as to 
 imagine that existence alone gives him a claim on the 
 beneficence of his Maker for the highest grade of 
 felicity. 
 
 But why, it may be asked, should we be left to 
 estimate our grade in the scale of being by the surplus- 
 age of happiness above pain? Or, why should pain exist 
 at all in the system of a benevolent being? — Satisfac- 
 torily to answer these and a thousand other enquiries 
 that might be instituted on this subject would probably 
 require a knowledge of the nature, and the infinite rela- 
 tions of the universe, which none but the Deity himself 
 can possess. We can, therefore, expect only from reve- 
 lation the information which we desire, as far as be is 
 pleased to impart it. But while we are compelled to 
 
 resort to the feeble lights of our own reason alone fop 
 vot. ii. t; 
 
h solution of the difficulties which spring out of the 
 combinations of an infinite system, Me must be contented 
 with such probabilities only as it can yield us.* — If, in 
 the scale of existence, then, there be a place for such a 
 being as man, with just such a measure of intellect, and 
 sensibility, and with just such principles of action, con- 
 tinually requiring excitement and correction ; and es- 
 pecially, if it be conceived that he is placed in the present 
 world, in a state of probation and discipline for a future 
 period, and a higher condition of existence, a supposition 
 which to philosophy is as probable, as to religion it is 
 certain, may not all the pains which enter into the moral 
 culture of tbis life, be regarded as the discipline of a wise 
 and gracious parent, and, therefore, as essential parts of 
 a most benevolent system ? Let us contemplate the rela- 
 tion which the pains necessarily incident to human nature, 
 as it is now constituted, have to the improvement of its 
 powers, and consequently to its happiness — The wants 
 of man contribute to rouse that industry, and habitual 
 
 * Rejoicing, however, that when we have explored reason 
 to the utmost, we, as christians, still enjoy the superior illumina- 
 tion of the sacred scriptures, whence, if we cannot derive such 
 lights as will satisfy every enquiry of an ambitious curiosity, 
 we may, at least, draw competent satisfaction for a humble and 
 rational piety ; particularly with regard to this great question, 
 why human nature exists in its present state of imperfection, 
 requiring the corrections, and discipline of the pains and suf- 
 ferings which we see attached to it ? 
 
35 
 
 exertion of all his faculties of body and of mind, on 
 which their vigor and perfection principally depend. 
 A paradise where all his wants should be spontaneously 
 supplied from the abundance of the soil, and all his 
 senses gratilied by its fragrance, its beauty and luxuriant 
 sweets, would deteriorate the human character, and sink 
 the noblest creature in the world into a lazy, torpid, and 
 vicious animal. The happiness, no less than the improve- 
 ment of our nature, lies chiefly in constant and useful 
 employment, stimulated by these necessary wants. En- 
 joyment seldom yields pleasures equal to those which 
 arise out of the activity requisite to procure it. The 
 very efforts excited by pain and want, or by the appre- 
 hension of them, often produce a satisfaction, or diver- 
 sion to the mind which far overbalance their evils. Want 
 whets ingenuity ; danger ar*d suffering call into operation 
 the virtues of courage and fortitude, that communicate a 
 character of grandeur and nobleness to the mind which 
 often raises it superior to the ills of life. And labor, 
 however it might be the curse of man fallen from the 
 perfection of a superior nature, is beyond a doubt the 
 blessing of his present existence. Reflections of a similar 
 nature might arise from an attentive consideration of 
 every particular evil to which human life is exposed. *v 
 
 And, iu a moral point of view, how much more justly 
 may we regard them as a part of the benevolent disci- 
 
S6 
 
 pline of our heavenly Father ? They are correctors of the 
 passions — they assist the habits of reflection, — and often 
 recal the mind from pursuits injurious to its virtue and 
 its true interests. 
 
 But, instead of examining in detail the various evils of 
 life, and shewing how the goodness of God is affected in 
 permitting their existence, I shall select only a few ; be- 
 lieving that, if, in these, the benevolence of the divine ad- 
 ministration can be justified even to our limited under- 
 standing, a hint may be suggested, or a clue given by 
 which its vindication may be pursued in other cases. — 
 Take for examples, the circumstances attending the man- 
 ner of our entrance into the world, and of our departure 
 from it, which have been thought to involve serious ob- 
 jections against the benignity of the Creator. With re- 
 gard to the former it may be fairly maintained, that the 
 pains of bearing, nursing, and educating children, with 
 the diseases and dangers of infancy, which seem, at first 
 view, to be peculiar afflictions on the human race, will be 
 found, on examining their connexions and all their rela- 
 tions, to be among the chief causes of the existence of 
 society, and the felicity of social life. If children, like 
 the young of other animals, were able to run as soon as 
 born, and to feed themselves, with almost no dependence 
 on the care of a parent, the powerful ties, and sweet en- 
 dearments of parental affection, and of filial duty, would 
 
37 
 
 be unknown. The union and happiness of domestic soci- 
 ety would be dissolved ; and civil society, of which the 
 domestic is the germ and the principal support, could not 
 exist. Man would be a solitary and ferocious savage. 
 The facility of rearing children, and their independence 
 on a parent's care, would give the strongest encourage- 
 ment to a vagrant and licentious concubinage, destructive 
 of all the virtues, and of the dearest interests of human 
 nature. Besides, the diseases of pregnancy, as human 
 nature is now constituted, and the pains and dangers of 
 child-birth, serve to endear the parents to each other, by 
 the weakness, tenderness, and dependence of the mother ; 
 by the honor, generosity, and sympathy of the father ; 
 and an hundred fold to endear the child to the parent. 
 And it is an acknowledged principle in human nature, 
 that the troubles and continual solicitudes of nursing and 
 education, together with the necessary diseases and haz- 
 ards of infancy, greatly augment the strength of parental 
 attachment, and lay the most firm and lasting foundations 
 of the unions, subordinations, and harmonious affections, 
 first of domestic, and afterwards of civil society. In these 
 pains, then, which have been selected as specious objec- 
 tions against the benignity of the divine administration 
 of the government of this world, we find some of the 
 principal sources of human happiness. 
 
38 
 
 As to the manner of terminating the present state of 
 existence by death, the necessity of it arises out of the 
 structure of our nature. Death is the only way of giving 
 to successive generations the means of existence. If this 
 part of the plan of divine providence must be changed, 
 the whole order of life must necessarily be changed with 
 it. There could be no such creature as man in the scale 
 of being. The institution of the sexes must be destroyed 
 — the multiplication of the race must cease. The modes 
 of subsistence on the products of the earth, which can 
 sustain only a definite number, must be done away; and 
 with these, as the whole state of human life is connected 
 together by a close unbroken chain, must cease the ope- 
 rations of agriculture, the interchanges of commerce, and 
 the entire system of the present occupations and pursuits 
 of men. Man himself would be the first to object to such 
 a new order of things. — If death, then, be a necessary 
 part of the human economy, and to man himself it would 
 be undesirable to change it, if it must be accompanied 
 with so many other changes, still more unfriendly to the 
 wishes and the comfort of mankind, the only question that 
 remains, is, in what manner it may be best accomplished 
 so as to attain the most useful ends of its institution ?~— 
 Even if the whole of human existence were to be termi- 
 nated by death, this last act of our being, so justly formi- 
 dable to our frailty and imperfection, is but a momentary 
 
39 
 
 pang, which has been far overpaid by the pleasures of 
 life ', but if, as religion assures us, and philosophy ren- 
 ders probable, this life is only a period of discipline and 
 probation for another state of being, and death is the 
 avenue through which we must pass to it, certainly no 
 method of approaching that decisive crisis could be 
 imagined more beneficial than that which exists of at- 
 taining every good moral end connected with it — of making 
 the descent to the grave easy to the virtuous — of im- 
 pressing a salutary but not oppressive fear on all, as a 
 useful restraint from vice — of preserving the mind, by its 
 extreme uncertainty, always vigilant and attentive to the 
 discharge of every duty, which is the best preparation for 
 a tranquil exit from life — and finally, of inducing it to 
 hold its present pleasures in a continual state of obedient 
 resignation to the will of God, in the hope of exchanging 
 them for such as are higher and more perfect. 
 
 To pursue the vindication of the divine goodness in the 
 introduction of other physical evils into his general ad- 
 ministration of the government of the world, would to 
 you, I trust, be unnecessary.* Of the moral evils which 
 
 * On the physical evils incident to the animal creation, and 
 particularly on that order of natui'e which has destined the 
 weaker part as the prey of the more powerful, see many judi- 
 cious reflections in Dr Paley's natural theology near the con- 
 clusion. 
 
40 
 
 affiict the world, their origin, and their cure ; and how 
 they are made to illustrate the benignity and mercy of 
 God to mankind, the only true, and satisfactory account 
 is to be derived from revelation. They arise from an 
 abuse of the passions, and of the moral liberty of man ; 
 but reason would be deplorably at a loss to find her way 
 in the maze of doubts, and perplexities, which attend 
 their existence in the system of a benignant Deity, if 
 revelation did not put a filament in her hand, or extend 
 a taper before her footsteps to conduct her through the 
 labyrinth. This belongs to the theological chair. 
 
 The only attribute which remains to be considered is 
 that of justice. It is an invariable determination in the 
 Divine Mind to render to all his creatures according to 
 their works; — to the virtuous, reward, — to the vicious, 
 punishment. This attribute we ascribe to God, from the 
 dictates of conscience, and the sentiments of justice in 
 our own breasts. — As philosophy delights to trace the 
 most complicated effects, to the simplest principles, 
 justice may, perhaps, be considered as only one expres- 
 sion of infinite benevolence, in which, by proper cor- 
 rectives, and restraints and examples, the injurious 
 effects of the passions may be prevented, and individuals 
 deterred from seeking their own enjoyments, by the 
 sacrifice of a greater good in violating the general laws 
 of order and happiness. 
 
41 
 
 Justice has, by divines, been distinguished into two 
 kinds, — distributive, and vindictive. The former has 
 been already defined, and may be applied for the re- 
 formation as well as punishment of the offender; the 
 latter is conceived to be the infliction of punishment on 
 vice simply for its own intrinsic demerit, without respect 
 to reformation, or any ulterior regard to a farther good 
 end, except the general good of the universe. Conscience, 
 in the nature of its reprehensions, makes us perceive 
 that guilt deserves such infliction; and in its anticipa- 
 tions, in consequence of some atrocious acts of iniquity, 
 often leads the criminal despairingly to fear it. These 
 facts appear to indicate that the distinction has a real 
 foundation in nature. And in these apprehensions, pro- 
 bably, we discern the source of those bloody rites of 
 superstition which, on so many pagan altars, have 
 dishonored the name of religion. 
 
 On this subject a theological question has been raised 
 of great importance to religion, whether in consistency 
 with the holiness and justice of the divine nature, the 
 violation of the moral law, by any creature, be pardon- 
 able without a complete atonement, or full execution of 
 its penalty? If justice bean essential attribute of God, 
 and its claims be as necessary as his existence, the for- 
 giveness of an offender can never be a gratuitous exer- 
 
 vol. ii. F 
 
42 
 
 tion of mere mercy. From this principle results an in- 
 ference which is deeply laid at the foundation of the 
 christian religion; the necessity of complete atonement 
 to the violated law, and vindication of the offended per- 
 fections of God, in the person of a mediator perfectly 
 adequate to render this satisfaction, in order to the 
 exercise of mercy and forgiveness to the human sinner. 
 — But the discussion and determination of this question 
 also, 1 refer to the decision of another chair. 
 
43 
 
 LECTURE XVI. 
 
 OF THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUI. 
 
 The only certain evidence of this truth to be derived from 
 revelation — Reason can accumulate a variety of proba- 
 ble arguments to support her hope. — Many faculties in 
 human nature which would perish without attaining 
 their perfection unless there were a future state in 
 which they should be unfolded. — The immortality of 
 the soul an article of universal belief in all ages.—* 
 This not the effect of artifice and intrigue, but of an 
 original principle in human nature.— Not sujjicient 
 objection against the universality of this principle that 
 some philosophers have been found who have denied it 9 
 and some nations tvho have blended it with many errors* 
 <— Another argument found in the desires and hopes of 
 good men, and the fears of the vicious, especially at the 
 approach of death. — The effect of the disbelief of this 
 doctrine on the public morals — The unequal distribu- 
 tion of providence in this life.— The nature of our 
 future existence. 
 
 IT is not sufficient that we lay a foundation for the 
 knowledge of the theory of virtue in the knowledge of 
 the general principles of human nature, unless we can, 
 
at the same time, propose motives to its practice that by 
 their grandeur and interest may be able to overcome 
 those temptations to the dereliction of our duty which 
 are continually springing up in the heart amidst the 
 errors of the passions, or assailing it under the masque 
 of the pleasures of the world. With this view I have 
 already offered to your consideration the evidences of the 
 being and attributes of God, from whom emanates the 
 law of virtue, and that structure of things in our nature 
 and in the universe, which indicates the law to our 
 reason, that the authority of his command, the con- 
 sciousness of his presence, and the apprehension of his 
 judgment, might add to the inward sentiments of con- 
 science their most powerful sanction. With the same 
 view I shall now propose to you those general arguments 
 which we derive from reason for the immortality of the 
 soul. The authority of the law of virtue would be very 
 feebly felt by the greater part of mankind, if the ex- 
 pectations, or the apprehensions of existing after this 
 life were not shewn to rest on at least probable founda- 
 tions. W T e must confess, however, that probability is the 
 utmost which reason has been able to attain on this in- 
 teresting subject. We must look for that full and clear 
 persuasion on which the soul can repose with tranquil 
 assurance in the midst of affliction, and at the approach 
 of death, only in the sacred scriptures. But the human 
 
45 
 
 mind, in its anxious longings after immortality, is 
 inclined to make the most of those feeble lights which 
 reason holds out to encourage its hopes. And Cicero 
 could only say, but he says it with the enthusiasm 
 natural to a virtuous mind, that if he were deceived in 
 cherishing the hope of an immortal existence, he wished 
 not to be aioakcned from so agreeable a delusion. And 
 Socrates, in his last conversation with his friends, just 
 before drinking the fatal hemlock, thus took his leave 
 of them, — you go to your ordinary occupations, I to my 
 fate; which of us shall enjoy the happier lot is known 
 only to the gods. 
 
 The christian revelation has produced such a deep 
 and general persuasion of this doctrine in the minds of 
 its disciples, as has induced a common belief that the 
 evidence which reason yields in its support, is much 
 more direct and clear, than, on the most fair and candid 
 examination, it will be found to be. As it is imparted to 
 us by the author of our holy religion, it is closely and 
 inseparably connected with the doctrine of the resurrec- 
 tion of the body, of which his own rising from the dead 
 is the great example, and the proof. Its evidence, there- 
 fore, rests simply in the word and promise of the 
 Saviour. — There are, however, such strong and rational 
 probabilities, drawn both from the physical and moral 
 principles of our nature, as merit the most serious atten- 
 
46 
 
 tion of the philosopher, and independently of the authori- 
 ty of revelation, are calculated to administer the con- 
 solations of hope to a virtuous mind. The physical prin- 
 ciples on which we may be entitled to build any hope, 
 have been already stated in the sixth lecture of this 
 system. The moral reasons which may induce an assent 
 to the same truth, I proceed now to lay before you. 
 
 In the first place, then, if the present were the only 
 state of human existence, the designs of the Creator in 
 the formation of man would seem to be in a great measure 
 frustrated ; or they would not be conformable to the usual 
 operations of his wisdom. We would behold the noblest 
 being with which we are acquainted, just begin to evolve 
 faculties which are never permitted to reach their full 
 vigor, or to display their full beauty. Man is evidently 
 possessed of talents which are progressive to an indefinite 
 degree of improvement. Yet, no individual has ever car- 
 ried any one talent, and, much less, the whole system of 
 his natural powers, to the highest perfection of which 
 they are susceptible : and less still has the whole race 
 approached near to that ultimate point in the scale of 
 being to which they are manifestly capable of arriving, 
 and appear, in some period of their progress, to be des- 
 tined. To arrest them, then, in the midst, or rather in 
 the commencement of their career, when they are only 
 just beginning to display those capacities which they 
 
47 
 
 shall never fully unfold, seems hardly conformable to 
 our most reasonable ideas of divine benevolence and 
 wisdom. All other things which come under our cogni- 
 zance in this world, have a point of maturity, that is the 
 highest of which their natures are susceptible ; after ar- 
 riving at which they gradually decay. Other animals in- 
 crease to a certain degree of strength, and sagacity, 
 which is evidently the ultimate limit within which their 
 nature is restricted. Their several species appear to be 
 equal in all ages. There is a point below which they 
 hardly ever fall, and above which they cannot rise. It is 
 far otherwise with man. The greatest part of his powers 
 would be lost, and he would seem to have been made in 
 vain, if there were not another state of being in which 
 they may unfold themselves, and attain that perfection of 
 which they seem to be capable. Hardly, therefore, can 
 we conceive it to be consistent with the wisdom and good- 
 ness of God to bestow on man so many incipient talents to 
 be checked, or cut off in the very commencement of their 
 progress — germs that are never suffered to come to their 
 maturity. Moral and religious sentiments, in particular, 
 do not seem to have any reasonable object ; if we are to 
 regard ourselves as being only particles of animated dust, 
 destined to perish almost as soon as we begin to exist ; and 
 have not, beyond this life, the hope of some nearer ap- 
 proach to the Deity, and the expectation of some reward 
 
48 
 
 from him which shall depend on the purity of our pious 
 affections, and the integrity of our virtuous conduct in 
 this life. The sacrifices of virtue would be without re- 
 muneration 5 and the noblest dispositions of the heart, 
 cultivated with the most devout care, would be like in- 
 tense burnt, and scattered by the winds, before a being 
 who regards it not. 
 
 Another argument of no inconsiderable weight for the 
 doctrine of immortality is derived from the general Relief 
 of mankind. Such a universal concurrence o*' opinion in- 
 dicates some original principle of nature on which it rests; 
 which can only be the operation of God himself in the 
 human heart. It has formed an article of belief in all 
 religions. It has been laid at the foundation of all the po- 
 litical institutions of antiquity, as well as of modern ages. 
 And no nation has been discovered so rude and savage, 
 who has not, along with the idea of God, united that also 
 of the future existence of the soul. — Some philosophers 
 ascribe this interesting phenomenon to imitation, and the 
 influence of education. — Where principles have already a 
 real foundation in nature, education and imitation readily 
 concur to strengthen their influence. But when they are 
 entirely arbitrary, although one principle may take root, 
 and be propagated in one nation, and a different one in 
 another, yet when have we seen such uniformity in edu- 
 cation among all the inhabitants of the globe ? These 
 
49 
 
 reflections may be illustrated by a familiar example. 
 Filial duty, and respect for age, which are natural dic- 
 tates of the heart, have formed a part of the domestic 
 culture ol every people ; but the arbitrary practice of 
 making libations to the manes of departed ancestors, 
 could never be extended, by the same influence, beyond 
 the limits of the people who invented it. 
 
 It has been boldly asserted, but, I conceive, with even 
 less plausibility, that the doctrine has been introduced, 
 and obtained an influence in the world by the artifice of 
 priests, in order to establish their authority over the 
 multitude by the all-subduing charm of superstition ; or 
 by the craft of politicians, and the legislators of the early 
 ages, who found no better way to render their subjects 
 obedient, and confirm the authority of their laws, than by 
 the power of religious fear. — But, in answer to insinua- 
 tions of this kind, we may well ask when had a few priests 
 or politicians more cunning than all the rest of mankind ? 
 Whence did they derive that superiority of mind to which 
 the whole world has bowed with such implicit submis- 
 sion ? Or how have the ministers of religion, and the 
 legislators of all nations, entered into a league to pass 
 the same deceit upon the world ? Such concert among 
 men of the remotest regions, and of the most opposite 
 habits, opinions, and prejudices, is impossible ; and such 
 vol. ii. g 
 
so 
 
 facile and universal submission in the mass of mankind 
 to an arbitrary opinion, by whatever authority recom- 
 mended, is incredible. — But if it be true, in the next place, 
 that the order of human society cannot be perfectly 
 maintained without the belief of a state of future retribu- 
 tion, and that, therefore, the whole ingenuity of political 
 intrigue, and the whole force of political power, have 
 been employed to establish this sentiment among the 
 people, this is surely an argument of no inconsiderable 
 weight for the truth of the doctrine. Otherwise, man 
 must have been formed under the hard necessity of being 
 continually deceived, in order to promote his best in- 
 terests ; a consequence which we ought not to impute to 
 the infinite wisdom and goodness of the Creator. 
 
 The universality of this belief, therefore, ought, I 
 presume, to be ascribed to an original sentiment of our 
 nature ; or, at least, to a conclusion that so necessarily 
 obtrudes itself upon the mind from the united reflections 
 of reason, and sentiments of conscience, that it may justly 
 be classed along with our natural, and instinctive feelings. 
 — And I have before remarked, that these universal dic- 
 tates of the human mind resulting from the natural con- 
 stitution of man, may always be regarded as the opera- 
 tion of God, and, therefore, pointing to truth. For we 
 cannot eouceive how he should be willing to deceive hi* 
 
51 
 
 creatures, or that it should ever be necessary for him to 
 carry on their moral government by deception. 
 
 It is certainly no proper or sufficient objection against 
 the universality of this opinion, and consequently the 
 truth of the principle connected with it, that there have 
 existed philosophers who have denied it, or whole nations 
 who have blended with it many superstitious opinions.— 
 A minute philosophy, attempting to plunge too far into 
 the subtleties of speculation, is often much less to be de- 
 pended on as a guide to truth than the simplest dictates of 
 the uncultivated understanding. We have seen it, at dif- 
 ferent times, violate every conclusion, and pervert every 
 dictate of reason and common sense. We have seen it, in 
 the hands of the most acute metaphisicians, deny the ex- 
 istence of matter, though palpable to every sense : — we 
 have seen it deny the existence of mind, employing its 
 own ingenuity against itself: — and, we have seen it deny 
 both body and mind, substituting, in the room of both, 
 and of the whole substantial universe, a troop of light 
 ideal shadows which we can trace to no origin, and from 
 which results no consequence.* It is not surprizing, then, 
 if a few philosophers, in the pride of speculation, and the 
 vanity of affected singularity, should have added, to their 
 
 * It has been justly remarked that there is no opinion so exr 
 travagant 'which has not found some one to maintain it. 
 
52 
 
 other contradictions to the common opinions of mankind* 
 the denial of a future existence, and the immortality of the 
 soul. 
 
 The certainty of natural truth, in the next place, 
 ought not to be questioned or denied, on account of the 
 errors which either speculation, or superstition has 
 mingled with it. Nature, on many subjects, particularly 
 those relating to morals and duty, points to the general 
 principle, or gives the general impression of the truth, 
 but leaves it to reason, experience, and reflection, to give 
 it its perfect shape and form. This each man will do 
 with more or less accuracy and precision of idea, accord- 
 ing to the strength of his intellectual faculties, united 
 with his virtue, or according to the prepossessions, 
 customs, and habits of his education. From every one of 
 these causes a degree of error, particularly in a weak, 
 or superstitious mind, may be mingled with truth, with- 
 out, however, destroying its radical principle which is 
 found in some original dictate or instinct of nature. — Of 
 this an analogous example was furnished in the last 
 lecture. The instincts, or original sentiments of nature 
 lead with undoubting assurance to the acknowledgment of 
 the being of God ; but that important principle, ignorance 
 has impaired by admitting a plurality of gods, and super- 
 stition corrupted by imputing attributes to the divine na- 
 ture unworthy his perfections — Another example maybe 
 
f urnished in the seeds of taste, which are acknowledged to 
 have been implanted by nature ; but, through neglect we 
 may suffer them to shoot up wild ; or by improper culture, 
 their qualities may be vitiated. Yet, even the corruption 
 of a principle is a proof of its existence ; and the wildest 
 groAvth of plants shews that the seed is there, which re- 
 quires only a judicious cultivation to bring it to perfec- 
 tion. — The seeds of truth, therefore, of nature's planting, 
 we ought not to eradicate, and cast away, because hither- 
 to they may have grown wild, or because an unskilful 
 husbandry may have suffered tares to be mixed with 
 them ; but, like wise planters, set ourselves to give them 
 every advantage of culture requisite to advance them to 
 that state of improvement for which the great Author of 
 nature designed them. 
 
 The argument, therefore, for the immortality of the 
 soul, drawn from the natural feelings and expectations of 
 mankind, remains strong, notwithstanding the gloomy 
 speculations of sceptical philosophers, and the absurd ad- 
 mixtures of superstitious nations. 
 
 Another of the moral reasons on which we found our 
 belief of this doctrine is the strong desire, and the hope of 
 good men, and the apprehensions of the vicious ; which 
 are commonly found to increase in proportion as they 
 seem to be approaching the period of their earthly exist- 
 
5* 
 
 ence. The natural desire of immortality is certainly one 
 of the strongest affections of the human heart, at least 
 till the dominion of vicious passions have made it the in- 
 terest of the guilty to fear it. Of virtue it is the most 
 powerful motive, and the greatest consolation under the 
 various trials of life. And on the violent and criminal 
 passions of men there is hardly any restraint so effectual 
 as the apprehension of a future existence, and of the re- 
 tribution with which conscience always accompanies that 
 fear. The hopes and fears of human nature, therefore, 
 both concur to strengthen the probability of a renewed 
 existence after this life. If this lively anticipation of a 
 future being, in a happier state, be implanted in the hearts 
 of good men by God himself, can we believe that his in- 
 finite benignity hath created in them desires only to dis- 
 appoint them, and inspired them with hopes only to tan- 
 talize them ? It would be an unworthy imputation on the 
 divine perfection to suppose that he should convert the 
 most pure and natural encouragements of virtue into its 
 severest scourges. For what could be more painful to a 
 virtuous and pious mind, than to believe that all his fu- 
 ture and immortal hopes, which are ever the more ele- 
 vated and strong in proportion to the sincerity and purity 
 of his virtue, might turn out to be only an unreal dream ? 
 
 The same conclusion is confirmed by the apprehensions 
 ef wicked men, especially under the stroke of any great 
 
55 
 
 calamity, or at the approach of death. The conscience of 
 guilt anticipates a retribution far exceeding any sufferings 
 to which it is subject in the present life. And very few 
 are the cases in which this salutary fear can be entirely 
 extinguished by the hardihood of vice, or the principles 
 of a perverted education. And certainly, it would not be 
 serving society, or human nature, to attempt to remove 
 from the minds of men those useful restraints which the 
 wisdom of divine providence hath thought proper to im- 
 pose upon passions, which would otherwise he dangerous 
 to the peace of society, and to the best interests of virtue. 
 
 This argument is not a little strengthened by the effect 
 which the disbelief of the immortality of the soul, and the 
 doctrine of a future life, would have upon the state of 
 public morals. The good could hardly find in the general 
 order and distribution of providence in the present state, 
 sufficient motives to sustain them in the continual con- 
 flicts ; or to encourage the incessant efforts of virtue 
 which are often painful and laborious, and not rarely ex- 
 posed to extraordinary hazards. If the passions of men 
 were freed from the salutarv restraint of religious fear, 
 and secrecy were, as it would then be, the effectual pro- 
 tection of crimes, the greatest infelicity and disorder 
 would reign in society. — We may borrow some instruction 
 on this subject from the courts of princes, and the capitals 
 of wealthy and corrupted nations, where this doctrine is 
 
56 
 
 treated with the greatest contempt, and moral principle is 
 consequently most dissolved. If the whole capital were 
 as corrupted as the court, — the entire country as the cap- 
 ital, — and all grades of the people were absorbed in the 
 vortex of impiety, — the common sense of mankind, sup- 
 ported by the uniform testimony of all history, would 
 pronounce such a nation on the verge of extinction. 
 Among the principal symptoms and causes of that de- 
 pravity, which generally precedes the ruin of states and 
 empires, have justly been reckoned, by the wisest ob- 
 servers of human nature, contempt of religion, and dis- 
 belief of the future existence of the soul, and of those 
 moral retributions which are always a necessary accom- 
 paniment of that doctrine. Some of the most eminent of 
 the Roman writers ascribe the extreme corruption of the 
 Koman manners towards the period of the republic, and 
 the first age of the empire, to the introduction and preva- 
 lence of the epicurean philosophy, of which the final ex- 
 tinction of the soul at death was one of the leading princi- 
 ples. If these reflections be well founded, and the doe- 
 trine of immortality, with the respect for religion which 
 naturally accompanies it, be necessary to the peace and 
 order of human society, and the prosperity of nations, the 
 truth of the principle is strongly implied.* It is unrea- 
 
 * See how this principle accords with that expressed by 
 Cicero. Orat- de haruspicum responses. Quis est tarn vecors 
 
57 
 
 sonable to believe that God has formed human nature in 
 such a manner as to require that it should be governed by 
 falsehood. We ought, on the contrary, to presume that 
 all the plans of infinite wisdom do so correspond, that 
 virtue and happiness, which appear to be the end of the 
 whole, must be established by truth alone. 
 
 There appears, in the next place, such a promiscuous 
 and unequal distribution of good and evil in the present 
 state as gives strong ground to expect in some future 
 period of our existence, a partition of the blessings and 
 inflictions of divine providence more conformable to our 
 ideas of the goodness and equity of the Supreme Ruler 
 of the universe. If we be'itld here the ultimate plan of 
 his moral government, it would be a most natural ex- 
 pectation to find virtue placed in such favorable circum- 
 stances that tranquility, comfort, and honor at least 
 should be within the compass of its reasonable efforts; 
 and that vice should be subjected to deprivations, and 
 
 qui, cum deos esse intellexerit, non intelligat eorum numine 
 hoc tantum imperium esse natum, and auctum, and retentum ? 
 Quam volumus licet, P. C. ipsi nos amemus, tamen, nee nurae- 
 ro Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, nes calliditate Paenos, nee arti- 
 bus Gr«cos, nee denifirae hoc ipso hujus gentis, ac terrse domes- 
 tico nativoque sensu Italosipsos, ac Latinos, sed pictate ac re- 
 ligione, atgue hac una sapientia, quod Deorum immortalium 
 numine omnia regi, gubernarigue peispeximus, omnes gentes, 
 nationesque superavimus. 
 
 vol. ii. H 
 
5b 
 
 inflictions that should bear some proportion to the dis- 
 orders and enormities occasioned by it. Contrary, how- 
 ever, to that order which all our ideas of reason, and of 
 the goodness, and equity of the Deity would suggest, we 
 often behold virtue suffering under deep and unavoid- 
 able afflictions; and those afflictions, not unfrequently, 
 induced immediately by its firm and steady adherence to 
 truth and duty; while vice triumphs in the rewards of 
 baseness and treachery. Many writers professing to put 
 external circumstances wholly out of the question, have 
 maintained that happiness, depending entirely upon the 
 internal state of the mind, is more equally distributed 
 according to the virtue of individuals than is implied in 
 the objection; and that Diogenes in his tub was really 
 more happy than Alexander on his throne. — This vindi- 
 cation of the perfect equity of the present arrangements 
 of providence, supposing them to be final, is rather 
 plausible than substantial. A few men, by religious 
 enthusiasm, or philosophic speculation, may reduce or 
 exalt their feelings to almost any standard. But, when 
 we speak generally of the happiness of human nature, 
 it is so much connected with the sensibilities of the body, 
 and so much with the relations of society, and with ideas 
 resulting from its customs, habits, and opinions, which 
 necessarily incorporate themselves with all our feelings, 
 that the external state, and visible condition of men must 
 
59 
 
 afford us a more accurate criterion by which to judge 
 of the equalities, or inequalities of divine providence, 
 than any interior and invisible standard of mental feel- 
 ing. And by this scale, surely, we do not perceive the 
 rewards of virtue, or the chastisements of vice, bestowed 
 in any equitable degree according to the respective 
 characters of men. They fall rather according to the 
 ingenuity, and perseverance of individuals, or the defect 
 of these talents, or according to some fortunate accident, 
 than according to merit. 
 
 This mixed and unequal distribution of good and evil 
 is probably better adapted to a state of probation, where 
 virtue is to he exercised and tried by being thrown into 
 various circumstances of prosperity and adversity, than 
 one that should indicate a more exact discrimination of 
 character would be. But it is contrary to all the ideas 
 we have framed of the divine wisdom, and beneficence, 
 to believe that these probationary sufferings are to be 
 the final reward of virtue; or that this mixture of 
 pleasure and pain, in which pleasure predominates, is to 
 be the final infliction of divine justice on that vice which 
 disarranges the order and harmony of the moral world. 
 
 From these considerations, we have the justest reason 
 to conclude that this mixed condition of human life, and 
 promiscuous distribution of divine providence, indicates 
 
60 
 
 to us only a preparatory state of moral discipline and 
 trial that has an ultimate reference to another and higher 
 condition of being. 
 
 And this hope we have seen to be confirmed by the 
 analogy of nature which seems inclined not to leave any 
 thing imperfect, and will, therefore, not crush in the 
 germ, or arrest in their incipient state, so many noble 
 faculties of the human mind which are evidently capable 
 of attaining a degree of perfection which they never 
 arrive at, and of evolving powers which they never dis- 
 play in the present life. — We have seen it confirmed by 
 the general suffrage of human nature, resting, it would 
 seem, on an instinctive impression, or intuitive conviction 
 of the mind, and expressed by the religious opinions of 
 all nations. — It is further confirmed by the hopes of 
 virtue, and the fears of guilt, especially at the approach 
 of death. — And it is confirmed, finally, by the unequal 
 distributions of providence in the present world. 
 
 These moral reasons, when taken separately, may not 
 be calculated to produce entire conviction in a mind 
 disposed to weigh every argument with scrupulous dis- 
 trust; yet, when assembled together under one view, 
 they present such a group of probabilities as can hardly 
 be resisted by a candid and ingenious understanding; and 
 must make even the cold scepticism of infidelity relent. 
 
61 
 
 But I must repeat again that full unwavering conviction 
 on this most interesting subject can be obtained only 
 from revelation, which not only assures us of the fact of 
 a future and immortal state of being, but discloses to us 
 in some measure, wherein it consists. 
 
 On the nature of our future existence, admitting, what 
 reason I think demonstrates, that it is, in the highest 
 degree, probable, being so far beyond the range of our 
 experience, we can form no precise and certain ideas. 
 We can speak of it only in the most general terms. But, 
 from the analogy of what actually comes under our 
 observation of the process of nature, we have just ground 
 to conclude that the condition of human nature will be 
 greatly improved above its actual state in the present 
 world, both in personal form, (if, according to the ideas 
 of religion, we look for a reunion of the body with the 
 soul,) and in the powers of the mind. In those trans- 
 mutations which pass under our immediate review in the 
 insect tribes, we never see them pass from one state io 
 resume the same appearance in another, but, in each 
 gradation in their progress, they acquire augmented 
 powers, and are invested with new and more beautiful 
 forms. It cannot, therefore, be unreasonable to expect a 
 vast augmentation in the active powers of our nature, 
 both corporeal and mental, in the quickness and vivacity 
 of the senses, in the beauty and excursive force of the 
 
62 
 
 imagination, and the penetration aud energies of the 
 understanding. And the same analogies incline us to 
 expect the addition, or developement of many new facul- 
 ties of which, in the present state, the imperfection of 
 em* reason cannot form any conception. 
 
 Nor is it improbable that, in an immortal existence, 
 the renovated faculties of our nature will advance for- 
 ward in an endless progression of improvements, whether 
 reason incline us more to the idea of one uniform state 
 of existence, or to the pythagorean principle of succes- 
 sive transmutations. And, in the infinite system of the 
 universe there is undoubtedly an ample theatre for an 
 interminable progress both in knowledge, and in virtue. 
 Nor can we doubt that there, the wisdom, the power, the 
 goodness, and equity of the divine perfections will be 
 more conspicuously, and illustriously displayed than in 
 the present introductory state of being. 
 
 Such, without giving any unwarranted license to the 
 excursions of imagination, and judging only from actual 
 analogies presented to our reason, may we presume to 
 be a just, as far as it is extended, though most imperfect 
 outline of that future state of being, to which virtue 
 ardently aspires, and to the hope of which the most cool 
 and dispassionate examination of reason deliberately 
 affixes its seal. 
 
63 
 
 LECTURE XVII. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE, ITS EXCELLENCE, ANB 
 ITS SANCTIONS. _ 
 
 mm 
 
 CONTENTS. ^ 
 
 The denomination virtue, whence derived— -Tierce princi- 
 pal questions raised by metaphisical writers on this sub- 
 ject, concerning its nature, its excellence, and the sanc- 
 tions of the moral law — Different opinions concerning 
 the nature of virtue— -The opinion of the ancients pre- 
 ferred who maintained that virtue is acting according 
 to nature. — The general principles which compose hu- 
 man nature— >The poxvers and faculties of the body, 
 though the lowest in order, are, however, not to be ne- 
 glected in our theories of morals. — Move these virtue 
 requires the cultivation of the intellectual powers — next 
 of the social and benevolent affections — and jinally of 
 the moral principles. — On the excellence of virtue the 
 same diversity of opinion exists, as on its nature — Itsex- 
 ecllence intrinsic, necessary, and eternal. — Any change 
 in the natural principles of the human constitution, 
 would have altered only the modifications, and expres- 
 sions of virtue, not its essence — The sanctions of the 
 law of virtue, or the rewards and penalties which ac- 
 
6* 
 
 company obedience or disobedience. — These found in 
 conscience, religion, and general interest — The great 
 question agitated in the ancient schools, what is the 
 chief good % — The opinions of the Epicureans, the Stoics, 
 and- the Pei'ipatetics. 
 
 HAVIXG^tated generally the principles of human 
 nature, especially as related to our system of moral ac- 
 tion, and exhibited to you, likewise, the most obvious 
 evidences which reason presents to us of the being of God, 
 and of the immortality of the soul, doctrines which give 
 the greatest efficacy to the law of duty, it is time to come 
 more particularly to the consideration of our duties 
 themselves, the great end to which our preliminary dis- 
 cussions have been intended to prepare the way. 
 
 The performance of all our duties from proper princi- 
 ples and with right affections, is denominated virtue. But, 
 before I enter into a particular detail of the obligations 
 imposed upon us in our various relations, I shall make a 
 few observations on the general subject of virtue which 
 the metaphisical speculations of philosophers, both an- 
 cient and modern, seem to require. 
 
 Virtue is a denomination taken from a word in the 
 latin language which signifies strength, or force,* be 
 
 * A similar derivation is found in other languages of the cor- 
 respondent term in them signifying virtue. 
 
65 
 
 cause, in the first rude ages, when the speech of men was 
 beginning to be formed, personal vigor, and courage, the 
 usual accompaniments of bodily strength, were the quali- 
 ties which chiefly attracted general admiration and confi- 
 dence. Virtue was then equivalent to another phrase, the 
 perfection of our nature; and this was esteemed, at that 
 time, to consist principally in corporeal strength and ac- 
 tivity, connected, as it was commonly supposed to be, with 
 boldness and energy of mind. 
 
 In proportion, however, as other qualities grew into es- 
 teem in the progress of society? especially the good affec- 
 tions of the heart, which are so deeply laid at the foun- 
 dation of social happiness, and public utility, the same 
 term became, in time, easily transferred to express these, 
 which were now regarded as the most estimable proper- 
 ties of human nature. And the transfer was the more ea- 
 sily made, because the highest courage is commonly 
 united with the greatest benevolence, and with all those 
 noble dispositions which chiefly contribute to the felicity 
 of mankind. 
 
 At length, when the institutions of civilized society 
 approached their highest improvements, the common hap- 
 piness being placed under the protection of the laws, and 
 individual security being less dependent, than formerly, 
 
 on personal strength and bravery, the moral dispositions, 
 vol. ii. i 
 
66 
 
 from their predominant influence on the general happi- 
 ness, becoming more and more the objects of universal 
 esteem, have now, almost exclusively, appropriated to 
 themselves the denomination of virtue. The term may, 
 therefore, still be regarded as expressing generally the 
 perfection of our nature ; as, when taken singularly, it is 
 commonly employed to signify some property which con- 
 tributes to that perfection, This meaning of the term we 
 apply by a figure, in designating any useful, and distin- 
 guishing quality of other animals, or even of inanimate 
 substances ; as we speak familiarly of the virtues of a 
 horse, of the virtues of a soil, of the virtues of a plant. 
 
 In the speculations of philosophers on this subject, 
 three very general and abstracted questions have been 
 raised; — what is the nature of virtue?—. What is its 
 excellence? — And what is its sanction? — On the first of 
 these questions, we seek for some general principle 
 which constitutes the essence of virtue, — as benevolence ; 
 self-love; reasonableness of action; or any other; or we 
 enquire into the character and quality of those actions 
 which enter into its description. — On the second, we 
 enquire what is the true ground of our approbation, or 
 esteem of virtue? Why it ought to be preferred to any 
 other course of action ? — The last question implying that 
 virtue contains in itself the essence of a law, or rule of 
 
67 
 
 duty, we enquire in it, by what authority it is enjoined? 
 under what rewards or penalties it is enforced ? 
 
 Of the nature of virtue, different opinions, or rather, 
 perhaps, different modes of expressing the same truth, 
 have been adopted by various writers. Some maintain 
 the principle, that virtue consists in acting agreeably to 
 the will of God; of which sentiment Dr Paley is a 
 distinguished advocate. — Others, with Dr Campbell, in- 
 sist that it is only the wisest means of promoting our 
 own happiness. — Another class concur with professor 
 Hutcheson in resolving virtue wholly into benevolence ; 
 making it consist in a prudent well-directed care to pro- 
 mote general good. — And, finally, those who delight in 
 a very abstracted and intellectual consideration of all 
 subjects, define virtue, agreeably to the opinion of Mr 
 Locke, to be acting according to the reason and nature of 
 things. 
 
 With regard to these opinions it may be remarked that 
 there is a portion of truth in each of them; but, as 
 general definitions of virtue, they seem to be deficient in 
 precision and accuracy. — It is true, in the first place, 
 that wherever we can clearly discern the* will of God, 
 whether in the structure of nature, the order of provi- 
 dence, or the dictates of reason and conscience, that 
 will, being ever founded in perfect rectitude and truth, 
 
68 
 
 ought to be esteemed an inviolable law by every reason- 
 able creature. But the advocates of this opinion too 
 frequently speak of virtue as if it were an effect of mere 
 •will, without sufficiently considering the essential, in- 
 trinsic, and immutable rectitude of its nature,* a perfec- 
 tion which it partakes in common with the nature of the 
 Deity. — With those who maintain the second and third 
 opinions, we cannot doubt that virtue contributes both to 
 individual and to general happiness. But this should be 
 considered rather as an effect resulting from virtue, in 
 consequence of the wise and benevolent constitution of 
 man, than as constituting its nature. Nor, indeed, is the 
 consideration of our own happiness, at the time of acting, 
 nor the benevolent consideration of the happiness of 
 others, always the direct and immediate motive of many 
 a virtuous act ,• but frequently we are urged to it simply 
 from the sentiments of piety, of justice, or charity, from 
 some natural instinct, or from the authority of con- 
 science. — When, in the last place, virtue is said to con- 
 sist in acting according to the reason and nature of 
 things, the definition, though approaching to truth, seems 
 to be by far too general. The being and nature of things 
 embraces the infinite relations of the system of the 
 universe; a very minute portion only of which, can be 
 subject to our cognizance. Such a standard of duty, ex- 
 pressed in such general terms, must be extremely vague, 
 
69 
 
 unless, like God himself, we were intimately acquainted 
 with the entire structure of nature. But, besides the 
 generality of the rule, it labors under another defect. 
 The system of things embraces physical as well as moral 
 relations. It would make virtue, therefore, consist in 
 skill in the arts, as well as in the practice of duty. 
 
 If the definition had been limited to our own nature ; 
 the mutual relations of its different principles to one 
 another, and the relations of the whole to other sensible 
 beings, I would be disposed to acquiesce in it. And, with 
 this restriction, it would coincide, in a great measure, 
 with that given by a large portion of the ancient philoso- 
 phers, who maintained, that virtue is Jiving according to 
 nature: — that is, according to the respective dignity and 
 importance of the different principles which enter into 
 the composition of human nature; — according to the 
 relations in which it is placed to other sensible beings 
 within the sphere of its action ; and, finally, according to 
 the end for which it seems to have been formed. 
 
 Any system is then said to be perfect when it is con- 
 formed to the design of the maker, when it is possessed 
 of all its parts, when they are arranged in the order in 
 which they are naturally related to one another, and 
 move in concert to accomplish the end for which they 
 were intended. And although a machine, or a building 
 
ro 
 
 were deranged, so that the relations of the separate parts 
 did not appear immediately; yet, a skilful machinist, 
 or architect might, by a careful inspection and compari- 
 son of each part with the whole, determine, at length, 
 its proper place, and use in the system. This analogy 
 may easily be applied to human nature, although it be, 
 as it is confessed to be, disordered by many criminal and 
 irregular passions. By the proper exercise of reason, 
 we may discern those principles which have acquired 
 undue strength, or those, on the other hanu, which are 
 too feeble,' or when the whole are in just harmony and 
 proportion. 
 
 Let me employ another analogy for the sake of illus- 
 tration. In the complicated machinery of a time-piece, if 
 a few of the wheels, detached from the control of the 
 regulator, were left to be impelled by the force of the 
 spring, although their rapid motion, in that circumstance, 
 would be conformable to the nature of such wheels urged 
 by such a power, yet it would not be according to the 
 nature of the machine. The union and subordination of 
 the parts has been dissolved. In like manner, if a vicious 
 man, under the impulse of passion, should abandon him- 
 self to any intemperate excess, although the disorder 
 would be conformable to the nature of that passion acting 
 without the government of reason and conscience, it would 
 
71 
 
 not be agreeable to the whole nature of man moving as 
 one system, according to the design of the Creator. 
 
 The preceding reflections may serve, in some measure, 
 to explain the meaning of those who maintain this general 
 principle, that virtue is living conformably to nature : 
 that is, to nature, as it appears, from a careful examina- 
 tion of all its constituent powers and faculties, to have 
 been its original state in the purpose and intention of the 
 Deity ; and which appears, indeed, to be the natural and 
 proper operation of all its parts, when they all move in 
 perfect coneert and harmony with one another, according 
 to the relations which reason evidently indicates to exist 
 among them. Human nature obviously appears to be, at 
 present, in a state of moral derangement ; yet, as amidst 
 the broken columns, and arches of some ruined temple, 
 you can perceive what has been the beautiful arrange- 
 ment and structure of the entire pile, so we can, even 
 now, discern, among the disordered powers of man, what 
 is the true glory of his moral and intellectual constitution. 
 
 For this purpose it is necessary to enter into a minute 
 and particular examination of the constituent powers and 
 principles of our nature, to enquire what proofs of excel- 
 lence and worth they respectively contain ? what indica- 
 tions of natural superiority and title to command accom- 
 pany the sentiments of some of them ? to discern which 
 
1% 
 
 afford the most pure, dignified, and durable enjoyments ? 
 or which, on beholding them, inspire us with the highest 
 admiration and respect, or procure for their possessor the 
 most genuine esteem? These enquiries, correctly an- 
 swered, will point out the rank whieh each principle 
 ought to hold ; the culture which should be bestowed 
 upon each ; and the influence which they should respec- 
 tively exert on our conduct and manners. 
 
 The general principles of our nature affected by such 
 an investigation, may be ranged under the following 
 heads, — the corporeal powers and appetites,— the social 
 affections, — the intellectual faculties,^-and the moral sen- 
 timents. Under each of these, however, are many sub- 
 divisions which it would be difficult to enumerate, and 
 class in their proper order. They must be left to the re- 
 flection and experience of each person as objects occur, 
 or occasions are presented in life, to call them into exer- 
 cise. — But on the general divisions we may remark, that 
 the faculties, propensities, and pleasures of the body are 
 evidently the lowest in the scale, and the moral senti- 
 ments the highest. And, of the others, the social affec- 
 tions are, perhaps, superior in their intrinsic importance, 
 and certainly in their influence on human happiness, to 
 the intellectual powers. 
 
From this transient and comparative view, although 
 the corporeal part of our nature, its propensities and fa- 
 culties, are by no means to be neglected in our theories 
 of virtue, or in its practical details ; yet are they mani- 
 festly of inferior consideration to our moral principles, to 
 our intellectual faculties, or our social and benevolent 
 dispositions. These demand the supreme care, and the 
 most assiduous culture of every wise and good man, be- 
 cause they are the properties by which human nature is 
 chiefly distinguished from that of the inferior animals. 
 But it is a mistaken notion into which some ancient sects 
 of philosophy fell, and which formerly misled many ex- 
 cellent men of the christian church, to suppose that the 
 body is the seat exclusively of all vicious and corrupted 
 passions, which, therefore, it is peculiarly meritorious* 
 not only to restrain within prudent and virtuous bounds, 
 but by voluntary inflictions and macerations of the flesh, 
 totally to extinguish. On the contrary, as man is a rea- 
 sonable being composed of body as well as of spirit, 
 reason and religion both teach, that his Creator has 
 charged him with the duty of providing for the improve- 
 ment and perfection of his whole nature ; and consequent- 
 ly for the vigor and activity of his corporeal, not less, in 
 
 their proper place, than of his mental faculties, 
 vox. ii. k 
 
7* 
 
 This care is requisite to enable him to fulfil, in the 
 best manner, many of the most useful purposes of life. 
 And those passions and affections which are supposed to 
 have their seat chiefly in the body, such as anger, pride, 
 the affection of the sexes, although their ardor requires 
 them to be subjected to the habitual control of a prudent 
 rein, are necessary as our nature is constituted, to the 
 highest perfection of the human character. An apostle 
 could say, he angry and sin not. And, certainly, the 
 noble and manly countenance of conscious bravery with- 
 out arrogance, united with the serene tranquility of be- 
 nevolence and gentleness without weakness, presents in 
 the human form and aspect a work most worthy of God, 
 Let me again illustrate the remark in the affection which 
 subsists between the sexes. None of the passions are 
 more dangerous and corrupting when not placed under the 
 government of reason and virtue. But, when subjected 
 to the discipline of a virtuous self-command, it contri- 
 butes to energy of character, to the cultivation of human- 
 ity and politeness, and to mingle a certain generosity, and 
 elevated sense of honor in the manners of society, which 
 would otherwise be liable to become rude and inhuman. 
 So that the corporeal powers, and the animal affections, 
 although among the inferior attributes of human nature, 
 are far from being unworthy the consideration, and the 
 well-directed culture of a good man. On the other hand, 
 
as they form an important portion of our compound na- 
 ture, and extend an influence not inconsiderable into the 
 action and movements of our whole sensitive, rational, 
 and moral system, they enter essentially into every just 
 theory of virtue. A man, however upright in his inter- 
 course with the world, however meek in his dispositions, 
 yet if he is vapid, and without any point, and energy in 
 his character, if he is gross and uncultivated in his man- 
 ners, if he is even negligent and slovenly in his person, 
 and without that attention to appearance which is requi- 
 site to render him acceptable in the society of his friends, 
 is, in proportion to the neglect, defective in true virtue. 
 And, although a maxim of Mr Hume's that a reasonable 
 attention to cultivate personal vigor, activity, cleanliness, 
 and beauty, is essential to virtue, has been sometimes 
 treated with ridicule ; yet, has it a certain foundation in 
 nature, and the genuine principles of philosophy. Nor 
 can I think that it was altogether out of the view of St. 
 Paul in giving the character of true religion, when, after 
 enjoining ivhatsoever are true, honorable, and just, he 
 adds, tvhatsoever things are lovely, and of good report, if 
 there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think of these 
 things — On this branch of the subject I have insisted 
 with the more particularity, because, in the theories of 
 morals which have been proposed by various writers, it 
 has so seldom received the consideration which it deserves. 
 
76 
 
 The next class of the human powers is the intellectual, 
 embracing, not merely the faculty of reasoning, or of 
 laying down principles of science, and of pursuing them, 
 through a legitimate train of inferences, to their ulti- 
 mate conclusions; but the powers, likewise, of imagina- 
 tion and taste, and all those talents which go to form the 
 genius, and are connected with the invention or improve- 
 ment of the arts. It is indispensable to the character of 
 virtue to cultivate these powers, which form the basis of 
 the high distinction which human nature claims over 
 the inferior animals, with all the assiduity that is con- 
 sistent with the practical duties which in our various 
 situations we owe to ourselves, to society, and to re- 
 ligion. All men, it is true, are not placed in circum- 
 stances equally favorable for the cultivation of their 
 intellectual powers, nor do their avocations in life re- 
 quire, or permit an equal proportion of their time to be 
 devoted to these refined and dignified pursuits. A great 
 disparity, therefore, must necessarily appear in the 
 mental employments of different men. — -What is chiefly 
 requisite in those who enjoy the fairest opportunities 
 for the improvement of their minds, and possess the best 
 endowments from nature, is to be aware equally of the 
 strength and weakness of human reason. Of its strength 
 to awaken hope, and stimulate exertion on all subjects 
 which are within the proper range of its faculties ', of 
 
77 
 
 its weakness, to check the boldness of hypothetical con- 
 jecture which is so often used to the great injury of 
 science; and especially to repress rash and presumptuous 
 conclusions on moral and divine subjects, instead of hum- 
 bly soliciting the aid of that Infinite Mind, who, we have 
 reason to believe, will sometimes deign to impart his 
 suggestions to those who piously and submissively wait 
 Tor them.* As there is no exercise of the human facul- 
 ties more favorable to virtue, than the humble, patient, 
 and diligent cultivation of the intellectual powers ; none 
 is more unfriendly than a bold licentious indulgence of 
 the imagination, on the one hand, or on the other, of 
 those refinements in speculation which attempt to push 
 the enquiries of reason beyond the sphere assigned to it 
 by nature. 
 
 In the practical details of virtue, in the next place, 
 the social and benevolent affections hold a rank superior 
 
 * A beautiful example of this modest exercise of reason we 
 have in a devout heathen, the great Scipio, who, according to 
 Aulus Gellius, never undertook any important design without 
 deeply reflecting on it in the presence of the Deity, according 
 to the ideas of his religion, and seeking the direction of the 
 divine counsel, in devout meditation, and laying open his mind 
 to the celestial influence. 
 
 P. Scipio Africanus nihilfaepitpriusquam sedisset diutissime 
 in cella Jovis, quasi acciperet inde mentem divinam, et 
 cons'lia salutaria reipublicse. Propterea solitus erat ventitare 
 in Capitolium ante diluculum. A. Gel. 1. 7. c. 1. 
 
78 
 
 to that of the intellectual powers. Not that virtue con- 
 sists, according to the opinion of some good men, ex- 
 clusively in the exercise of universal benevolence. None 
 but the Deity can embrace an object so vast as the whole 
 ef human existence, and make it the direct and immedi- 
 ate scope of his actions. But in order most effectually to 
 accomplish this universal design, he has divided it into 
 separate and individual parts, charging each person, in 
 the first place, with the care of his own interests, that 
 in this way the felicity of the whole may be provided 
 for by the individual exertions of all. But when each 
 man has acquitted himself of this primary duty, virtue 
 requires that the principal portion of his active energies 
 should be employed in cultivating the affections which 
 unite him with society, and fulfilling the duties which 
 render it flourishing and happy by mutual co-operation, 
 and by the reciprocal interchange of kind sentiments, 
 and beneficent offices. These are clear, and definite ob- 
 jects which we can distinctly grasp in the mind, and 
 which present to the affections a precise aim. All beyond 
 this, when we would render the object of benevolence 
 more expansive, is only a vague and general wish for the 
 happiness of universal being. — The impulses of self-love 
 arc, by the constitution of our nature, so strong that the 
 duties, or the good offices which a man performs to 
 himself, and those who immediately depend upon him, 
 
?9 
 
 do not stand high in the scale of virtues ; hut the derelic- 
 tion of them is branded with peculiar reprobation in the 
 catalogue of crimes. Our benevolent affections, and our 
 social duties maintain a much higher grade; and the 
 constant claims which, under one form, or another, are 
 made upon them in society, requires, in order to fulfil 
 them virtuously, a large portion of life. 
 
 It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that the 
 benevolent virtues were solely occupied with the great 
 interests of society, or of human nature. They descend 
 to regulate the smallest sources of social enjoyment. 
 Attentions to please, amiable dispositions, polite and 
 elegant manners, and all those talents or graces of mind, 
 or conduct, which contribute to promote the harmony of 
 society, and render men most interesting to one another, 
 enter so deeply into the springs of social pleasure, and 
 possess such an important influence on human happiness, 
 as justly claim for them, though often omitted in moral 
 systems, an elevated rank among the virtues. They 
 especially deserve the attention of youth, who are enter- 
 ing into public life. They correct the asperities of the 
 passions, they soften and sweeten the intercourses of 
 society; and possess a most amiable reflex influence on 
 the temper and character of those who study to cultivate 
 them. 
 
80 
 
 Finally, the highest, and noblest principles of our 
 nature, which ought, therefore, to be cultivated with the 
 greatest assiduity, and the most reverential respect, are 
 its moral sentiments, embracing justice to mankind, and 
 piety to God. These sentiments are accompanied with 
 such a perception of dignity and authority in their own 
 nature, and such a sense of duty and obligation on our 
 part, as proves them to be of the highest order in the 
 human constitution, and invested with a natural right of 
 control over every other power. A just reverence for 
 them is that which is implied in the common maxim that 
 a man should respect himself. Not that arrogant claim 
 to respect from others for our follies, and humors, which 
 is often made by men who have no other pretence to 
 virtue except that rash courage which is always ready to 
 defend their vices ; but that inward and habitual rever- 
 ence for the dictates of reason and conscience, of honor, 
 propriety, and truth, which is the surest distinction of a 
 virtuous man. 
 
 The action of the whole system is then only regular, 
 and conformable to the original plan and constitution of 
 nature, when every movement is accompanied with an 
 habitual sense of rectitude, and duty, governed by a re- 
 spectful deference to the judge and witness in our own 
 breast, the representative of that infinite and holy inspec- 
 tion to which we, and all things are subject 
 
81 
 
 The principle which I have been illustrating, of making 
 original nature, as far as we can now discern it, the 
 proper model of virtue, implies, in the next place, acting 
 according to the relations which human nature sustains to 
 all other sensible beings ; whether to God as our Creator, 
 to mankind as our brethren, or other creatures, as yielded 
 to our use, or placed under our power, and control. 
 These ideas will be more particularly explained when I 
 come to treat of the detail of moral duties in the next 
 lecture. 
 
 Having, in these reflections, laid a foundation for un- 
 derstanding the general doctrine of the ancient philoso- 
 phy, that virtue consists in acting according to nature, 
 by pointing out its constituent principles, and by shewing 
 their comparative importance, and their mutual relations 
 to one another in the system, and the necessity of their 
 moving together in harmony and concert according to 
 their just proportions, in every course of action: it may 
 be farther illustrated by considering shortly what indica- 
 tions are contained in human nature of the end for which 
 it is designed. Every system that is wisely constructed, 
 has all its operations so combined and regulated as to 
 concur in the accomplishment of some useful end ; and in 
 proportion as it attains this end with certainty and ease, 
 
 it is said to be perfect according to the design of the 
 vol. ii. x, 
 
S2 
 
 maker. Pursuing this analogy, if we ask, what is the 
 did for which man has been formed ? As far as humau 
 reason can dive into the purposes of nature, it seems to 
 be, to enjoy and communicate happiness as a sensible, ra- 
 tional, social, and moral being. In this way he best pro- 
 motes the benignant purposes of the Deity, and thereby 
 renders due glory to him j by the practice of good morals, 
 and by becoming the instrument of the divine beneficence 
 to his fellow beings. The sincere aim to fulfil this end is 
 virtue. — Against the design of his Creator, it must be 
 confessed, man often errs : sometimes through ignorance, 
 and mistake ; but much oftcner through misguided pas- 
 sion. He seldom errs, however, with impunity. He is 
 commonly chastised by the reprehension of his own mind^ 
 and the painful consciousness that he has departed from 
 the true order of nature. 
 
 Permit me then to conclude with this necessary cau- 
 tion : since names are apt to mislead, and it is difficult to 
 free the mind from the influence of habitual associations 
 among its ideas, we ought to beware of imagining that the 
 philosophical language of acting according to nature, 
 ever implies yielding to the impulse of any single passion 
 or tendency which may happen to be strongest at the 
 time. On the contrary, it implies the regular movement 
 ot the entire system in the just relations and proportions 
 of all its parts, as it appears from reason to have been 
 
originally designed by the Creator ; although left to man 
 as a free, rational, and moral agent, to carry into full ex- 
 ecution, for a continual exercise of his wisdom, and his 
 virtue. 
 
 OF THE EXCELLENCE OF VIRTUE. 
 
 In the next question which occurs on this subject,— 
 what is the excellence of virtue ? "We enquire wherein its 
 merit consists ? What is the true ground of our approba- 
 tion, or esteem of it? Why is it preferable to any other 
 course of action ? 
 
 The same diversity of opinion has existed on this as 
 ©n tbe last question. Some writers maintain that its ex- 
 cellence lies simply in its conformity to the divine will ; 
 or that the single reason why it deserves our esteem, and 
 is to be preferred to vice, is because God has prescribed 
 it. — This opinion seems to give to virtue too arbitrary a 
 complexion, and too mutable a nature ; and, apparently, 
 implies, in the mode of expression, contrary, I presume, 
 to the true intent of its authors, that our preference 
 might have been equally required for some form of vice, 
 if such had been the sovereign order of the Creator. On 
 the contrary, virtue seems to possess as necessary an ex- 
 cellence as the Deity himself. In him goodness, justice, 
 and truth, which are the source, and, as far as the human 
 nature can resemble the divine, the pattern of virtue in 
 
 
Si 
 
 man, are equally unchangeable and eternal with his in- 
 telligence, wisdom, and power. 
 
 Reflections of this kind have laid the foundation of a 
 second opinion, that the excellence of virtue is to be sought 
 solely in the reason and nature of things : which is jonly 
 another way of sajing that its excellence is intrinsic, in 
 the nature of the thing, and like the perfection of the 
 Deity, is eternal and immutable. 
 
 The third opinion is, that its excellence consists in its 
 tendency to promote general happiness. — And the last, 
 that it is excellent, or is so to be esteemed by each man, 
 merely from its relation to his own happiness. 
 
 On this subject we may, perhaps, justly pronounce, that 
 there is in virtue, that is, in moral rectitude and good- 
 ness, an intrinsic and necessary excellence, as was shewn 
 in our reflections on the moral faculty. It is not depend- 
 ent upon mere will, even the will of the Deity ; but rests 
 upon the same immutable foundation with our ideas of 
 the divine perfection. We can have no other just concep- 
 tion of God himself but of infinite, eternal, immutable 
 goodness, rectitude, and truth, united with wisdom and 
 power. And virtue in human nature is, in its degree, a 
 transfusion of these perfections. Its excellence, there- 
 fore, consists in the essential nature of the thing itself. 
 And that is founded in the eternal, necessary and im- 
 
85 
 
 mutable perfection of God. But although I reject the 
 abstract principle, that the excellence of virtue consists 
 in its conformity to the will of the Creator, or that his 
 will alone constitutes its excellence ; yet, wherever his 
 will is clearly indicated, whether in the structure of the 
 # universe, and the order of providence, or in the constitu- 
 tion of our own nature, and the relations which he has 
 established between us and other beings, it must, from 
 his infinite wisdom and goodness, be the surest rule of 
 duty to us. 
 
 In support of the principle that virtue, both as to its 
 nature and its excellence, depends wholly upon the will 
 of God, it is demanded if he might not have formed us 
 with other faculties, and established between us and 
 other beings different relations from those which subsist 
 at present? And whether, in that ease, the nature of 
 virtue must not have suffered a proportional change ? — I 
 reply, that the external acts by which those varied rela- 
 tions must have been expressed, would necessarily be 
 changed ; but its essence and principle, which consists in 
 equity, and benevolence to mankind, in piety to God, and 
 regard to the happiness of all being, must have remained 
 unaltered. Will and power, therefore, can only alter the 
 modifications of virtue, but do not change its nature. 
 
OP THE SANCTION OF VIRTUE. 
 
 The third question arising on this subject ; What is 
 tlie sanction of virtue? implies, that it contains a law, or 
 rule of conduct, and we ask by what authority it is en- 
 joined ? and by what rewards and penalties it is enforced ? 
 For the sanction of a law signifies the good which, by 
 the constitution of the lawgiver, is made to follow obedi- 
 ence as its reward, and the suffering which he has annexed 
 to disobedience as its penalty. 
 
 The authority by which this law is enjoined we find in 
 •ur own breasts, and in the will of God. In the dictates 
 of conscience Ave perceive an authority that is fitted to 
 command, as well as a power that is able to punish. — The 
 authority of conscience, however, is evidently subordi- 
 nate, and points to the higher control that is placed in the 
 will of God, to which it continually refers us. — The moral 
 law, as I have said, possesses an intrinsic and immutable 
 excellence on account of which it justly claims our sub- 
 mission and respect ; but it would be dead as to any au- 
 thority to compel obedience, without a divine legislator 
 to impose it by his command, and enforce it by his power. 
 Nothing but ivill, armed with the 'power to reward or 
 punish, can oblige. 
 
 Our next enquiry, then, is, what sanctions the Supreme 
 Legislator has annexed to his law ? They are commonly 
 
S7 
 
 divided into those of duty, and interest. And under thcs« 
 beads, with a little latitude of expression, they might all, 
 perhaps, without difficulty be arranged. A more obvious 
 and comprehensive division, however, I shall take the 
 liberty to adopt from my immediate predecessor, the late 
 Dr Witherspoon, who classed them under the heads of 
 conscience, of religion, and of general interest ; with a very 
 summary explanation of which I shall present you. 
 
 The sanction of conscience consists in the internal 
 satisfaction, and self-approbation which good men per- 
 ceive in upright conduct, and in the compunction, re- 
 morse, and fear which usually follow criminal actions. — 
 The sanctions of religion consist in the natural hope of 
 the favor of God which accompanies virtue, and the ap- 
 prehensions of his displeasure which often mingle them- 
 selves with vice and disturb its tranquility. But the sanc- 
 tions of religion reach beyond the present life. And, al- 
 though, in a work like this, we are not permitted to avail 
 ©urselves of the lights of revelation, yet the belief of a 
 future judgment, and our natural anticipations of some 
 righteous retribution to virtue and to vice, seem to an- 
 nounce the existence of a law in the human breast, w hich 
 is found in all nations, which carries forward the hopes 
 and fears of mankind to an after-state of existence. And, 
 eften, its influence upon their actions, is not the less pow- 
 
S3 
 
 erful, because its ideas are obscure ; and, to the vicious* 
 especially, it presents only an unknown terror. 
 
 The question has been seriously agitated whether rea- 
 son and nature direct mankind to look forward to a cor- 
 rective and therefore only temporary suffering for vice in 
 a future state, or to a vindictive justice, which will conse- 
 quently be eternal. — The former opinion was embraced 
 by the disciples of Pythagoras, who brought his doctrine 
 from India. — The latter, especially with regard to certain 
 grades of crime, seems to have been the more general 
 sentiment of mankind throughout the world, pagans, as 
 well as christians. They have. been probably led to the 
 idea of eternal sufferings from the strong compunctions 
 of guilt which impart strong and fearful apprehensions of 
 punishment, but suggest no definite period to it. The 
 idea, doubtless, was strengthened by observing that many 
 crimes draw after them, even in the present world, irre- 
 parable evils. No repentance can efface the stain which 
 is imprinted on the character by some infamous offences, 
 nor repair the ravages committed on the constitution by 
 many vices. Seeing these calamities endure as long as 
 life, it was not an unnatural apprehension that, hereafter, 
 in a state of retribution, they would be continued as long 
 as the existence of the offender. 
 
 The last sanction which has been stated of virtue, or 
 the moral law, is general interest : that is, the happiness 
 
89 
 
 which usually accompanies virtuous dispositions, and con- 
 duct—the unhappiness which naturally follows vicious 
 pursuits, and dishonest aims. 
 
 There are, doubtless, many examples of virtue which 
 has deeply suffered by misfortune. Misrepresentation 
 may take from merit the esteem of the world ; an adher- 
 ence to truth may sometimes overwhelm an honest man 
 through the artifices of a powerful rival. On the other 
 hand, momentary advantages may now and then seem to 
 be gained by a departure from moral principle. But it 
 may be laid down as a sure and general maxim that a 
 prudent and steady course of virtue is calculated, by a na- 
 tural influence, to produce inward peace and tranquility 
 of mind, and to lead to public respect. The occasional 
 advantages derived from vice are more apparent than 
 real ; and seldom are they durable. When a man is once 
 known to act from corrupt principles, they generally de- 
 feat his aims; or, if he succeeds, he loses in reputation 
 and peace of mind, more than he acquires in wealth and 
 power. Besides, great affluence, or extent of power, al- 
 though they may often be productive of many conveni- 
 ences, are not necessarily connected with happiness. 
 True happiness, on the other hand, most certainly arises 
 from the inward peace and self-approbation of conscious 
 
 rectitude and virtue 5— from moderate, constant, and 
 voi. ii. m 
 
90 
 
 useful employment; and from the regular and virtuous 
 exercise of all the powers and faculties of our nature, 
 and especially of the social and benevolent affections of 
 the heart. 
 
 Having treated of the nature, and excellence of virtue 
 and the sanctions which the Deity has annexed to its 
 law, particularly in the tranquility and happiness which 
 it is fitted to impart to the virtuous mind, this seems to be 
 the proper place to introduce to your notice the famous 
 question which was so earnestly discussed in the ancient 
 schools; — What is the chief good? — Having feeble and 
 obscure conceptions of the felicity arising from the 
 genuine affections of religion, and the clear and certain 
 hopes of immortality, as they are understood by a 
 christian, the great enquiry of their philosophers was, 
 in what manner existence, with the present powers, 
 tendencies, and prospects of human nature, might be best 
 enjoyed? And, on this subject, after the doctrines of the 
 Pythagorean school, which entertained many pure and 
 excellent principles of morality, blended with* their im- 
 perfect ideas of a future existence, we perceive three 
 principal sects which divided the empire of philosophy, 
 the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Peripatetics. 
 
 The Epicureans, who derived their name from their 
 founder, maintained that animal, and sensible enjoy- 
 

 01 
 
 inents, the gratifications of our natural appetites, and 
 our external senses, form not only the chief, but the sole 
 happiness of man ; and that what are called the intel- 
 lectual pleasures are only the recollections of these, 
 Which then become somewhat more refined through the 
 influence of the imagination. Epicurus himself was a 
 man of moderate desires, and, consequently, maintained 
 that moderation in every indulgence is necessary to true 
 enjoyment. — His followers, however, availing themselves 
 of the literal and obvious interpretation of his general 
 principle, abused his doctrine to the grossest sensuality. 
 And their opinions being so much accommodated to the 
 inclinations of the greater portion of mankind, they 
 became, in time, the most numerous sect of antiquity. 
 For the same reason, this philosophy will always practi- 
 cally flourish among a luxurious people, and in a de- 
 clining and corrupted state of public manners, in every 
 nation. 
 
 The Stoics, who borrowed their denomination from 
 the portico in which their discussions were held, main- 
 tained that true happiness lies only in the mind, and is 
 not affected by external circumstances. They endeavored 
 to extinguish all the finest sensibilities of human nature, 
 from the supposition that they serve only to effeminate 
 the soul. It was their leading maxim that there is 
 nothing good but virtue, and nothing evil but vice. 
 
92 
 
 Consequently their vise man had no wants. He pos- 
 sessed in his own mind, and in the acquirements of phi- 
 losophy, all that is great and good in human nature. 
 Their virtue, however, was proud, aud too independent. 
 It excluded, almost entirely, the gentle sympathies, and 
 benevolent affections of the heart. Their philosophy 
 was more fitted to generate heroes than to form amiable 
 and useful men. 
 
 The Peripatetics, who received this denomination 
 from their constant practice of walking while they com- 
 municated and received instruction, pursued a middle 
 path between these extremes; and one, I believe, more 
 conformed to nature and reason than either. They did 
 not despise the moderate gratifications of sense ; they 
 cultivated the liberal pleasures of imagination and taste; 
 they were not indifferent to the advantages of fortune, 
 provided they were acquired with fairness and honesty. 
 But they held virtue to be the chief good. And their 
 virtue was sociable, benevolent, useful. This philosophy 
 agrees with the account of the nature of virtue which I 
 have already given. It is the exercise of all the powers 
 of our nature in their proper proportions, and the just 
 subordination of the inferior to the superior principles. It 
 is the preservation of every faculty in its greatest vigor 
 and perfection, and, thereby, maintaining it always in a 
 slate of readiness not only to be applied to its best uses, 
 
93 
 
 but to derive from it, its highest enjoyments. — Over all 
 presides the moral faculty both to direct their exercises, 
 and to assist their enjoyments; being at the same time, 
 itself the source of the purest and suhlimest pleasures. 
 —So that, according to this theory, taking virtue as a 
 general rule of action, and judging from its general 
 effects on individuals, communities, and nations, if it 
 cannot be pronounced the only good, it is manifestly the 
 chief good. It is the common interest of the world. 
 
 Such are the grounds on which I have made general 
 interest a sanction of the moral law. I confess that the 
 depravity of human nature, and the imperfection of 
 human virtue in the best of men in this world, would 
 render this sanction too feeble if it were not aided by that 
 of religion. But religion, conscience, and general inter- 
 est, taken together, form one that will necessarily pos- 
 sess great force on every serious and reflecting mind. 
 
9* 
 LECTURE XVIII. 
 
 OUR DUTIES CLASSED UNDER THEIR GENERAL HEADS. 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The ancients having no system of public and popular 
 moral instruction, theology, and morals, were necessa' 
 rily taught in the schools of their philosophers. — The 
 details on these subjects were therefore more ample 
 than are usually found in the modern systems of phi- 
 losophy — Morality divided in different ways*— first 
 according to the principles from which it springs — and 
 secondly according to the objects on which it terminates. 
 —The former, the division of the ancients, who 
 arranged the virtues under the heads of justice, pim- 
 dence, temperance, and fortitude— The analysis of 
 these — The latter division more commonly used by the 
 moderns, — including the duties which tve owe to God- 
 to our fellow-men,^ — and to ourselves. — Our duties to 
 God, internal and external — the internal, love, rever- 
 ence, resignation — The external, visible worship, the 
 forms of which various, but its essence embracing 
 adoration, thanksgiving, confession, prayer — Objec- 
 tions answered. — Of our duties to our fellow men — of 
 our duties to ourselves. 
 
 
95 
 
 AMONG the ancient philosophers the principal por- 
 tion of their moral systems was occupied in theological 
 discussions, and in the detail of duties resulting from the 
 various relations of man, domestic, social or civil. The 
 national religion, consisting chiefly in a multifarious 
 ceremonial, and little in doctrine, or moral precepts, had 
 established no means of public and general instruction 
 for the people in the principles of piety, or morals, such 
 as christian nations enjoy in their churches. The system 
 of duty was taught only in their schools. Its details, 
 therefore, were necessarily explained with great minute- 
 ness, and extent in the discourses of their philosophers.* 
 But among christians the practical duties of life, as they 
 respect either religion, or society, are so constantly 
 inculcated from the pulpit, and are so perfectly under- 
 stood by all classes of the people, that this part of our 
 philosophieal course is, in consequence, greatly abridged. 
 All that I shall aim at, therefore, will be to reduce our 
 duties under general classes, so as to present a clear and 
 systematic view of them ; and to exhibit their general 
 principles, so that the grounds and reasons of each duty 
 may be better understood ; and our ideas concerning it 
 may, in some dubious cases, be rendered more precise 
 and determinate. 
 
 * Of which we have admirable examples in the treatises of 
 M. T. Cicero, de officiis, et de natura deorum. 
 
96 
 
 The duties of morality may be divided in different 
 ways, either according to the principles from which they 
 spring, and which govern their exercise, or according to 
 the objects on which they terminate. The former prin- 
 ciple of division was generally adopted by the ancient 
 philosophers, who classed them under the heads of 
 justice, prudence, temperance, and fortitude. The latter 
 is more commonly employed by christian writers, who 
 arrange them under the heads of the duties which we 
 owe to God, to our fellow-men, and to ourselves. — I shall 
 place before you a very brief view of each of these 
 systems. 
 
 Justice, according to the interpretation of that term 
 by the ancients, was used in a much more comprehensive 
 signification than it is by modern writers ; and was made 
 to embrace the duties of benevolence, as well as those of 
 strict equity. Their rule of justice, although noAvhere so 
 clearly and concisely expressed in their writings, as in 
 the precept of our Saviour, was in substance the same; 
 — " whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, 
 do ye even so to them." Justice, therefore, according to 
 their ideas, included the duties of innocence, which con- 
 sists in abstaining from injury to others ; — of equity, 
 which is returning an equivalent for the good we have 
 received; — and of beneficence, which implies conferring 
 such favors on others as, in exchange of circumstances, 
 
97 
 
 we could reasonably desire from them. In their moral 
 commentaries, likewise, the parental and filial duties, 
 piety, friendship, gratitude, candor, liberality, charity, 
 and even civility, and politeness, were all comprehended 
 under the head of justice. And to the same comprehen- 
 sive class were referred all our public duties as citizens, 
 or as magistrates, as well as our social and domestic. 
 
 It is a principle generally received, that the duties of 
 justice, may he made the objects of positive institution, 
 and of penal laws. Those of innocence and equity may 
 certainly be required by compulsory authority, and their 
 violation punished by the power of the magistrate. But 
 as those of beneficence, if they are to be included under 
 the head of justice, cannot be designated by such definite 
 limits, it would not be safe to entrust their regulation or 
 their punishment to any human tribunals. They can 
 properly be enjoined, therefore, only under the sanctions 
 of conscience and religion. 
 
 Prudence may be defined to be the pursuit of objects 
 according to their worth, and the application of the fittest 
 means to arrive at their possession. — It calls into action 
 the talents of judgment, and discretion, in forming a just 
 estimate of the value of different objects which solicit 
 our attention, a sound consideration of the natural con- 
 nection of causes and effects, with a quick perception of 
 
 vol. ii. n 
 
9S 
 
 occasion and opportunity, and a steady firmness of mind 
 in seizing and applying them to their proper ends. Pru- 
 dence has been pronounced by many writers to be rather 
 a natural talent than a moral quality. And certainly, 
 some men, by their constitutional organization, possess 
 more than others that calm judgment and discretion 
 which is necessary to their framing wisely the plans of 
 conduct, and that foresight, firmness, and decision which 
 are requisite to carrying them successfully into execution. 
 But it is, like most other useful qualities, capable of 
 being greatly improved by habitual reflection, and a 
 vigilant self-command. And it is so intimately connected 
 with morals, and so necessary to the successful issue of 
 every important design, that true virtue will ever aim 
 assiduously to cultivate it. A man who is deficient in this 
 talent can seldom act to any great or useful purpose. 
 He may often defeat the best intentions, and derange the 
 most wholesome plans; and can rarely acquire, aud never 
 preserve, true respectability of character. An imprudent 
 man is liable to embarrass himself in the most dishonora- 
 ble diffculties, which present almost irresistable tempta- 
 tions to crime. And often, without foreseeing the 
 precipice on which he is running, he may throw into 
 confusion his own most important interests, or the 
 interests of his dearest friends. In proportion, then, a? 
 
99 
 
 imprudence is a vice, is the merit of cultivating thf 
 opposite virtue. 
 
 Imprudent men we sec prone to impute the disastrous 
 consequences of their own neglect, precipitancy, or mis- 
 management to the arrangements of divine providence; 
 and, with a mistaken piety, profess to trust in providence 
 to relieve them from the effects of their own indiscretions. 
 —This arises from a most erroneous conception of the 
 universal government of the Supreme Being, as if it were 
 a vacillating, and mutahle disposition of events, liahle to 
 be disarranged according to the exigencies and desires of 
 men. Divine providence, on the contrary, proceeds on 
 fixed and invariable laws, of which prudence may avail 
 itself, as far as they are known, for its own interest; but 
 which never change with a weak indulgence in compassion 
 to the errors of human folly; Men sometimes mistake 
 the regular order of events, where the concatenation of 
 their causes is, through ignorance, or inattention, not 
 observed, for immediate and extraordinary interpositions 
 of Heaven. Such fancies do no honor either to religion 
 or philosophy. 
 
 The general virtue of prudence may be regarded as 
 including the following considerations : — In the first 
 place, a decent respect in our conduct, and the declara- 
 tion of our opinions, to the known sentiments and feelings 
 
100 
 
 of others ; which may conciliate friendship, and mutual 
 civility, that direct collision, even on trivial subjects, 
 tends very much to destroy. — In the next place, a scrupu- 
 lous attention, in our manners, and in the temper which 
 we manifest in our social intercourse, to what our period 
 of life, and station in society requires or permits. There 
 is a wide difference between the decencies and proprieties 
 which are becoming in age or in elevated rank, and those 
 which are demanded of youth or of dependence. — A no 
 less important consideration, in the analysis of this virtue, 
 is a judicious ngard to economy in the expenditures of 
 living, according to the certain means which we enjoy. 
 If this is requisite to the fulfilment of the duties of 
 justice and benevolence, it is equally necessary to the 
 freedom and independence of mind which every virtuous 
 citizen should study to preserve. — To complete that 
 character of prudence which is requisite to eusure success 
 to the general designs, and especially the important en- 
 terprizes of life, we should combine, in the character, 
 and habit of the mind, two apparently opposite quali- 
 ties, which, however, are necessary to impart to each 
 other a mutual and solid support, — decision, and caution. 
 For without decision, caution becomes feebleness or 
 timidity ; and without caution, decision is apt to degen- 
 erate into rashness or obstinacy. By the former I mean 
 that prompt and resolute choice of conduct, which seizes 
 
101 
 
 •ccasion at the proper moment to ensure success, when 
 indecision would be loss of opportunity. And by the 
 latter, that calm and deliberate judgment which foresees 
 and provides against all difficulties,* which weighs well 
 the characters of those with, or against whom we act; 
 and balances the magnitude and importance of every 
 undertaking with our own talents. 
 
 In this division of the virtues, in the next place, tem- 
 perance implies, not merely abstinence in the use of meats 
 and drinks, but moderation in all animal enjoyments. 
 In the idea of temperance, likewise was included, ac- 
 cording to the habits of thinking among the ancients, that 
 constant and useful employment, and that degree of active 
 and strenuous exercise, which are necessary to promote 
 the health and vigor of the body, and to subdue its pas- 
 sions and appetites into a just subserviency to reason. 
 
 In the same system, in the last place, fortitude com- 
 prizes the virtues of patience, intrepidity, and constancy. 
 By patience we mean firmness in enduring suffering, — by 
 intrepidity, courage and resolution in encountering 
 danger,-—and by constancy, that strength of mind which 
 enables a virtuous man to persevere, in opposition to 
 difficulties, or temptations, in a course which he has once 
 chosen with wisdom. 
 
102 
 
 Fortitude has, like prudence, been regarded by many 
 writers as a natural rather than a moral quality; and 
 depending chiefly on a certain constitution of nerves. 
 Nature has, undoubtedly, given to some men a greater 
 constitutional firmness of mind, and hardiness of enter- 
 prize, than to others; but a composed courage in the 
 midst of dangers, and an unshaken constancy in the 
 midst of sufferings, are qualities which may be acquired 
 by a virtuous energy of soul. And much of the dignity 
 and usefulness of life depends upon their cultivation. 
 Native timidity may be overcome, by proper culture, 
 especially if united with the experience of suffering and 
 danger, which ought always, perhaps, to enter into the 
 plan of a wise and virtuous education. The weakest na- 
 tures have been enabled, by the power of religion, to 
 endure with firmness the greatest evils; and intrepidity 
 and courage may be acquired, of which we have many 
 examples in the school of the Stoics, by the force of 
 principle and habit. And I doubt not, if Demosthenes 
 had taken as much pains to cultivate the intrepidity and 
 constancy of his mind, as he did to improve Ids eloquence, 
 he might, instead of being reproached for his cowardice 
 at Cherona, have become as great a soldier as he was 
 an orator. 
 
 From this analysis of the virtues made by the ancients, 
 it is obvious that, under their fear heads, may be em- 
 
 
103 
 
 braced all the practical duties of life, with all the 
 speculative questions which philosophers have raised 
 ©n the theory of virtue. 
 
 •I am next to consider the more modern division of 
 duty, as its objects are different ; God, our fellow men, 
 and ourselves, 
 
 OF OUR DUTIES TO GOD. 
 
 Our duties to God may be divided into the external, 
 and the internal; or into those that are general, and 
 those that are particular.— Our general duties embrace 
 the whole compass of piety and virtue; because, as they 
 constitute the moral law of the universe prescribed hy 
 God, conformity to their dictates is justly regarded as 
 obedience to him. The particular duties terminate im- 
 mediately on God as their object, and include both the 
 devout affections of the heart, and the external expres- 
 sions of those affections. The internal affections which 
 are due to God, and from which, as from their natural 
 source, flow all the streams of pious obedience in the 
 life, are love, reverence, and resignation. Love is ths 
 active spring of universal obedience. To be sincere it 
 ought to be supreme; and is most perfectly expressed in 
 the injunction of the sacred scriptures; thou shalt lore 
 the Lord thy God ivith all thy heart, with all thy &oul, 
 with all thy strength, and ivith all thy mind. This affec- 
 
tion respects all the attributes of the Deity, but chiefly 
 his moral perfections, and especially that infinite good- 
 ness on which we, and all tilings do constantly depend. 
 
 Reverence, the next of our internal duties, is less #n 
 active than a restraining principle. It is calculated to 
 impose a salutary check on the passions of mankind, sur- 
 rounded and stimulated as they constantly are by pow- 
 erful temptations to vice. This affection has respect 
 chiefly to the infinite greatness, wisdom, power, and holi- 
 ness of God. It is a principle essential to the existence 
 of piety and virtue in creatures so imperfect, and 
 prone to evil as mankind. From the profound degree 
 in which- it prevails in a pious mind, it is often de- 
 nominated, in the sacred scriptures, the fear of God. 
 This is a virtue which was held in peculiar honor in the 
 early ages of the Roman commonwealth. And we learn 
 from their most distinguished writers, that they regarded 
 the fear of the Gods, and reverence for the sacred offices of 
 their religion, as the basis of the public virtue, and of the 
 prosperity of the republic. — How much more truth and 
 importance should be attached to this principle in an en- 
 lightened christian country. 
 
 Absolute resignation to the divine will, and the wise 
 arrangements of providence, I have mentioned, in the last 
 plaec, as belonging to our internal duties. — It implies 
 
105 # 
 
 entire confidence in the wisdom, justice, and goodness of 
 the Infinite Mind, and a deep conviction of the narrowness 
 of our own understanding, and the imperfection of our 
 own views as to what is good or ill for us. Resignation, 
 resting on these principles, begets not only a grateful 
 acknowledgment of the manifold blessings of divine 
 providence, but a submissive acquiescence in the will of 
 Heaven under its most afflictive dispensations ; believing 
 that, although we may not be able to discern their ultimate 
 relations to any beneficent end, either to ourselves, of 
 others, yet are they all reasonable and just, and good; 
 and necessarily springing out of the all- wise arrange- 
 ments of the universal system under the government of 
 God. — This disposition of mind is equally opposed to all 
 discontent and repining at the course of providence, and 
 to all vain reliance upon its aids while Ave are 
 negligent of our own duties; it tends to produce that 
 placid serenity of soul so becoming the character of 
 resigned piety, and to awaken the active and prudent 
 exertions which virtue requires of every good man, in 
 dependence on God, to improve the felicity of his con- 
 dition, and his honorable standing in life. 
 
 - Our external duties comprize every decent outward 
 
 expression of the inward and pious sentiments of the 
 
 heart. They are all comprehended under the general 
 vol, ii. © 
 
106 
 
 name of divine worship, for which, however, natural 
 reason has not prescribed any precise and definite form. 
 Different nations, and different sects of religion, have 
 each adopted a peculiar ceremonial for itself. No sanctity 
 ought to be ascribed to rites exclusively of the affections 
 which they are designed to assist ; or any farther than 
 they are proper expressions of the devout dispositions of 
 the soul. But all rites deserve to be regarded with 
 respect which custom has sanctified among any people, 
 and has so associated with their religious ideas as to be 
 to them the most serious and affecting expression of their 
 devotional exercises. In considering the general question 
 of the utility of rites and forms in religion, and how they 
 may be applied in the most effectual manner to answer 
 the design of impressing the heart in divine worship, and 
 aiding its pious emotions, reason will decide that the 
 ceremonial ought to be neither too simple, nor too mul- 
 tifarious, or splendid. The mass of mankind are so much 
 governed by sensible impressions, as seldom to be able to 
 support with proper fervency, a religion that aims to be 
 wholly intellectual, and scorns any alliance with the 
 senses; on the other hand, the senses are apt to be so 
 much amused with a ceremonial too splendid or multifa- 
 rious, as, in time, to exclude the heart and understanding 
 from divine worship, and to substitute in its room, only a 
 frivolous superstition. 
 
 i 
 
10.7 
 
 The essential parts of a rational worship, in whatever 
 ceremonies it is clothed, are adoration, thanksgiving, con- 
 fession, and prayer. Adoration relates to (he infinite per- 
 fections of the Deity for which we ought, in devotion, to 
 feel and express the highest veneration. Thanksgiving is 
 employed in expressing our grateful acknowledgment 
 of those mercies which we continually receive from him. 
 Confession respects our manifold offences, and omis- 
 sions of duty. And, finally, prayer regards those mercies 
 of which we have need, and which we ought humbly and 
 submissively to ask of him, either for ourselves, or for 
 others. 
 
 These duties, being continually explained and in- 
 culcated in the public institutions of religion, are so gen- 
 erally understood as not to require any further illustra- 
 tion in this place. Two objections, however, have been 
 so plausibly urged against the duty of divine worship in 
 general, as it has been just stated, that they ought not, 
 perhaps, to pass without a particular answer. 
 
 It is said, in the first place, to convey an unworthy idea 
 of the Deity to suppose that he derives pleasure from 
 hearing his perfections repeated, or his praises extolled 
 by mortals, in acts of adoration, as if, by such adulatory 
 addresses, his displeasure could be soothed, or his mercy 
 bribed — It is equally unworthy the divine majesty, it is 
 
10S 
 
 alledged, to believe that humiliating confessions from 
 such imperfect beings can be acceptable to him who 
 already knows and pities all their errors; or that he can 
 require of them formal acknowledgments for acts of 
 beneficence which it is agreeable to his nature to bestow, 
 and for which no acknowledgments can make any re- 
 quital. 
 
 To these unfair observations it may justly be replied, 
 that it is an essential law of our nature that all high sen- 
 timents, or strong affections, necessarity seek for some 
 means by which to express themselves. If, therefore, we 
 feel as virtuous and pious men ought to feel towards the 
 author of our being, to check this dutiful expression of 
 our emotions would be to stifle the most reasonable im- 
 pulses of the heart; and not to feel them would be the 
 proof of a cold and corrupted soul. 
 
 I add, that the most natural and laudable affections, 
 when they are suppressed, and are entirely locked up 
 within the heart, necessarily languish, and, at length, 
 cease to be felt. The strong and ingenuous emotions of 
 unfeigned piety will seek for some reasonable mode of 
 external expression, and the repeated expression of them 
 in the acts of a visible worship will reciprocally give 
 strength to the inward principles from which they flow. 
 An external worship then is founded on principles of tbfc 
 
109 
 
 soundest reason, and most conformable to the laws of 
 our moral nature. It cannot, by any person who thinks 
 wisely of the divine nature, be supposed to be enjoined 
 by the infinite mind for any gratification which he re- 
 ceives from the praises, or prostrations of a being so 
 feeble and imperfect as man. It can arise only from 
 that infinite wisdom and benevolence which requires our 
 worship for its own essential rectitude, and for its own 
 beneficial influence in cultivating in the human heart the 
 affections and habits of virtue and piety for which it is 
 so admirably fitted. For adoration of the divine perfec- 
 tions, while it impresses the pious mind with an awful 
 reverence of the Deity, tends to elevate the tone of its 
 moral feelings, and to assimilate them to the purity of the 
 object of its worship.— -The grateful recollection of the 
 divine mercies in the immediate presence of God, serves 
 to confirm the affectionate purposes of duty and obedience 
 to him.— On the contrary, the penitent confession of sin 
 helps strongly to arm the soul against its own weakness, 
 and its unholy passions. And finally, the supplications 
 which we address to the Father of mercies for the 
 blessings which we need, either for the present life, or 
 in the hope of a better existence, remind us continually 
 of our dependence on him for all things, and awaken, by 
 that remembrance, the profoundest sentiments of piety. 
 
110 
 
 The second objection, which, perhaps, is more plausi- 
 ble, and seems supported on stronger metaphysical 
 ground, is directed against the efficacy, and, consequent- 
 ly, the utility of prayer, employed as a mean of obtain- 
 ing the divine favor either in our public, or private 
 devotions. — The order of the universe, it is argued, and 
 the eternal train of causes and effects have, from the 
 beginning, been fixed by infinite wisdom. And the laws 
 of wisdom are as unchangeable as those which have been 
 ascribed to necessity, or fate. — Why then, it is demanded, 
 should we pray ? If pre-established causes naturally co- 
 operate to the production of the event, it must take place 
 independently of our prayers. If otherwise, we pray in 
 vain. The breath of mortals caunot change the eternal 
 order of things. — This is the objection placed in its 
 strongest point of light. — To obviate it, let it be observed, 
 that prayer can have only two ends in view ; to cultivate 
 the moral qualities of the heart, and thereby obtain 
 those spiritual blessings which, in the order of provi- 
 dence, are connected with them; and to procure those 
 natural and temporal goods which we solicit in prayer. 
 To obtain the former, we have seen that prayer, with 
 every other part of divine worship, possesses an obvious 
 and acknowledged influence. The stress of the objection, 
 therefore, bears upon the latter; but admits of this 
 simple and unconstrained solution.— From the superiori- 
 
Ill 
 
 ty of intellect to matter, and of the moral to the natural 
 order of things, there is the highest probability that the 
 physical has been created wholly in subserviency to the 
 moral world. If this principle be admitted, will it not 
 result as a natural consequence, that the Creator may 
 have so adjusted the one to the other, that, foreseeing 
 the sincere and reasonable desires of good men who are 
 his children, the order of causes, and the train of events 
 shall, at the proper time, and in the way most agreeable 
 to his infinite wisdom, correspond with their prayers ? 
 
 This may be regarded as a hypothetical answer to the 
 objection. There are innumerable occasions, however, 
 on which the answer may be drawn from the plain and 
 obvious course of nature. How often do the events of 
 the world manifestly depend upon moral springs? How 
 often do we see the fortunes of individuals greatly in- 
 fluenced by their moral character? And the universal 
 voice of history has almost raised it into a maxim, that 
 the prosperity of nations is intimately linked with their 
 virtue, and their decline as certainly associated with the 
 corruption and disorder of the public manners. When, 
 therefore, we reflect how much public, and individual 
 manners are affected by the healthful state of religion, 
 and how much this is connected with the purity of the 
 public worship, and the sincerity of private devotion, 
 we can hardly avoid the conclusion that, on many events, 
 
112 
 
 prayers offered up to God iu sincerity, with fervency, 
 and perseverence, have an influence not less powerful, 
 and, often, much more successful, than any other second 
 Cause. So that, whether we regard the wise, and eternal 
 arrangements of providence, or the known and fixed 
 order of natural and moral events, the result still re- 
 curs, that prayer, far from being an unreasonable, and 
 hopeless service, not only has a natural and important 
 influence on human events, but may have, as revelation 
 assures us it has, a positive and divine efficacy. And, 
 indeed, can any institution be more just and equitable in 
 itself, than that God should make the bestowment of the 
 blessings which we ask in prayer, to depend upon the 
 existence and growth of those pious dispositions which 
 are best cultivated in these devotional exercises ? 
 
 OF OUR DUTIES TO OUR FELLOW-MEN. 
 
 Our duties to our fellow-men include a greater com- 
 pass and variety than those which terminate immediately 
 upon God. They respect the infinite relations which 
 subsist among mankind, and they necessarily occupy 
 much the largest portion of life. There is scarcely an 
 action we perform which does not affect some of these 
 relations. From the general information which prevails 
 in a country like ours, continually enlightened by the 
 pulpit on the practical duties of society, it would be 
 
113 
 
 wholly unnecessary, in this place, to go into an extensive 
 detail of our social offices. It will be sufficient to suggest 
 a few subdivisions under which they may all be systemat- 
 ically classed. 
 
 The first and most general of these divisions may be 
 into the duties which are negative; consisting merely in 
 abstaining from injury, or from ever inflicting unneces- 
 sary pain,— and such as are positive, being employed 
 only in doing actual good. — Many other classes of practi- 
 cal duty might admit of a similar division; but this, on 
 account of the many and strong passions in human nature 
 that so often impel men to mutual injury, seems particu- 
 larly to require it. 
 
 The positive duties of this class may all be ranked 
 
 under the heads of justice, and beneficence. But, though 
 
 so simple in their principles, they are almost infinitely 
 
 diversified in their details, according to the relations 
 
 which we sustain to our country — to our family — to our 
 
 vicinity — to our friends — to the objects of our charity — 
 
 to those who are invested with authority over us — or who 
 
 are subjected to our control — or, finally, according to our 
 
 philanthropic relations to mankind. — On these duties 
 
 volumes have been written; libraries have been filled; 
 
 and still they are subjects which constantly demand our 
 vol. ii. p 
 
Ill 
 
 attention, and on which we can never cease to be active* 
 and to learn. 
 
 OF OUR DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 
 
 The duties which we owe to ourselves are as real, and, 
 in many respects, as important as those of any other 
 class. On these, as on the last, I shall content myself 
 with simply enumerating the subdivisions under which 
 all tbe particular details may be embraced. They relate 
 to self-preservation — to self-enjoyment — to self-interest 
 — and to the general cultivation and improvement of our 
 nature. 
 
 Self-preservation includes the care of health, of liberty, 
 and life. He is culpable who neglects his health, which 
 ought to be diligently preserved only for the useful and 
 virtuous purposes of living. — He is, perhaps, more culpa- 
 ble who barters his liberty for any pretended convenience, 
 or compensation, or who does not strenuously defend, 
 when it is attacked, this most noble, and precious preroga- 
 tive of our nature.' — And voluntarily to sacrifice life, or un- 
 necessarily to hazard it, in a cause that is not worthy the 
 rational and moral nature of man, if it does not flow 
 from insanity, is an evidence of a mind precipitate and 
 foolish, and utterly void of virtuous fortitude. 
 
115 
 
 A rational self-enjoyment, in the next place, every 
 good man is not only permitted but required to cultivate, 
 in order that he may be rendered more grateful to his 
 Creator, by moderately, and prudently using the blessings 
 of divine providence. This is evidently conformable to 
 the design of the Deity in our creation, and harmonizes 
 with the apparent structure, and order of our nature. 
 But in using this flattering privilege, peculiar caution is 
 requisite, lest the force of self-love should urge indul- 
 gence beyond that restricted and frugal boundary at 
 which prudence, and virtue should arrest it. 
 
 Self-interest, the cultivation of which belongs to this 
 class of duties, relates to necessary provision, and com- 
 fortable accommodation, which no good man, under any 
 pretended idea of benevolence or public spirit, ought to 
 neglect; and, in a more extended view, it relates to the 
 favor of God, and to eternal felicity in a future world, 
 which should be the first concern to every truly wise 
 man in the present. 
 
 The general cultivation and improvement of our na- 
 ture, which I enumerated last among the duties which 
 we owe to ourselves, has for its objects, as I have men- 
 tioned in the preceding lecture, our bodily powers, the 
 faculties of the mind, and the affections of the heart. 
 The most important trust which our Almighty Creator 
 
116 
 
 has committed to man as a moral and accountable being, 
 is himself. And the first obligation which such a gift 
 imposes upon him is to carry it to the ultimate perfec- 
 tion of which it is susceptible. 
 
 Such is a very brief analysis of the general system of 
 our duties, but sufficient, perhaps, to present to a studi- 
 ous and reflecting mind a key to its minute, and particu- 
 lar details. 
 
117 
 
 LECTURE XIX. 
 
 OF (ECONOMICS. 
 
 FIRS* OF MARRIAGE, OF DIVORCE, OF ILLECltlMAtE CON- 
 NEXIONS. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Of marriage. — If polygamy be prohibited by the law of 
 nature? — Its existence before the christian azra not in- 
 consistent with good morals. — The monogamic institu- 
 tion most favorable to human nature, and obligatory 
 on us by the positive institution of Christ, and by the 
 ivholesome laics of our country. — Jlnciently marriage 
 regarded as a subject entirely of civil and political 
 regulation— This principle not unfavorable to the 
 strictest rules of chastity and good morals. — Of divorce 
 — Of the command of our Saviour respecting repudia- 
 tion. — The perpetuity of the marriage contract favor- 
 able to morals and happiness — Of the legitimate causes 
 of divorce — They ought always to be made as much as 
 possible to favor the weaker scx.—Of infidelity to mar- 
 riage vows. — Of obstinate desertion. — Of intoxication. 
 — Of cruel treatment. — Of contrariety of temper — Of 
 
 incurable diseases Of mutual consent Of the illegal 
 
 commerce of the sexes. — Its pernicious influence on 
 
118 
 
 society Its criminality, and the cruelty of Us con- 
 sequences, 
 
 FAMILIES being the elementary portions of eivil 
 society, the doctrine of osconomics naturall;. precedes 
 that of politics. The domestic relations, which are the 
 subjects of disquisition in this branch of the science, are 
 those of husband and wife, of parent and child, of 
 master and servant. The reciprocal obligations and du- 
 ties which arise out of these relations are already so 
 well understood that they require but little elucidation 
 from the philosophical chair. On these, as on many 
 other practical subjects in morals, the instructions of the 
 church have, in a great measure, superseded the neces- 
 sity of those of the school. I shall, therefore, confine 
 my enquiries, or observations, concerning them chiefly 
 to a few speculative questions which are either more 
 doubtful in themselves, or have been rendered so by the 
 prejudices under which they have been viewed. 
 
 Of these relations the first in importance, as well as 
 in its natural order, is that of husband and wife. And, 
 on this subject, omitting, as unnecessary, all other ques- 
 tions, I shall limit myself simply to laying down a few 
 principles relative to the nature, the ends, and the dura- 
 tion of the contract by which they are united. 
 
 
119 
 
 Marriage is the union of the sexes under the sanction 
 of known, and public laws. Its ends are, to promote the 
 happiness of man, and to provide for the state a succes- 
 sion of useful, virtuous, and well-educated citizens. These 
 ends would be entirely defeated by a promiscuous and 
 uncertain commerce, which would have the most baneful 
 influence on social order, and on the public morals. That 
 the Creator intended the most tender and intimate unions 
 to subsist between them, is evident from the constitution 
 of our nature, and from the mutual sentiments by which 
 he has attached them to one another. But the dangers 
 with which he has thought proper to guard the chastity 
 of the weaker sex, the helplessness of infancy in the 
 human species, and the necessity of providing, from their 
 earliest years, for the virtuous education of children, re- 
 quire that this union should be placed under the pro- 
 tection, and control of the laws. Otherwise, women would 
 be exposed to the severest sufferings, and the most mor- 
 tifying degradation; men would be at once licentious, 
 and unjust; and children would be, at first, the most 
 wretched, and afterwards the most vicious of beings. 
 
 Marriage, according to the precepts of religion and 
 the civil institutions of the christian world, can take 
 place only between one man, and one woman. But 
 in consequence of the laws of Israel upon this subject, 
 and the customs of patriarchal antiquity, it has become 
 
120 
 
 a question among christian moralists, whether polygamy 
 be contrary to the prescription of the law of nature, or 
 only to the positive institutions of religion, and the state ? 
 Of the law of Christ there can hardly exist any doubt. 
 The question, therefore, relates chiefly to the age 
 anterior to the christian dispensation, and to those nations 
 who do not enjoy the light of the gospel. I confess I 
 cannot perceive, from the opinions, and example of the 
 wisest men of antiquity, that the law of nature has pre- 
 scribed any definite rule upon the subject, and, therefore, 
 where religion has not taken it out of the hands of the 
 legislator, it is to be regarded chiefly as an affair of civil 
 and political regulation. — Monogamic institutions have 
 been found wherever they have prevailed, to be followed 
 by a more favorable influence, than the polygamic, 
 on the improvement and happiness of society. And this 
 experience affords a practical demonstration of the 
 wisdom of the christian law \ but we should be very 
 cautious in pronouncing those, who did not enjoy the 
 illumination of that law, to have been guilty of any crime 
 in not conforming themselves to its dictates. Their 
 practice was rather an error of the judgment, in mis- 
 calculating the true interest of society, than a vice of 
 the heart. On this ground alone can I defend the 
 venerable patriarchs of the ancient church, who are 
 proposed to us in the sacred scriptures as the highest 
 
121 
 
 examples of piety and virtue. In these opinions, likewise, 
 I am supported by the most learned and pious writers of 
 the reformed church, and of the primitive and apostolic 
 age.* 
 
 The law of nature is written on the hearts of all men, 
 and it is interpreted by conscience, enlightened by that 
 portion of reason which we share in common with man- 
 kind. Its genuine principles are learned by collecting 
 those moral sentiments in which all nations have con- 
 curred. By this law chastity is enjoined ; but no precise 
 rule is prescribed with regard to marriage. It is left to 
 the regulation of society, and the public law.f 
 
 * Vide St. Ambrose speaking of the marriage of the holy 
 
 patriarchs St. Aug. contra Faust, lib. 2. c. 47. — Luther, 
 
 Melancthon, Bucer, consultation signed by them and others, on 
 the application of the Landgrave of Hesse in 1539. — Dod- 
 dridge's lectures 189. — Saurin, discourse sur la bible. Tom. 1. 
 disc. 19. p. 296. Ed. Amstel. 1720. 
 
 t Some writers have very foolishly objected, that, if this 
 were the dictate of natural reason, then might the civil law 
 permit a man to connect himself with as many women as a 
 vicious appetite should solicit. As well might any other vice, 
 or folly be imputed to this source. It is supposing that legis- 
 lators may be destitute of all wisdom and virtue. It is suppos- 
 ing that they have no concern lor the interest, and happiness 
 of their wives, sisters, or daughters. It is forgetting that each 
 
 wife must have her family, and her separate maintenance. It is 
 vol. ii. q 
 
122 
 
 It is objected to polygamy that it is unfavorable to the 
 energies of the human mind, and the vigor and perfec- 
 tion of the human body; — that it tends to strengthen 
 licentious inclinations and habits; — that it destroys the 
 
 imagining a consequence which never has happened, and never 
 can happen in civilized society. 
 
 Moses, in some parts, at least, of his matrimonial code, ap- 
 pears to have proceeded on this idea, that it is a subject of 
 civil and political regulation. Therefore we perceive several 
 injunctions and inhibitions evidently founded on his peculiar 
 political institutions. — In one circumstance, for example, a man 
 is forbidden to marry the widow of his deceased brother. In 
 another circumstance, he is commanded to marry her, under 
 the penalty of forfeiting his legal right to the landed estate of 
 his brother, which should devolve to the next nearest male re- 
 lation of the family, who should fulfil the condition of the en- 
 tail. These apparently contradictory regulations sprung out of 
 the agrarian system established by Moses in the land of Israel. 
 He divided the whole territory into six hundred thousand por- 
 tions, according to the number of the families which entered 
 into it under the conduct of Joshua. And he ordained that 
 these portions should descend by entail, or perpetual succes- 
 sion, to the legal heirs respectively of the original families, in 
 such a manner, however, that no man should be allowed to 
 hold two portions either by devise, inheritance, or marriage. 
 If then the deceased had left a son to be the heir of his estate, 
 the surviving brother who stood next the inheritance, was pro- 
 hibited from marrying the widow, probably, for this reason, that 
 no unfair means might be practised to remove the heir. But 
 if he had died without issue, the brother was commanded to 
 marry her, probably, out of a humane attention to her happi- 
 
123 
 
 happiness of the most tender and delicate sex, and 
 nourishes among them the most hateful passions. And 
 on these consequences is built the ulterior conclusion? 
 that polygamy is contrary to the law of nature. 
 
 I have no hesitation to admit as a philosopher, and a 
 christian, that the law of one wife, as prescribed by our 
 blessed Saviour, is most favorable to the interests of 
 human nature, and of civil society. Eut it should be 
 remembered, that, if the eastern nations are, at present, 
 and for a long time have been, inferior in the energies 
 both of body and mind to the people of Europe, this 
 ought not to be ascribed to any single institution, but to 
 the combination of an infinite variety of causes which 
 equally affect all nations in their decline. Once Asia 
 possessed that superiority which Europe now enjoys. 
 And how long is it since Saracens and Turks were an 
 
 ness, and, at the same time, to preserve the lineal descent of 
 the inheritance, otherwise, he was obliged to relinquish his 
 title to the next male relation who should fuiSl the condition. 
 
 These facts may serve to settle the question concerning the 
 lawfulness of marrying two sisters, which has so long agitated 
 Christendom. There can be no natural immorality in marrying 
 two sisters in succession, more than two brothers: but Moses, 
 who had not prohibited polygamy, only prohibited the marrying 
 of two sisters at the same time, lest the jealousies of love 
 should divide those whom the affections of nature had so close- 
 
12i 
 
 overmatch for the combined powers of Europe ? No cer- 
 tain conclusion can be drawn on this subject from such 
 examples. 
 
 Equally uncertain is the next consequence imputed to 
 this patriarchal institution, — that it tends to strengthen 
 licentious inclinations and habits. Judging from the in- 
 terior of the families of the patriarchs, as it is presented 
 to us in the sacred history, nothing can be more un- 
 founded than this reproach. And, if we take our estimate 
 from the general manners of the east, according to the 
 representation of the best informed travellers in Turkey, 
 Persia, and Arabia, the women are distinguished for 
 their modesty and reserve, and the men for the scrupu- 
 lous circumspection of their deportment towards the 
 whole sex out of the precincts of their own families. 
 And, certainly, there is a wide difference, in the effect 
 produced on the heart, between a vagrant commerce 
 with mistresses, and the fixed connexions and duties of 
 marriage formed under the superintendence of the laws, 
 in which the union is permanent, the wife shares in the 
 property and honors of her husband, and both are occu- 
 pied in the modest and laborious cares of a household. 
 The idea of a wife, and of the grave and serious duties of 
 
 ly united. " Thou shalt not take a wife to her sister, besides the 
 other in her life-time^ to vex her." 
 
125 
 
 a family, quenches that lust,* which is only inflamed in 
 the company of a mistress, the mere instrument of 
 vulgar, or voluptuous passion. 
 
 But, omitting every other proof, the principle of the 
 natural unlawfulness of the polygamic institution, derives 
 a more plausible support from the equality which is 
 always found to subsist between the numbers of the re- 
 spective sexes, the males having been found, by the most 
 accurate enumerations, to be nearly in the proportion of 
 thirteen to twelve, to the females, or more exactly, per- 
 haps, of twenty to nineteen. The design of the Author of 
 nature, it is supposed, is evidently indicated by tliis ratio 
 of the sexes, the small surplus on the side of the males 
 being allowed for the greater wastes occasioned by their 
 more hazardous occupations. But polygamy, in effect, 
 destroys this ratio in the marriageable part of the species. 
 — This is the argument ; and it is, certainly, not without 
 the appearance of great force. It may be replied, how- 
 ever, that it is ov 1 ' within a recent period that the fact 
 of this equality has been discovered by the accuracy of 
 modern science — It could not, therefore, even to the 
 
 * From this remark, perhaps, might be excepted the un- 
 limited seraglios of their satraps and princes. Yet the volup- 
 tuousness of these supposed seats of sensuality cannot surpass 
 that of the greater part of the courts of Europe. 
 
126 
 
 wisest men in the patriarchal age, have formed the basis 
 of any known law of nature.* 
 
 From these illustrations it results, that the practice of 
 polygamy, in that age, eould not be charged to those 
 venerable men as a crime against good morals. And its 
 immorality since the coming of Christ, the great moral 
 legislator of the universe, rests chiefly upon his positive 
 institution, supported by the law of the land. Before 
 that period, marriage Avas regarded among all nations as 
 a subject intirely of civil and political regulation. Nor 
 let it be imagined that female honor and safety were, in 
 that case, under an insecure protection ; or that the 
 
 * A better reason in favor of this patriarchal institution, 
 might, in my opinion, be adduced from the following consider- 
 ations; that the distinctions of poverty and wealth which ne- 
 cessarily grow up in society in a course of time, destroy, in 
 effect, that equality between the numbers of the sexes, as far 
 as regards the right of marrying, on which the argument in the 
 text is founded. Many men in society must always be too poor 
 to allow them prudently to marry. Many must evidently be 
 criminal in marrying, with the certain prospect before them of 
 introducing an offspring into the world only to want, misery, 
 and vice. So that what nature had originally made equal' 
 moral causes, which are no less certain in their operation, have 
 again rendered unequal. Hence, among the pious patriarchal 
 princes, the law of marriage, and the right to a plurality of 
 wives, might be regarded by natural reason, as being relative 
 to rank, and fortune; that is, to the ability of maintaining so 
 many families, rather than, strictly, to the ratio of the numbers 
 of the respective sexes. 
 
127 
 
 public sense of crimes against chastity was weak. 
 Moses punished that class of crimes with death. And 
 fathers, husbands, brothers, that is, the entire nation, 
 will always be deeply interested in the honor of their 
 wives, their daughters, and their sisters, and be disposed 
 to guard it by the most energetic laws. Do we see, in 
 effect, that the rights of property are less secure, or 
 esteemed less sacred, because they are established ex- 
 clusively by the civil authority of the state, and take 
 their various modifications from the political views of the 
 legislator ? Is not the man who violates them esteemed a 
 thief, a robber, fraudulent, unjust, and an object not less 
 of public indignation, than of public punishment ? And 
 are the rights of chastity less sacred in the eyes of legis- 
 lators, or less capable of effectual protection ? The law 
 of Christ, indeed, aims at a sublimer degree of per- 
 fection than the patriarchal or Mosaic institutions. And 
 the high authority by which it is enjoined should impose 
 it as an inviolable rule of action on all his disciples ; and 
 the experience of its beneficial influence among christian 
 nations is sufficient powerfully to recommend it to all 
 wise and virtuous legislators. 
 
 OF THE DURATION OF MARRIAGE, AXD OF DIVORCE. 
 
 The next important question on this subject relates to 
 the duration of the marriage contract. Although some 
 
128 
 
 nations in the East have admitted of temporary mar- 
 riages, and the experiment was again tried during the 
 madness of the late revolution in France, yet the evident 
 interests of society, and humanity, require that the union 
 of husband and wife should be permanent during the 
 common life of both. This regulation has been found to 
 impose the most effectual restraint on licentious passions, 
 it is the best security for domestic peace, and for the 
 public order of society, and affords the most powerful 
 motives, and the most favorable opportunities, for the 
 virtuous education of children, in which the undivided 
 efforts of both parents ought to concur. 
 
 The laws of marriage ought to be especially calculated 
 to protect the weakness of the female sex, and to save 
 from outrage the delicacy of their attachments. To this 
 end no principle, perhaps, is better adapted than the 
 perpetuity of the marriage contract. 
 
 But, under this head, the principal enquiry that has 
 occupied civilians and moralists is, whether any causes 
 exist which may, in consistency with virtue and good 
 morals, dissolve this contract, and divorce the parties 
 from each other, after it has been legally formed ? 
 
 Some civilians have unreasonably multiplied the causes 
 of divorce; and others, perhaps with as little reason, 
 restricted them to the single one ofunchastity, or infidel- 
 
129 
 
 ity to the vows of marriage. This restriction they pro- 
 fess to derive from a humane and benevolent decision of 
 our Saviour on a captious question proposed to him on 
 this subject, forbidding a man to put away his tvife, ex- 
 cept for this reason alone. But they do not sufficiently 
 reflect that, in this decision, the great legislator of the 
 church is not prescribing an universal law of divorce, 
 but merely correcting an abuse, which had grown up by 
 time, in the exercise of a power which the laws, or 
 customs, of the country had given to Jewish husbands. 
 They had acquired, or usurped, the iniquitous preroga- 
 tive of dismissing their wives from their families and 
 protection, solely on their own authority, for the most 
 | trivial dislikes, or differences of opinion. This excessive 
 and unjustifiable exercise of an undefined power, he 
 j meant, with that benevolence which characterise- all his 
 j laws, to restrain. It is necessary in interpreting this law, 
 \ to distinguish between the right of repudiation claimed 
 by a Jewish husband, depending, as it did, merely on his 
 own authority and caprice, which is here so justly re- 
 strained by Christ, and the right of divorce, depending 
 on the impartial sentence of the law, which is exercised 
 ; only through the agency, and by the authority of the 
 ! public magistrate. To the former the rule of Christ, 
 which is merely a moral prescription to regulate the 
 
 I conduct of individuals in an important case, applies with 
 vol. ii. K 
 
130 
 
 the greatest humanity. The latter is an object of civil 
 jurisprudence, and is to be governed by the constitution 
 of the judicial department, and the principles of the 
 national system of the administration of justice; and it 
 does not appear that out Saviour designs, in this sentence, 
 to prescribe any rule to legislators, and the organs of 
 the civil law; to whom alone belongs the legal right of 
 exercising the power of divorce. We are at liberty, 
 then, to examine all the causes which have at any time 
 been urged by moral writers as sufficient to dissolve a 
 union which virtue, and a just consideration of the publie 
 good, always intends in its formation to be perpetual. 
 
 But, in this enquiry, it should be laid down as a sound 
 moral and political principle, that divorces ought never 
 to be permitted but in cases of evident and great necessi- 
 ty. Few things contribute more to promote domestic 
 harmony, and to secure justice and kindness to the im- 
 becility of the sex, than the obstacles which the law 
 opposes to a dissolution of the conjugal union. In all 
 causes of difference that may arise between a husband 
 and a wife, when this is known, they must find a strong 
 and mutual interest in concession and moderation. But 
 if this high and sacred union were capable of being dis- 
 solved on slight occasions, those occasions would never 
 be wanting to the vicious. The smallest umbrages would 
 often be magnified into causes of the most cruel injustice- 
 
131 
 
 The condition of perpetuity, besides its beneficial in- 
 fluence on the public morals, is a guard which reason 
 and humanity demand for the security of the weaker sex. 
 If the contract were transient, and uncertain, they would 
 commit their happiness in the most essential points too 
 often to the capricious will of men fickle in their attach- 
 ments, and rendered cruel by some new passiou. 
 
 In one point the laws of all nations have concurred ; 
 that infidelity to the vows of marriage by the dereliction 
 of chastity, is a sufficient ground of dissolving the matri- 
 monial union. This is admitted on a universal principle 
 of law and reason; — that fraud or failure in fulfilling 
 the condition of a contract exonerates the innocent and 
 deceived party from its obligations. In marriage, there- 
 fore, when the rights of one of the parties are alienated 
 and transferred to the possession of another, the contract 
 is violated in its most essential article. And the law may 
 justly grant a divorce to the injured party suing for it j 
 yet on such terms, and this would be an additional 
 security to morals, that the party offending should never 
 enjoy the privilege of marrying again. But although 
 infidelity be a reasonable cause of divorce, the offender 
 ought never to be allowed to plead his own fault in order 
 to obtain a dispensation from the bond of matrimony. 
 Faults ought to be punished, not rewarded. And, how- 
 ever painful the idea of infidelity in a husband, or a wife, 
 
132 
 
 may be to the jealousy of honor, or of love, yet there 
 are situations in which it is preferable to suffer the 
 severest pains of the heart in silence, especially for a 
 wife, than to submit to the consequences of a forced 
 separation. 
 
 Obstinate and continued desertion may, for a similar 
 reason, be esteemed a justifiable ground of divorce, when 
 it can be proved to have taken place without just cause. 
 Such causeless and voluntary desertion defeats the end 
 of the matrimonial contract, and is, as in the former 
 ease, a fraudulent violation, or abandonment of its con- 
 ditions. As in that case, likewise, it would be contrary 
 to good morals to yield to the offending party the right 
 of contracting a new marriage. 
 
 To these causes I scruple not to add habitual intoxi- 
 cation, as defeating the principal ends of marriage ; the 
 happiness of the parties, and the proper care and educa- 
 tion of their offspring. It it be the wife who is addicted 
 to this viee, there can be no security for her fidelity; if 
 it be the husband, his wife can have no defence against 
 the grossness, or inhumanity of his treatment. She be- 
 lieved that she married a man, but she finds herself 
 united only to a brute. 
 
 Cruel and barbarous treatment, on the part of the 
 husband, is admitted by the common law, to be a reason- 
 
133 
 
 able ground of the separation of a wife from his bed and 
 board. It is, in my opinion, an adequate cause of divorce, 
 where it can be sufficiently ascertained to the judgment 
 of twelve competent and impartial men. Inhumanity in 
 the husband, not less than infidelity in the wife, is a 
 violation of all the ends and conditions of the marriage 
 contract. If this be denied, because there is no uncer- 
 tainty in the offspring in the one case, as there is in the 
 other; I answer, that it is a vile and base idea of mar- 
 riage to suppose that it is merely making a woman the 
 vulgar instrument of giving an heir to an estate. 
 
 Other causes have been assigned by different writers, 
 but, apparently, with less reason, as affording sufficient 
 grounds of divorce. Among these has been given great 
 contrariety of temper, which mars the mutual happiness 
 of the parties. This cause is infinitely too vague to be 
 designated in any law with that precision which is 
 requisite to the due administration of justice. But, be- 
 sides this inconvenience, the most ill-disposed would 
 always have too much in their power. Of the general 
 principle a dreadful abuse was made, at one period, 
 during the late revolution in France. 
 
 Certain diseases, supposed to be incurable, have also 
 been enumerated, among the adequate causes of divorce. 
 But, not to mention the difficulty, not to say impossi- 
 
134 
 
 bility of ascertaining what diseases, or whether any, are 
 absolutely incurable, a peculiar cruelty seems to be 
 involved in the principle. After the fortunes, and happi- 
 ness of two persons have become so intimately united 
 together as they are by marriage, is it not most unrea- 
 sonable and inhuman, that because it has pleased divine 
 providence to afflict one with severe disease, the other 
 should possess the power, not only to add to the calami- 
 ty, but to take away from the miserable sufferer, Mho 
 ought to be so tenderly cherished, and protected, the last 
 ray of consolation and hope ? 
 
 The last of these imperfect and inadequate causes of 
 divorce which I shall mention, is mutual consent. — To 
 the willing, it is said, no injury is done. — Consent, I 
 answer, may be a sufficient ground of separation ; not of 
 divorce. Divorce implies the right of marrying again 
 in the party in whose favor it is made. This would often 
 prove too great a temptation to the strongest, or most 
 malignant to harrass the other into consent by intolera- 
 ble vexations. This was also tried in France during that 
 period of confusions, and was found to make confusion 
 only more confounded. 
 
 Individual cases of hardship must undoubtedly arise 
 from a rigid adherence to the principles above laid down. 
 But no tribunal can be constituted in human society 
 
135 
 
 which can be safely vested with the power of suspending 
 the rule, or of judging, in all cases, of its equitable ex- 
 ceptions. Society, like the universe, must be governed 
 by general laws. 
 
 Thus have I treated of the relation of marriage both 
 before, and since the christian sera, as far as respects 
 the equity of the polygamic, or the inonogamic institu- 
 tions, chiefly with the view of rescuing from licentious 
 reproach the ancient worthies of the church, and fathers 
 of our religion. I have endeavored, in the next place, 
 briefly to state the causes which may, at any time, be 
 safely and reasonably pleaded to justify the dissolution of 
 a connexion so sacred, which has once been rightfully 
 formed. 
 
 OF THE CRIME OF AN ILLEGAL COMMERCE OF THE SEXES. 
 
 Having spoken of the marriage contract formed under 
 the sanctions of the civil law, and considered it, as limited 
 by the christian law, to take place between one person 
 only of each sex, I shall now proceed to point out the 
 crime of any clandestine and illegal unions which form 
 the principal offence against this most important of the 
 domestic relations — In proportion as loose and vagrant 
 eonnexions between the sexes, exist, and are justified, or 
 connived at by public opinion, or are pursued by private 
 vice, marriage is regarded as inconvenient and falls into 
 
136 
 
 disuse,* men become profligate and enervated ; women 
 are rendered unhappy and contemptible in proportion as 
 they are dishonored ; and children, growing up without 
 proper example and education, become ignorant and 
 vicious; and, from all these causes, the public morals 
 and the interests of the state suffer deep and irretrievable 
 injury. There is no vice which men appear to be so 
 willing to excuse to themselves ; yet, none in the whole 
 catalogue of crimes, is productive of greater evils to 
 society. The licentious, because they do not immediately 
 suffer from the consequences of their seductions, are 
 found to become unfeeling, cruel, and treacherous. Re- 
 morselessly they leave the victims of their pleasure to the 
 most exquisite sufferings, to infamy, and ruin. If these 
 unfortunate women ever return to a sense of virtue, they 
 are overwhelmed with anguish and shame : but if, as is 
 too likely to be the case, a vicious appetite, or despair 
 from the loss of character, tempt them to a life of pros- 
 titution, a fatal gulph is prepared for the public morals. 
 But who can estimate the cruel injuries done to an un- 
 acknowledged and abandoned offspring, whom the guilty 
 father had no right, for his own pleasure, to bring into 
 existence, in order barbarously to give them up to want, 
 disgrace, and vice ! If violations of property are punished 
 with imprisonment and death, what pains can be too 
 severe for violations of chastity which draw after them a 
 
137 
 
 train of so much more aggravated evils ! It diminishes 
 the guilt but little, that they are, most commonly, com- 
 mitted with the consent of the unhappy sufferer: it is the 
 difference only between swindling and robbery. 
 
 Women, whose frailty deserves compassion, have 
 usually been the sole, or the principal sufferers from this 
 crime, by the natural dangers which grow out of the 
 female constitution, by the severity of public opinion, 
 and their own terrible sensations when left alone to all 
 the consequences of their lost virtue. If the law would 
 ever impose an effectual restraint upon an evil so per- 
 nicious to society, it must subject the aggressor sex, who 
 are chiefly culpable, to some pains equivalent to those of 
 which they become the occasions to their seduced and 
 unhappy companions. 
 
 Men who would reprobate in the strongest manner the 
 arts of seduction employed on tender and inexperienced 
 females in the wealthier and more polished circles of 
 life, too often feel little compunction at corrupting the 
 virtue, and destroying the happiness of women in the in- 
 ferior classes of society. The pride of rank and fortune 
 disqualifies them from sympathising with the feelings of 
 those who are far beneath them, as if their sensibilities 
 were less exquisite, and the loss of character were to them 
 
 a less evil, than to females of better condition. Their in- 
 vol. ii. s 
 
138 
 
 feriority, indeed, renders them more liable to the unprin- 
 cipled attempts of seduction ; but the loss of virtue and of 
 character is not less a source of extreme wretchedness, 
 and often becomes the direful impulsion to abandoned 
 prostitution, and, at length, to the perpetration of th© 
 deepest crimes. When women, in order to guard one 
 virtue, the most difficult and important to be preserved, 
 have collected the whole of female honor into a single 
 point, that it may be the more strenuously defended, if 
 they have been seduced to deliver up this fortress of their 
 fame and character, they commonly abandon with it all 
 their other virtues. And the seducer, who, by vows and 
 protestations, has betrayed too credulous innocence, is 
 chargeable, in the sight of Heaven, with all the anguish, 
 and the guilt which follows. What then must be the" de- 
 gree of that anguish which follows the fruit of unlawful 
 love, when woman, whose maternal feelings are so ex- 
 quisite, who would survey with such pride the infant 
 which sbe could honorably own, who would bend over it 
 with such extacy, who would rush into the midst of 
 flames to rescue it from danger, but, unlawfully become a 
 mother, is often tempted to stille all the feelings of na- 
 ture, and, in a moment of distraction, to remove it forever 
 from her sight, or herself to become its murderer, to hide 
 her own disgrace ! — If the deep aHIiction of a deluded suf- 
 ferer, if the loss of so many pleasures, and so many hopes, 
 
139 
 
 as accompany the innocence of a virtuous woman, if the 
 vices, the shame and misery which follow the dereliction 
 of virtue in the sex, can aggravate guilt, how aggravated 
 must be the guilt of her seducer ! And how base must be 
 the heart of that man who, for a moment of thoughtless 
 pleasure, will hazard the bringing of such evils upon one 
 whom love should cherish, whom honor and generosity 
 should protect ! 
 
 There are men whose honor would shrink from the 
 enormity of bringing disgrace and ruin on the innocence, 
 and the confiding simplicity of a young woman in a 
 decent station of life, who are little scrupulous at se- 
 ducing married chastity. They encourage themselves by 
 the idea that this crime is more secure from the dis- 
 grace of detection, and the foul dishonors which blast 
 the fruits of unlawful love in an unmarried state. — Yes, 
 but it is never perfectly secure. And is it not then 
 greatly aggravated by the dishonor and affliction of a 
 whole family, and by the anguish of a husband robbed, 
 at once, of his honor, and his principal treasure ? No re- 
 ward can purchase back the peace of mind of an injured 
 husband, and father of a family. Death would often be a 
 preferable evil. — But, admitting that the crime could be 
 preserved a perfect secret, is it, in any degree, less a 
 crime on that account ? — The criminality of an action is 
 not to be estimated by the consequences which may hap- 
 
140 
 
 pea to an individual in a particular case, but by those 
 ■which would flow from admitting the principle of such 
 actions as a rule of general conduct. For no individual 
 has a right to have peculiar rules of duty, or peculiar ex- 
 emptions from general rules established in favor of his 
 passions. What then would he the effect of this moral 
 principle, that secrecy, while it protected, also justified 
 an adulterous commerce ? To what jealousies, suspicions, 
 distrusts, infelicities, would it not give rise ? No ties of 
 duty, then, would prevent the rising of a new passion in 
 the breast of a married woman. All domestic confidence, 
 all the harmony of society, would be destroyed. 
 
 The seduction of virgin or of married chastity, con- 
 sidered in the lights in which they have been placed, will 
 generally be condemned by the reason of all men ; there 
 are not a few, however, who justify, or excuse illegal con- 
 nexions with those who have already lost their virtue, or 
 are prepared to make a mercenary sale of it. Although 
 this may appear, to careless observers, to be less culpable 
 than the cases which have been just mentioned, it is, 
 nevertheless, a crime highly pernicious to the public in- 
 terest, and destructive of the moral habits of the people. 
 And a great portion of the species it necessarily renders 
 most worthless and most miserable. Society is deeply in- 
 jured by a practice which effeminates and debauches the 
 manners of its citizens, and, especially, which discourages 
 
14i 
 
 marriage, and prevents the forming of regular and or- 
 derly families, which are the strength of a slate, and the 
 principal source of its prosperity. And certainly no vice 
 more entirely depraves the mind than this low commerce 
 of gross sensuality. It hlunts the fine and delicate percep- 
 tions of the moral sense ; and perhaps the greatest crimes 
 which ever disgraced human nature have taken birth 
 amidst the scenes of loose and profligate pleasure. 
 
 Having pointed out the criminality of any union of the 
 sexes not authorized by the laws, under whatever form it 
 may take place, I conclude with a brief answer to this 
 important moral enquiry ; how far does reason, and a just 
 regard to chastity require that men should impose a re- 
 straint upon their conduct, and their passions ? The rule 
 of the gospel is most conformable to the dictates ofa sound 
 reason, that the guards of virtue ought to be placed upon 
 the heart and the thoughts. It is of the utmost importance 
 to preserve the imagination and the fancy chaste ; it is 
 otherwise in vain to hope to subject the manners, to the 
 laws of modest}' and virtue — a loose wit, indelicate con- 
 versation, lascivious pictures, odes, scenes which tend to 
 inflame the passions, the visions ofa sensual fancy indulged, 
 are culpable in the next degree to actual prostitution. 
 The law of God requires that our thoughts shall not sin ; 
 and the law of reason confirms its dictate. 
 
142 
 
 LECTURE XX. 
 
 ©F THE DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Peculiar duties of parents, present maintenance — educa- 
 tion — provision for future life. — Present maintenance 
 of small importance unless a child be educated in such 
 arts as will enable him to maintain himself, and render 
 him in a great measure independent of the untoivard 
 accidents of life. — Education should respect chiefly the 
 forming of good moral and religious principles. — Ob- 
 jections to this branch of education — the objections an- 
 swered. — Of the rights of parents — of the duties of 
 children — their virtues connected with the national vir- 
 tue, and prosperity. — Interpretation of the fifth com- 
 mand of the decalogue of Moses. 
 
 FROM marriage arise the next important relations 
 of parents and children. Of these it will be necessary to 
 take only a very brief review. The instructions of reli- 
 gion, the laws of our country, and the public sentiment, 
 have left little to be learned on these heads ; and they 
 have been embarrassed by few controversies. 
 
143 
 OF THE PECULIAR DUTIES OE PARENTS. 
 
 As parents have become the occasion of giving an in- 
 voluntary existence to their offspring, they are charged 
 by nature and religion with the care of their happiness. 
 Their general duties, therefore, having always in view 
 this ultimate end, may be comprised under the heads of 
 present maintenance, education, and provision for the fu- 
 ture comfort of life. 
 
 By maintenance is intended subsistence while they are 
 young, and incapable of devising and using the necessary 
 means for their own support. Nature indicates this duty 
 by furnishing, in the breast of the mother, a rich and de- 
 licious nourishment for her infant. She further indicates 
 it to both parents by that strong instinctive propensity 
 which she has implanted in their hearts to cherish, pro- 
 tect, and assist their offspring during the imbecility of 
 infancy. Prompted to this duty by the most powerful im- 
 pulses of nature, there can, certainly, be little merit in 
 fulfilling it ; but, there is, on that very account, propor- 
 tionably greater ignominy and guilt attached to its ne- 
 glect. Accordingly, there are few vices against which 
 deeper detestation is expressed by all men. A mother 
 who abandons her infant in order to pursue her own 
 pleasure, or through defect of natural feeling ; a father 
 who, through indolence, or vice, leaves his child to want, 
 
or suffering, which he might he able, by virtuous exertion, 
 to remove, is justly esteemed Avorse than a barbarian. 
 
 But a parent fulfils only a small part of his duty who, 
 contented with sustaining his children during their feeble 
 and infantile state in his own family, neglects that useful 
 and efficient education which will enable them to make 
 provision for their own subsistence and comfort in future 
 life, and to transmit the same powers to the generation 
 which may succeed them. Whatever fortune a parent, 
 at his death, may leave to his children, he has not ac- 
 quitted himself of the sacred obligation contracted at their 
 birth, unless he has, in a government like ours, in which 
 there is no hereditary nobility, and no entailed wealth, 
 endeavored to render them, by an education correspond- 
 ent to their condition in society, independent on fortune. 
 Often have Ave occasion to behold great and afflicting re- 
 verses in the external circumstances of opulent families, 
 and miserable are they Avho have not been taught with 
 virtuous equanimity to bear them, or who have no re- 
 sources in their own faculties, bodily, or mental, to apply 
 them to other means of subsistence. The mere instinctive 
 affection which leads a parent to maintain his child in 
 idleness, and pleasure, or to supply his pecuniary Avants, 
 far from being a virtue, too frequently degenerates into 
 vice, and becomes a foolish fondness that disappoints its 
 own aim, and when it would raise them to honor, only 
 
1*5 
 
 sinks them into insignificance and contempt. The paren- 
 tal affections, in order to he virtuous, ought to he regu- 
 lated by a firm inflexible sense of moral obligation. It is 
 then only that they become noble and dignified principles 
 of action, and instead of consulting the momentary grati- 
 fications of children, through a fond imbecility of mind, 
 pursue only their more enlarged and durable interests, 
 to which just and prudent restraints become often the 
 most useful, though sometimes the most painful, offices of 
 a wise education. 
 
 Education, even as it respects the humblest orders of 
 society, embraces a field of great importance and extent. 
 Kature has given to man the powers of action, it is edu- 
 cation which directs their operation : — the soil is pre- 
 pared by nature, but the harvest it shall produce depends 
 upon its culture. It is education chiefly which makes 
 man what he is ; whether it be well, or ill conducted. la 
 the idea of education I include not only what is conveyed 
 into the mind by direct and positive instruction, but 
 every impression which is received directly, or inciden- 
 tally, by precept, example, or intercourse with mankind, 
 which contributes to form the character. This opens a 
 wide scope to the attention, circumspection, and care of a 
 virtuous parent. One of the first of parental duties is to 
 
 have children initiated in some useful arts, and trained 
 vox. ii. t 
 
146 
 
 to such Wbits of prudent industry, as are requisite for 
 procuring a sure subsistence through life, without the 
 hazard of falling, at length, as a burden on society, or the 
 temptation of becoming injurious to it. And in the mid- 
 dling and superior classes it is perhaps still more neces- 
 sary to awaken a generous ambition of becoming useful, 
 or of rising to distinction in it by their virtues and their 
 talents. 
 
 But that at which domestic education ought principally 
 to aim, and which is greatly aided by the preceding at- 
 tentions, is the moral and religious cultivation of the 
 heart and manners. To the attainment of this primary 
 object of parental care, it is of high importance that the 
 mind should be early imbued with the principles of piety 
 and virtue ; and that, by a prudent, steady, and dignified 
 discipline, the manners should be formed to a serious res- 
 pect for the institutions of religion, to the exercise of the 
 liumane and benevolent virtues, and to a noble self-com- 
 mand imposed on all the proud, selfish, and licentious pas- 
 sions. By education, skilfully applied, the manners, habits, 
 and sentiments of youth may be formed to almost any 
 standard. But if we do not, in the earliest periods of life, 
 take possession of the mind by good principles, maxims 
 favorable to vicious indulgence will, almost necessarily, 
 take birth amidst the inconsideration and the passions of 
 youth. And if a vigilant and prudent discipline be ne- 
 
1*7 
 
 glected, tliere is infinite hazard of its being led astray by 
 the companions which inexperience, and the thoughtless 
 impulses of pleasure, naturally incline them to select. 
 
 But the best precepts will lose their effect unless they 
 are accompanied by a virtuous and pious example. The 
 principle of imitation is a much more powerful instru- 
 ment of morals in youth than merely depositing in the 
 memory the general maxims of duty. A serious respect 
 to the institutions of religion, a pure and chaste conversa- 
 tion, the example of strict integrity, of warm and active 
 benevolence, of prudent and circumspect manners, espe- 
 cially in the presence of youth, as they are duties of all 
 times, and of all persons, are peculiarly incumbent on 
 parents in the education of their children. It is espe- 
 cially a duty to inculcate upon their tender minds just sen- 
 timents of the Divine Being,— .of his infinite perfection, 
 — of his universal government, — of his moral inspection 
 of the actions of mankind, — and to place before them con- 
 tinually, in an amiable example, the beauty of virtue, the 
 dignity of piety. Unless the law of morals be supported 
 by the force of religious principle, it loses its most pow- 
 erful control over the human mind. 
 
 It requires, however, prudence of conduct, and great 
 amiability of temper, to render religion acceptable to 
 youth, and to derive the full benefit to their manners from 
 
14S 
 
 its influence. There is sometimes a shade of austerity and 
 gloom thrown over the face of piety by its real, but mis- 
 taken friends, which is calculated to alienate rather than 
 allure the young mind, and inspire it with respect and love. 
 True religion is digniiied, serene, and mild ; it invites 
 cheerfulness, while it restrains levity ; it promotes grav- 
 ity, though an enemy to gloom ; and cultivates a noble and 
 manly devotion infinitely distant from the dark and dis- 
 mal countenance of superstition ; and is equally distin- 
 guished for the practice of all the social virtues, as for the 
 serious and decent discharge of all the offices of piety. 
 Religion should ever be made respectable and engaging 
 by the liberality of its spirit, as well as the purity of its 
 manners. 
 
 Some writers, influenced by their antipathy to certain 
 principles of religion in which they had been early initi- 
 ated, and the impressions, or the fears of which after- 
 wards cost them much pains to efface, have run into the 
 opposite and absurd extreme of maintaining that all reli- 
 gious instruction is pernicious, filling the mind only with 
 prejudices, the more difficult to be eradicated because 
 they are so deeply fixed by the force of superstitious fear. 
 The mind, say they, ought to be left free and unembar- 
 rassed by any early prepossessions, to form, in time, as 
 the understanding evolves its powers, its own principles. 
 These writers, in their zeal against religious prejudice* 
 
149 
 
 seem not to have recollected that the young mind, contin- 
 ually receiving the impressions of all objects with which 
 it is surrounded, must necessarily be affected with preju- 
 dices of a different kind, while reason is not yet sufficient- 
 ly mature to form a sound judgment of the opinions, and 
 examples, which are continually soliciting its attention. 
 It will naturally receive a depraved bias from the crude 
 and false sentiments, and the pernicious examples in the 
 midst of which it breathes as in an infected atmosphere ; 
 or ignorance will prepare a soil in which vice or a grov- 
 elling superstition will almost necessarily plant its cor- 
 ruption. From a fair and candid view of these circum- 
 stances, we have just ground to conclude that a moral edu- 
 cation on the principles of a rational piety, or, if this ex- 
 ceed the talents of the parents, conducted on the religious 
 principles of even any regular sect of christians, although 
 it may be mingled with many speculative errors, is infi- 
 nitely to be preferred to those accidental, and, too com- 
 monly, vicious impressions, and habits of thinking, to 
 which uninstructed youth are exposed in their casual in- 
 tercourse with society. 
 
 The next head of parental duty which I have named, 
 regards the provision which a parent should make to as- 
 sist the establishment of his children in the world, or 
 should bequeath to tlujm at his death. But this is neces- 
 sarily affected by so many circumstances that few precise 
 
150 
 
 and definite rules can be prescribed concerning it. Sel- 
 dom, indeed, is there any defect on the part of parents, of 
 a desire to accumulate fortune, and to provide for the de- 
 cent and honorable introduction of their children into life. 
 But this natural and laudable desire is often counteracted 
 in its aims by the stronger love of indolence, ostentation, 
 or pleasure. But no considerations are more important 
 to the happiness of children, and their comfortable pro- 
 vision, than such a judicious economy in the stile of 
 living, as will not accustom them to indulgeneies, and 
 create expectations of a future establishment in life, 
 which must probably be disappointed. Few mortifications 
 are so hard to be borne by the young as the being deprived 
 of customary enjoyments to which all their tastes and 
 habits have been formed ; and being thrown down from 
 that rank in society in which they expected, and have been 
 accustomed to move. And whatever property he may have 
 to bestow upon them at his death, or whatever assistance 
 he may have it in his power to render in his life, the im- 
 partial duty of a parent forbids any capricious distinction 
 in the distribution among his children ; and in a free gov- 
 ernment, the equality and fairness of popular institutions, 
 should discourage any extraordinary rights of primogeni- 
 ture.* 
 
 * An important maxim has existed in several agricultural 
 countries in which are found the simplest forms of civil society, 
 
151 
 
 ©F THE RIGHTS OF PARENTS, AND THE DUTIES OF 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 Out of the obligations of parents to provide for the 
 happiness of their offspring arise, on the one hand, the 
 rights of parental authority, and, on the other, the duties 
 of filial obedience and affection. Some ancient nations 
 appear, from their history, to have invested parents with 
 an extreme authority over their children, a consequence, 
 probably, of the rudeness of their manners, and the de- 
 fect of their civil institutions. The Romans, in the first 
 ages of the republic, made every father a supreme magis- 
 trate in his family, and clothed him with the power of life 
 and death. This was an egregious abuse of the depend- 
 ence of children. No man derives from nature a right to 
 become the occasion of existence to a helpless offspring, 
 only to render them miserable. TJ:e rights of parents 
 spring out of their obligations. Obligation implies every 
 power necessary to give it effect ; and implies only those 
 powers. If, then, it be the duty of a parent, by a prudent 
 education adapted to his condition in life, to prepare his 
 children to be useful citizens, to cultivate their minds in 
 
 that any discrimination in the distribution of a parent's property 
 at his death, should be in favor of the youngest son ; on the idea 
 that he must probably have received the least assistance during 
 his father's life. In this distribution, therefore, the paternal 
 mansion usually passes to him. 
 
152 
 
 virtuous principles, and to form their manners to virtuous 
 habits, he possesses, b\ the law of nature, the right of 
 coni lolling their actions, and directing their pursuits so 
 far as is requisite for the attainment of these ends. And 
 if, before their reason has arrived at sufficient maturity 
 to govern their own conduct with prudence, they cannot, 
 by mild and persuasive means, be induced to apply with 
 diligence to the regular discharge of their duties, he pos- 
 sesses the power of moderate coercion. But coercion, as 
 it ought ever to have in view solely the good of the child, 
 and to be exercised with calmness and dignity, should 
 never be exerted to indulge caprice or passion. Barba- 
 rous corrections are not justified by any rights which na- 
 ture confers on a parent. The utmost penalty to which 
 his lawful power extends, is cutting ofT an incorrigible 
 child from the privileges, and advantages of his family. 
 But to sell his child to slavery, as is practised by some 
 barbarian nations, or to execute upon him capital punish- 
 ment for any real or supposed offence, is abhorrent from 
 the feelings, and an enormous violation of the laws of 
 nature. But during the minority of a child, while his 
 immature judgment, and his inexperience, render him in- 
 capable of consulting, in the best manner, for his own in- 
 terest, the parent, if he be in that situation in life which 
 renders it necessary that he should gain his living by the 
 strenuous exertion of his own talents bodily or mental, 
 
153 
 
 may chuse a profession for his infant, and require him to 
 give his diligent attention to acquire a competent skill in 
 it, that he may he put in possession of an honest and suf- 
 ficient resource for his future maintenance. He may, 
 with the same view, and under the pressure of the same 
 necessity, bind his infant to service for a limited time. 
 But the benefit of the child can never require, and, there- 
 fore, no pretence of this kind can ever justify his being 
 sold to perpetual bondage. We may, perhaps, lay it down 
 as a general rule, that whatever unnecessarily opposes 
 the happiness of a child is not within the rights of a pa- 
 rent. For the same reason, it is not consistent with his 
 duty to consult the wealth and grandeur of one branch of 
 his family, at the expense of the feelings, the comfort, 
 and the reasonable expectations of the others. 
 
 or THE DUTIES OE CHILDREN. 
 
 Nature lays the foundation of the duties of children in 
 
 that strong instinctive affection which attaches the parent 
 
 to his offspring, and which consequently both requires, 
 
 and prompts, on their part, some correspondent return of 
 
 dutiful attachment and love. This principle is greatly 
 
 strengthened by the tedious imbecility, and dependence 
 
 of children on the parent's care ; during which time the 
 
 force of habit, and the continual reciprocation of offices 
 
 of mutual endearment, aid the transition of the affections 
 vol. ii. v 
 
15i 
 
 and augment their attractions on each side. Every pain 
 endured for children, every solicitude called forth by 
 their wants and their dangers, every care bestowed upon 
 them for their protection, their provision, their education, 
 cultivates and increases the parental affection, and de- 
 mands the purest returns of filial duty and submission. 
 And the richest returns a good son can make to a virtu- 
 ous parent is his wise and successful improvement of all 
 the means which parental affection has provided for his 
 own honor and interest. A higher pleasure cannot be en- 
 joyed than that delicious pride which swells the breast of 
 a worthy parent on seeing a beloved son fulfilling his 
 career honorably and usefully ; and a higher delight can- 
 not be tasted by an ingenuous son than the consciousness 
 of imparting this happiness to such a parent. It is a 
 saying of Plutarch,* it is forbidden to do injury to others ; 
 but it is unjust and impious not always to speak and act 
 in such a manner as we know will give pleasure to our 
 parents. And Epaminondas exhibited a genuine example 
 of the principle of filial duty after his celebrated victory 
 at Leuctra, when, amidst the congratulations of his friends, 
 and the applause of all Greece, he said, that nothing in 
 the triumphs of that day gave him so much pleasure as 
 the consideration, that his father and mother, who were 
 poor persons at Thebes, were still living to enjoy his 
 
 * Plut. de amor. frat. 
 
155 
 
 glory. — Such a son will always delight to render his pa- 
 rents happy by his virtues ,• if they are liable to errors, 
 he will study to cover them with the mantle of filial love ; 
 if, sometimes, they betray any weakness or caprice of 
 temper, he will recollect how much they have endured 
 for him ; and, in their declining age, it will be peculiarly 
 grateful to soothe their sorrows, to relieve their necessi- 
 ties, and to repay, in some measure, to their infirmities, 
 the debt of his early years. The Persians, by a law, 
 obliged children to maintain their aged, infirm, and in- 
 digent parents ; a dutiful son needs no law but his own 
 heart. 
 
 All filial duties, however, are so conjoined with a wise 
 and virtuous education on the part of the parent, that, if 
 this is neglected, he loses much of his claim to the affec- 
 tionate obedience and deference of his child through life. 
 A good education in sober, industrious, moral and religious 
 principles and habits, forms the strongest tie which can 
 subsist between parents and children. And filial duty, 
 resting on this foundation, is not only the chief strength 
 of domestic union, and happiness, but the surest basis of 
 all other virtues. It is justly said by Cicero, in his ora- 
 tion for Plancus ; fundamentum est omnium virtutum 
 pietas in parentes.* Not only is it the source of domestic 
 felicity and harmony in individual families, but where 
 
 * The foundation of all the virtues is filial piety. 
 
156 
 
 filial piety and good family discipline, and education, come 
 to be incorporated into the characteristic features of the 
 national manners of any people, — as they are the basis of 
 public virtue, they are commonly the certain pledge also 
 of the public prosperity. These reflections w ill assist to 
 furnish the true interpretation of the fifth command- 
 ment of the Mosaic decalogue, with the annexed promise, 
 which appears to have been often but imperfectly under- 
 stood. " Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days 
 may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God 
 giveth thee.*' This precept and promise is evidently ad- 
 dressed to Israel as a community ; and is founded upon 
 the universal moral order of providence established over 
 the world. Virtuous and well governed families form 
 the basis of public order. A dutiful offspring moulded 
 under an excellent parental education, will, in their 
 purity, hand down the civil and religious institutions of 
 the republic to the following race, and transmit, with 
 the same care, the public manners uncorrupted. Thus 
 does filial duty become the sure foundation of the public 
 virtue, and, with it, of the stability and prosperity of the 
 nation. The full import of this law, with its annexed 
 blessing, then, may be expressed in the following peri- 
 phrasis: — while the families of Israel, and it is true of 
 every other civil community, shall preserve the domestic 
 education tuid discipline prescribed in the national law. 
 
157 
 
 pure, and the youth of the nation shall remain modest, 
 docile, and dutiful, so long shall you continue to flourish 
 as a people, in the laud in which God hath planted you; 
 for so long will continue to flourish those virtues on 
 Which the happiness and stability of nations depend.* 
 
 * It is impossible that this promise should bear a reference 
 to individuals in their separate capacity; because long life has 
 never been the peculiar and exclusive blessing of filial piety, 
 though the stability of nations has been always connected with 
 virtuous men, and national virtue with the modesty and obedi- 
 ence of youth. This command to youth to honor and obey their 
 parents, with this peculiar promise annexed to it, was intimate- 
 ly conjoined with the system of domestic education established 
 among that wonderful people. Nothing can exceed the care 
 and attention of the great legislator of Israel to have all the 
 children of the nation perfectly instructed in their religion, and 
 their duties as citizens and as men, and to institute in every 
 family such a faithful discip.ine as would most effectually se- 
 cure this end. After having formed that wise and extraordina- 
 ry code which embraced the whole compass of their religious, 
 civil, and moral institutions, he adds, under the most solemn 
 
 sanctions : ind ye shall teach them to your children, speaking 
 
 of them when thou sittest in thy house, and when thou walkest 
 by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. 
 And thou shalt write them upon the doorposts of thy house, and 
 upon thy gates. And, for what purpose was all this pious 
 zeal ? — For the same expressed in the commandment just 
 quoted : — that your days may be multiplied, that is, the clays of 
 the nation, and the days of your children in the land which the 
 Lord sware unto your fathers to give them as the days of heaven 
 upon the earth. Evidently implying that, if they should con- 
 tinue to maintain this holy care in the education of their fami- 
 
158 
 
 The duties of children do not cease with their depend- 
 ence. In the breast of an ingenuous child, the remem- 
 brance of a thousand obligations, and a thousand endear- 
 ments, will last through life ; and the filial affections, 
 strengthened by time, reflection, and experience, will 
 display themselves in innumerable and nameless delica- 
 cies of attention to the wants, the infirmities, the wishes 
 of parents ; especially in their declining years, when it 
 often happens that, having lost the greater part of their 
 early friendships, and, with them, their finest relish for 
 life, they have left no other consolations but those of 
 religion, and the affections of their children. 
 
 lies, and their children should grow up under this culture duti- 
 ful and obedient to all their instructions, their national exist- 
 ence and prosperity should be prolonged under the good 
 providence of God, and be co-extensive in point of time, with 
 their virtues. 
 
 Similar ideas with regard to the institution and discipline of 
 youth prevailed in most of the states of antiquity, as long as 
 they preserved the simplicity of their manners, and the energy 
 of their character. As we see strikingly exemplified in Xeno- 
 phon's account of the Persian institutions ; in Livy's history of 
 the manners of the primitive Romans ; and in the picture drawn 
 of the Spartan education by the Abbe Barthelemy. Pythagoras, 
 who borrowed a great part of his institutions from India, es- 
 tablished in his school a noviciate of seven years silence, in 
 which his disciples were permitted only to listen, with respect- 
 ful attention, to the precepts of their master, and to practice 
 the lessons of submission and obedience which were prescribed 
 to them. 
 
159 
 
 LECTURE XXI. 
 
 ON THE RELATION OF MASTER AND SERVANT. 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The true origin of the relation of servant, and master.—- 
 Various ways of becoming subject to service — reciprocal 
 duties of master and servant.— Jit the beginning of the 
 Christian (era, the only servants xvere slaves.— The dif- 
 ference between them—The question, whether slavery be 
 lawful.— The causes which have been alledged for 
 slavery, — crimes, — debt, — captivity. Their insufficien- 
 cy. — The iniquity of the African commerce for slaves : 
 Of slavery in despotic, and in free countries. — The 
 question, whether justice now requires the universal 
 emancipation of the slaves in the United States ; or, 
 whether it can be effected consistently with the public 
 safety. The importance of attempting it, if it be now 
 possible. — The obstacles, however, hardly to be sur- 
 mounted. 
 
 THE next domestic relation which occurs to be con- 
 sidered is that of master and servant. 
 
 In the progress of society, and under the operation of 
 laws which secure to everv citizen the fruits of his own in- 
 
160 
 
 dustry and skill, distinctions in property will necessarily 
 arise. Some, by a well-directed, or fortunate industry, 
 will accumulate wealth, which will enable them to pur- 
 chase the services of others, who, by mismanagement, 
 misfortune, or the want of address, having fallen into pov- 
 erty, will be obliged to sell their labors. This is origi- 
 nally the only reasonable ground on which the relation 
 of master and servant can be founded. It is bottomed 
 upon the principles of all fair and equitable commerce. 
 Labor is a commodity brought into the market; and the 
 price of it must depend on the number of those, on the 
 one hand, who desire to purchase, and of those, on the 
 other, who are obliged to sell. In a contract thus formed, 
 under the supreme guardianship of the laws, the servant 
 is always secured against injustice and oppression. 
 
 A man, through the pressure of poverty, may not only 
 be obliged to give his own services for hire ; but he may 
 reasonably subject his children to a temporary servitude 
 for their benefit. At the same time, he has it always in 
 his power, of which a prudent and humane parent will 
 doubtless avail himself, to secure for them by contract, 
 comfortable provision, and equitable treatment ; and to 
 provide for them such an education as will enable them 
 honestly, and decently, in their station, to obtain their 
 own living, after they shall be restored to their freedom. 
 — If the children of the poor, are neglected by their pa- 
 
161 
 
 rents, or if they have early become orphans, and are likely 
 to fall into want, and, by the infelicity of their situation, 
 to be led into profligate habits, and thus become a charge, 
 or a nuisance to society, society may enter into the rights 
 of parents, or rather, may exert a right inherent in itself, 
 and necessary to its own preservation, and happiness, of 
 disposing, for a limited period, of the service of these 
 children, under equitable conditions, calculated for the 
 mutual benefit of the master, and of the child so bound to 
 service. 
 
 These various ways of forming the relation of master 
 and servant, may all be considered as being founded in 
 contract, in which an adequate price is paid by the mas- 
 ter for the labor of the servant, and the servant repays, 
 by his labor, the benefits he receives. 
 
 The duties of masters and servants may all be summed 
 up in equity on the one hand, and fidelity on the other. 
 If it be asked what equity, or fidelity requires in these 
 relations respectively, I answer, the fulfilment of what- 
 ever lawful engagements are expressly stipulated in the 
 contract, or are reasonably presumed to be implied in it : 
 and these reasonable implications are always to be judged 
 of according to the general and known customs of the 
 country. — I say the fulfilment of all lawful engagements ; 
 
 because no contract for the performance of things in 
 vol. ii. x 
 
162 
 
 themselves unlawful, is obligatory. It contradicts an an- 
 tecedent, aad superior obligation. No power can justifia- 
 bly impose a command which requires the violation of any 
 moral, or religious duty ; and no subordination in rank 
 can justify obedience. 
 
 Servants, notwithstanding the humility of their state, 
 are susceptible of the common feelings of human nature. 
 And although they are secured by the laws against ex- 
 treme oppression, yet their dependence, which may often 
 expose them to the insults of pride and caprice, puts their 
 happiness very much in the power of their superiors. 
 Hence arises a duty on the part of the master, springing 
 out of the general obligations of humanity, to avoid all 
 unnecessary harshness ; all haughtiness and insolence of 
 treatment and demeanor towards his domestics, and to 
 address them, at all times, with such kindness of speech 
 and courtesy of manner, as shall make them, as little as 
 possible, sensible of the disadvantages of their situation in 
 society. 
 
 Another obligation of still superior importance lies on 
 every master, arising out of the universal law of piety 
 and virtue ; and that is, to employ the influence which his 
 station gives him in promoting the good morals of his 
 domestics, and to afford them such means of instruction, 
 and to establish such a prudent discipline in his family, 
 
163 
 
 as will tend to preserve them from the vices, and the 
 temptations to which, hy their state, they are peculiarly 
 exposed. The highest duty which religion and humanity 
 exact of a man whom Providence has placed in such a 
 superior relation, is to protect and promote their virtue ; 
 and in this henevolent and most reasonahle case he will 
 find also his own interest. Xo service is so faithful as 
 that which is governed hy strict principles of morality, 
 and religion. 
 
 "When Christianity first appeared in the world, the re- 
 lation of servant, as it is here explained, nowhere ex- 
 isted. We find in that age only masters and slaves. The 
 mild genius of the christian religion early ameliorated the 
 condition of that unfortunate class of men ; and its benev- 
 olent influence, concurring with other causes in the pro- 
 gress of society in Europe, has at length entirely banished 
 slavery from that highly civilized portion of the globe. 
 
 This abject state of human nature still exists over all 
 the continents of Asia and Africa, and has unhappily been 
 suffered to mingle itself with the original institutions of 
 our own country. A slave is not, like a servant, bound 
 by contract for a limited time, and under specified ar.d 
 reasonable conditions, to perform particular services ; but 
 is the absolute property of his master; and the kind and 
 degree of his services have no other limit than Lis mas- 
 tei's will. 
 
16i 
 
 On this subject a most important moral question pre- 
 sents itself : Is slavery on any ground consistent with the 
 natural laws of justice and humanity ? Three causes have 
 been stated by different moral and political writers as 
 sufficient to justify tbis degradation of human nature :— . 
 
 ciimes, — debt, — and captivity. Criminals of certain 
 
 grades, it is true, may justly be confined to hard labor 
 under the authority of the public magistrate, in order to 
 repair the injuries committed by their crimes, or to in- 
 flict a salutary punishment for such as cannot be repaired. 
 Fraudulent debtors may well be subjected to a similar 
 correction. But it would be cruel to inflict on misfortune 
 a penalty which should be reserved only for crime. Crim- 
 inals of this grade, however, should be regarded only as 
 servants of the public, and never subjected to the power 
 of injured individuals. If creditors were to be constituted 
 the masters, it would be necessary to confer on them such 
 rigorous rights as could not fail to offend against human- 
 ity, and would afford the most dangerous examples in a 
 free country. It was a barbarous law of the Romans 
 which subjected the person of the debtor to the absolute 
 power and will of the angry creditor. The enormous 
 abuses to which it gave rise produced its repeal among a 
 people by no means distinguished, at that period, for the 
 humanity of their character. 
 
165 
 
 Captivity, which has, in all ages, and in all countries, 
 except among the modern nations of Europe, been the 
 most universal cause of slavery, is the most unjust title 
 of all to the servile subjection of the human species. It 
 is cruel to avenge on individuals the injuries of their 
 nation, or rather of its government. In civilized warfare 
 generous foes will inflict no other evils on an enemy than 
 such as they conceive to be necessary to bring the public 
 hostilities to a just and successful termination. It is 
 even good policy to treat prisoners with the greatest 
 lenity which is consistent with their safe-keeping. An 
 enemy will fight with less obstinacy against a humane 
 nation. And captives, when permitted to labor for hire 
 in their respective arts, or in the cultivation of the 
 ground, may supply, in some measure, the deficiency of 
 hands created by enlistments in the army. But to reduce 
 them to slavery is contrary both to justice and humanity. 
 Yet captivity in war was almost the sole ground of that 
 extensive slavery which disgraced the policy of the 
 Greeks and Romans, and of the barbarous rights exer- 
 cised over their slaves. It was a principle with them 
 that the conqueror had always the cruel right of putting 
 an enemy to death; whence they concluded, with stronger 
 reason, that he possessed the milder right of reducing 
 him to slavery. The principle is false, and the con- 
 clusion inhuman. No law of just and generous warfare 
 
166 
 
 authorizes the victor to put to death a disarmed and un- 
 resisting enemy. 
 
 Still more iniquitous is that barbarous policy which 
 excites wars among the ignorant and savage tribes of 
 Africa, with the view of purchasing for slaves the 
 wretched captives. Indeed the whole of the African 
 trade for slaves, in its principles, in its conduct, in the 
 miseries it has introduced into an extensive region al- 
 ready too miserable; and in the-cruel mode in which 
 these unhappy wretches, after being torn from their 
 country, are pinioned down in the holds of the vessels 
 which convey them to the remotest parts of the earth, 
 to be sold like brutes to perpetual bondage, is among the 
 most atrocious inroads upon justice and humanity which 
 have ever been practised in any age, or by any nation. 
 The pretences which are made to justify it are as im- 
 pudent, as the traffic is inhuman — that a civilized peo- 
 ple have a right to compel such ignorant savages to labor 
 for their convenience and pleasure*-— that a people pos- 
 sessing the knowledge of the true religion may lawfully 
 seize such gross and stupid idolaters, and transport them 
 
 * Such were the imperfect ideas of morality which pre- 
 vailed among the most enlightened nations of antiquity, that 
 Aristotle maintained that a civilized fieojile has a natural right 
 to make war ujion barbarians, and, consequently, to reduce 
 them to slavery. 
 
167 
 
 to a country where they may be better instructed;* 
 when, God knows, even this hypocritical pretence never 
 enters into the views either of the slave-merchant, or 
 the purchaser. — But a more plausible palliative for the 
 practice is the idea that many of these unhappy men 
 were slaves in their native country; and that all must 
 have been more miserable at home, half-famished amidst 
 their burning and barren sands, and subjected to a dark 
 and bloody despotism, than they can be in a mild and 
 plentiful region, among a people of polished manners. 
 This is making the prejudices of our self-love the judge 
 of their happiness, while at the same time, our own in- 
 terest is the advocate. — There is no country, however 
 severe the climate, and however barren the soil, from 
 which a native is not unhappy to be exiled. The ideas, the 
 habits, the pleasures of men, are all inseparably blended 
 with the scenes, with the society, with all the objects 
 which have been familiarized to them in the country 
 which gave them birth. A Laplander prefers his snows 
 and rocks to the most cultivated landscapes of France 
 or England. An American savage perceives more de- 
 light in his solitary wilds, and even in the ashes of his 
 
 * This was a principle of the Romish Church in the grossest 
 ages of her superstition : and on the pretence of this detestable 
 principle, the Spaniards exterminated, or reduced to the most 
 abject condition of servitude, the miserable natives of Mexico 
 and Peru. 
 
168 
 
 wigwam, than he would in the most splendid apartments 
 of a palace. — Men deceive themselves continually by 
 false pretences, in order to justify the slavery which is 
 convenient for them. 
 
 There are countries, indeed, in which the very cor- 
 ruption of the government has rendered slaverj' necessa- 
 ry ; and where it is so congenial with all the political 
 and civil institutions and habits of the people, that it 
 seems to lose the injustice of its nature. In a des- 
 potism, every grade of the community is already en- 
 slaved, and the prince himself is the slave of his slaves. 
 Slaves here are not relatively that degraded race of 
 beings which they necessarily must be in free states. 
 They attain a degree of consequence from their utility to 
 indolent and voluptuous lords, all whose affairs they are 
 accustomed to manage; whose interest and pleasures are 
 almost wholly in their power. The poorer classes of the 
 people, in these countries, often rush to slavery with 
 eagerness as their protection from worse evils. No con- 
 dition is so oppressed and abject among them as that of 
 a poor freeman in the vicinity of a rich lord. He is 
 liable, from the insolence of power, to the most unjust 
 encroachments on his rights, and the most humiliating 
 insults in his person. But, when he foregoes his wretch- 
 ed freedom, for the privilege of slavery to some wealthy 
 
169 
 
 satrap, interest often leads his mercenary master to pro- 
 tect him. 
 
 In a free country, on the other hand, the poorest man 
 is protected by the laws ; and between a freeman and a 
 slave, there is such a wide distinction, that the slave, by 
 comparing his state with that of a citizen, a comparison 
 which continually meets his view, must feel his condition 
 to be peculiarly humiliating and degraded. 
 
 The cruel and mercenary policy of those commercial 
 nations in Europe who planted colonies in the new world, 
 gave birth to that trade in African slaves, which, on the 
 score of its injustice and inhumanity, merits the strongest 
 reprobation. Hence the origin of that extensive system 
 of slavery which exists in several of the United States. 
 — But here our enquiries must receive a new direction. 
 Is that slavery which was unjust in its origin, equally un- 
 just in its continuance ? All men condemn the barbarity 
 of dragging the simple Africans from their native coun- 
 try. But America is the country of their descendents, and 
 it would now be equally cruel to tear them from the soil 
 in which they have grown up, and to send them back to 
 Africa.* Servitude is undoubtedly a hard lot to the sen- 
 
 * And their general and indiscriminate emancipation, as we 
 shall shew in the progress of the lecture, would be attended 
 with many, and almost insuperable difficulties. 
 vol. ii. Y 
 
170 
 
 nihilities of freemen ; but the habits and ideas of these 
 people being accommodated to it from their infancy, it 
 does not press with the same severity upon their feelings. 
 And hard as their lot appears to be, it cannot be denied 
 to be preferable in every thing, except the sense of liberty, 
 to what it would have been, born of the same parents in 
 the original country of their race. But that precious 
 sense of liberty, renders tolerable to the savage poverty 
 and wretchedness, the most barren sands, and the most 
 howling wilderness. To confer on our American slaves, 
 therefore, a privilege so dear to human nature ; and other- 
 wise, as far as possible, to ameliorate their condition, are 
 certainly objects, worthy a humane legislation. But our 
 generous feelings may sometimes rush too precipitately 
 to their end, as well as worse passions. And, in accom- 
 plishing this benevolent work, if it can be accomplished 
 at all, in those states into the constitution and manners 
 of which slavery is most deeply incorporated, great pre- 
 caution must be used not to render their emancipation a 
 worse evil than their servitude.' — But, in the first place, 
 private justice on the one hand, and on the other that 
 natural selfishness which infallibly regulates the councils 
 and decisions of the great bodies and communities of 
 mankind,* will oppose insuperable difficulties to its cxe- 
 
 * Individuals may Frequently be found who are capable of 
 rising above every selfish consideration. This is seldom the 
 
 
irt 
 
 eution The citizens of those states hold a property in 
 
 slaves to a very large amount, acquired under the sanc- 
 tion of the laws. The laws, therefore, could not equita- 
 bly compel them to make a sacrifice of so great value, to 
 the convenience and comfort of any class of men. And 
 neither justice nor humanity requires that the master, 
 who has become the innocent possessor of that property . 
 should impoverish himself for the benefit of his «lave. 
 On the ground of compassion for this degraded race, I do 
 not know that the present holders are exclusively called 
 upon to suffer the loss which must be incurred by a gen- 
 eral emancipation. — One mode, indeed, has been sug- 
 gested, in which it is conceived that the demands of jus- 
 tice on the part of the master, may be reconciled with the 
 wishes of benevolence with regard to the slave ; and that 
 is, by making an equitable estimate of the value of each 
 slave, and of the value of his labor for a year, in conse- 
 quence of which, the state might bind these slaves to 
 their present masters, as in other eases of bound servants, 
 for a term of years, to be calculated from the preceding 
 estimates ; after which they would naturally pass to the 
 enjoyment of liberty. To this might be added a law de- 
 claring all who should be born in a servile condition after 
 
 case of men acting together in a mass. Therefore we so often 
 see the hardest and most cruel things done by such bodies with- 
 out any compunction. 
 
172 
 
 the passing of that act, free after a certain age ; only al- 
 lowing sufficient time by their labor to recompence their 
 masters for the expense of their maintenance in child- 
 hood. — All that could be said of such a law would be that 
 it would be less unjust than one proclaiming an immediate 
 and universal emancipation. What free people would al- 
 low their legislators to dispose, in the same manner, of 
 any other portion of their property ? — But if it were free 
 from every objection on that head, great and numerous 
 difficulties would oppose themselves to its execution : dif- 
 ficulties which will not readily suggest themselves, per- 
 haps can hardly be conceived by men who have not, at 
 sometime, been familiar with the institutions of slavery, 
 and witnessed their effects on the habits, ideas, and whole 
 state of society. One difficulty only I will mention, which 
 a prudent policy, always attentive to the public safety 
 and tranquility, will naturally oppose to such a general 
 manumission as is here contemplated. No event can be 
 more dangerous to a community than the sudden intro- 
 duction into it of vast multitudes of persons, free in their 
 condition, but without property, and possessing only the 
 habits and vices of slavery. Theft, plunder, and violence, 
 would become common modes of supplying their wants, 
 among a people who had been used to labor only through 
 compulsion, and whose servile principles would take off 
 the shame of the basest actions. Delivered from their 
 
former restraints, they would become idle and profligate. 
 Few of them willing to labor, and fewer finding regular 
 and constant employment, or receiving wages sufficient 
 to support them and their children j* they would often 
 seek their provision by plunder, and often by corrupting 
 the fidelity of the slaves. In the natural progress of events, 
 therefore, Ave should soon see property every where in- 
 vaded, public safety disturbed, and even domestic peace 
 and security constantly endangered. 
 
 From these, and many other causes, it will be evident 
 that the emancipation of the African race in the United 
 States, if it ever be accomplished, must necessarily be the 
 slow and gradual work of time ; but as it is an event ar- 
 dently desired by the friends of humanity and liberty, the 
 laws perhaps ought to attempt it. Yet in this attempt they 
 will certainly have a most delicate and arduous task to 
 perform ; to facilitate manumission, and yet guard against 
 the evils to which it is exposed ; to encourage the ideas 
 of universal liberty, and yet check the indiscreet benevo- 
 lence of certain owners of slaves who, either during their 
 life, or at their death, may be disposed to emancipate 
 them, as an act of extraordinary merit, without having 
 made provision to render that liberty useful to the slave, 
 
 * This -would necessarily be the case, as long as slavery still 
 subsisted ; the free would seldom be employed while the mas- 
 ter could be served by his slaves. 
 
174 
 
 or safe to the public ; that is, indeed, to throw on society 
 a multitude of idle dependents, with a mass of servile 
 vices, which no citizen has a right to do, either for the 
 mistaken relief of his conscience, or the display of his 
 vanity. In a word, the laws ought, perhaps, to hold out 
 the hope, and the means of freedom to all, yet so as, if 
 possible, to admit those only to a participation of its pri- 
 vileges who shall have previously qualified themselves 
 by good moral and industrious habits, to enjoy it in such 
 a manner as to be beneficial to themselves, and to the 
 state. 
 
 For this end might not the laws favor the granting of 
 a certain pccuUum* to slaves, to be employed wholly for 
 their own benefit, which might be sufficient to produce, 
 in a course of years, longer or shorter according to the 
 industry and skill of each slave, a revenue, adequate to 
 the purchase of his own freedom ? In order to impose a 
 proper check upon the avarice of masters, a certain method 
 might be fixed by law, by which the price of any slave 
 should be determined. This sum the most rigorous mas- 
 ter should be obliged to accept. A benevolent master 
 would often forego it in consideration of the former 
 
 * By this fieculiu?n is intended a certain portion of ground 
 allotted to the slave for his own exclusive labor, and a reason- 
 able portion of time allowed him each day, or each week, to 
 cultivate it, and to bring into the market the product of his in- 
 i • v for his own benefit. 
 
175 
 
 services rendered by his slave. It would then become a 
 small* but valuable fund ou which to commence a new 
 course of industry, and with which to animate and assist 
 his opening hopes. In this way liberty would be within 
 the reach of all who possessed health, and a proper dis- 
 position to labor. Those who should be too indolent to 
 purchase it, would not deserve it; and if it were bestowed 
 on them, would abuse it. This seems to be the most 
 probable means by which slaves can be introduced to the 
 possession of freedom with such good habits as shall be 
 at once useful to themselves, and not dangerous to the 
 public order and safety. On this principle the claims of 
 justice, and of a wise benevolence might be equally satis- 
 fied. None would be excluded from the reasonable hope 
 of liberty, but the idle and undeserving; and they, no 
 longer than till they should render themselves worthy to 
 possess it.* 
 
 * Such an institution might be the more easily carried into 
 effect in many of the southern states ; because, so mild is the 
 form of slavery there at present, that it is customary to exact 
 of any field slave only a definite portion of labor in the day, 
 called a task. This task is a small square of ground marked 
 out by the overseer in the morning, which is equal for each 
 slave, and is usually calculated according to the strength of the 
 weakest hand in the field. To cultivate this is all that is re- 
 quired in the day. The strongest hands often finish their tasks 
 before the middle of the afternoon. They then voluntarily help 
 the weaker, if they have any particular friendships. If not, the 
 
176 
 
 One danger would probably arise from liberty obtained 
 even in this way. The prejudices which exist against a 
 union of the whites with the blacks, would render it im- 
 possible to amalgamate the two races. The free blacks, 
 retaining that habitual sense of inferiority acquired in ser- 
 vitude, and nourished by the supercilious contempt of the 
 whites, would naturally throw themselves into the society 
 of the slaves. Such an association would be injurious to 
 both. It would impair the motives which should prompt 
 the freed man to aspire to respectability by his property 
 and his virtue ; it would weaken the subordination, and 
 corrupt the submissive duty of the slave. — One provi- 
 sion alone occurs to me to prevent this evil ; and that is, 
 assigning a large district out of the unappropriated lands 
 of the United States, in which each black freed man, or 
 freed woman, shall receive a certain portion of land in 
 absolute property, together with such privileges as would 
 induce them to prefer a settlement in the new territory to 
 remaining in the vicinity of their former servitude. In 
 order to bring the two races nearer together, and, in a 
 course of time, to obliterate those wide distinctions which 
 are now created by diversity of complexion, and which 
 
 overseer, or the master demands no more of them till the next 
 morning. What an admirable opportunity, together with other 
 portions of time which are already allowed them, for relaxation 
 or amusement, to improve a pcculium ! 
 
177 
 
 might be improved by prejudice, or intrigue, to nourish 
 sentiments of mutual hostility, every white man who 
 should marry a black woman, and every white woman 
 who should marry a black man, and reside within the ter- 
 ritory, might be entitled to a double portion of land. And 
 the magistrates, for a considerable period, ought all to be 
 appointed from the white nation. 
 
 But, other regulations upon this subject, and other ad- 
 vantages to be derived from the institution, it is not, per- 
 haps, necessary to endeavor further to point out. I fear 
 that neither the general government, nor the governments 
 of the individual states, will feel themselves under any 
 obligation to make great sacrifices in order to deliver this 
 humiliated race of men from the bondage which at pre- 
 sent degrades them, and to raise them in time to the true 
 dignity of human nature, in a state of liberty, and self- 
 government. 
 
 It is of high public concern that slavery should be 
 gradually corrected, and, at length, if possible, entirely 
 extinguished : for wherever it is incorporated with the 
 institutions of a republic, it will be productive of many 
 moral, and political evils. And where the citizens are not 
 constantly occupied in the industrious pursuits of agri- 
 culture, or the exercise of arms, as was the case at Sparta, 
 
 and at Rome, it tends to introduce general habits of indo- 
 voi. ii. z 
 
178 
 
 lenee and indulgence, the fruitful source of a thousand 
 other vices, which corrupt the energies of society, and 
 enfeeble its defensive force. 
 
 There is another view in which good policy requires 
 that those states, in which the number of slaves greatly 
 exceeds the free population, should adopt measures to di- 
 minish that disproporlioned excrescence so dangerous to 
 the political body. The time must come when these slaves 
 will feel their force \ and there will not be wanting among 
 them men of a daring and enterprising genius to rouse it 
 into action, to the great hazard of the public safety. 
 Every revolt, and even every appearance of an insurgent 
 and seditious spirit among the slaves, must subject them 
 to new severities ; and severity will multiply revolts. 
 Slavery is preparing at some future period, much indivi- 
 dual misery, and frequent and dangerous convulsions for 
 the republic. It is a volcano which sleeps for a time 
 only to burst at last upon the unsuspecting tranquility of 
 the country with a more terrible destruction.* 
 
 O masters ! treat your slaves, while slavery is suffered 
 to exist, with all the mildness of which the necessary state 
 of servitude admits ; attach them to you by love ; imbue 
 
 * The servile war at Rome was one of the most dangerous 
 which ever agitated that republic ; and we have lately seen with 
 horror the convulsions of St. Domingo. 
 
179 
 
 their minds in earliest youth with the principles of good 
 morals ; admit freely to instruct them those teachers of 
 religion, of whatever denomination, who will take pains to 
 adapt religious ideas to their measure of understanding, 
 and impress them on their hearts. The more 01 religious 
 principle and feeling can he introduced among them, the 
 greater security will you have for your own safety, and 
 the safety of the republic. 
 
ISO 
 
 LECTURE XXII. 
 
 OF POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, OR THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
 LEGISLATION. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Of jurisprudence. — Of rights, and their divisions. — Of 
 property, and the different ways in which it is lawfully 
 acquired. Of property in land — of separate and ex- 
 clusive property — the benefits of this institution — the 
 jirinciples which govern the original distribution of 
 property — and its transfer — of occupancy — of labor — • 
 of the inviolability of properly. 
 
 HATING, hitherto, taken a survey of the constituent 
 principles of human nature, of the general heads of 
 morals, of natural theology, and of economies, I proceed 
 to present to you a concise view of the rights, privileges, 
 and duties of men in a state of civil society; together 
 with the principles on which civil society is constituted, 
 and governs its operations. Plato appears to have heen 
 the first who thus connected the doctrines of civil policy 
 with those of morals. But, since his time, the example 
 has heen followed hy many eminent writers ,• especially 
 among the philosophers of modern times. In republican 
 governments it is peculiarly incumbent on those who 
 
181 
 
 conduct the liberal pursuits of youth, to introduce them 
 to some acquaintance with the general principles of civil 
 policy. Talents and knowledge ought always to he held 
 at the requisition of the republic ; and the more the prin- 
 ciples of true political science are diffused by men of 
 letters through the body of the state, the more favorable 
 prospects will be opened to her for the stability of her 
 government, and the wisdom of its administration. It is 
 not expected that, in such an elementary course of studies 
 as is here pursued, in which the first principles of so 
 many branches of knowledge are to be acquired in the 
 short period of two or three years, you should have it in 
 your power to cultivate an extensive acquaintance with 
 the practical doctrines either of jurisprudence, or of civil 
 policy. All that we can aim at, in this limited time, is to 
 propose to you such simple and general principles, and 
 open to your minds such a regular and comprehensive, 
 but brief view of the whole science, as will enable you 
 hereatter to pursue it to such extent as either your in- 
 clination may prompt, or your public duties may require. 
 
 This science, which may be denominated political phi- 
 losophy, or the philosophy of legislation, is naturally di- 
 vided into three parts, consisting, first, of the rules which 
 regulate the conduct of men towards one another in a 
 state of society, and the means of enforcing those rules. 
 Secondly-— the rules, or principles which give the form 
 
182 
 
 to the society itself, and which direct its operations.— 
 And lastly, — the rules which should govern the conduct 
 of independent societies, or states towards one another.— 
 The first, compose the science of jurisprudence. — The 
 second, that of politics. — And the third, that of public 
 law, or the laiv of nature and nations. 
 
 OF JURISPRUDENCE. 
 
 The rules of conduct of man towards man in a state of 
 civil society must he founded on their rights, either de- 
 rived from nature, or resulting from the will of the so- 
 ciety — Jurisprudence, therefore, consists of two parts, — 
 of which the first ascertains and defines the rights of 
 men ; the second relates to the legal and authorized 
 means of defending those rights. 
 
 OF RIGHTS. 
 
 A right may be defined to he the just claim which any 
 person possesses to the free use, and full enjoyment of a 
 thing, which no other person can justly use, possess, or 
 change without his consent ; and which may be main- 
 tained, or defended by force, or by any other means which 
 may be, at once, necessary and effectual for the purpose. 
 — Bight is a term often used to express a property of ac- 
 tions, as well as a privilege belonging to persons. Thus 
 we say a magistrate has acted right in punishing an of- 
 fender : in which application it implies the conformity of 
 
183 
 
 an action to some moral rule of conduct, or to the obliga- 
 tion of some duty. 
 
 Obligation is the correspondent term to right, and ex- 
 presses the principle, or ground of some duty to be ful- 
 filled towards those who have a right to claim it. When 
 any man is possessed of rights either natural, or acquired, 
 it becomes the duty of other men, or, they are under ob- 
 ligation, to respect them. Whence, ascertaining the 
 rights of mankind, whether resulting from natural law, 
 or from the compacts of society, is a necessary founda- 
 tion for prescribing to citizens the rules of their conduct 
 respectively to one another. 
 
 Wrong, is the violation of any right. And the law of 
 defence, which is intended for the security of the citizens 
 in the tranquil possession of the blessings of society, re- 
 lates to the means of preventing, — repelling, — or repair- 
 ing wrongs. 
 
 DIVISION OF RIGHTS. 
 
 Bights may be divided in different ways ; according to 
 their degree,- heir objects, — or their sources. In the 
 first view, i ..ey are perfect, or imperfect ; alienable, or 
 unalienable. In the second, they are personal or real. 
 And, in the third, natural, or adventitious. 
 
 Perfect rights are those which, being clear and deter- 
 minate, a man may employ force to obtain, or defend, ei- 
 
18* 
 
 tker by himself, if the violence is sudden and urgent, and 
 redress cannot await the tardy decisions of a judicial 
 process, or, in ordinary cases, by the tribunals, and the 
 executive power of his country ; which society, for all 
 common and general purposes of defence, has substituted 
 in the room of personal force, — such are the right to life, 
 the right to personal safety, the right to property. 
 
 Imperfect rights respect objects to which a man has a 
 just claim ; but the fulfilment of them society seldom at- 
 tempts to enforce by any law. Rights of this degree are, 
 in general, strongly founded in the principles of nature, 
 and the dictates of religion ; but they are so indefinite in 
 their limits, that they can rarely be marked with suffi- 
 cient precision in human laws to be submitted to the de- 
 cision of civil tribunals. They are, therefore, left to the 
 laws of religion, and conscience, which alone can pre- 
 scribe, in their full extent, the duties resulting from 
 them, and add to them an eiTeetual sanction. Such are 
 the rights which a parent possesses to dutiful submission 
 from his children, and a grateful return for the pains and 
 affection bestowed upon them in early life ; and to provision 
 and protection if it should become necessary, in his old 
 age. Such, reciprocally, is the right of children from 
 their parents, to nourishment, assistance, and an educa- 
 tion adapted to their station in society. The poor, who are 
 unable to provide tor their own subsistence, have a right 
 
185 
 
 of the same kind, by the law of charity, to necessary as- 
 sistance, and comfort, from those who have it in their 
 power to aid them. To this class, likewise, is referred 
 the right which a worthy candidate for any office of civil 
 trust, possesses to the suffrages of his fellow citizens. 
 These rights may exist, foro conscientice ; and, in the 
 general opinion, may be as clear as they are important ; 
 yet, wanting that precision and determinateness which is 
 required in the objects of all laws under a free govern- 
 ment, if they are withheld, compulsion can seldom be ap- 
 plied to enforce them. This is the meaning of imperfect 
 rights on the one hand, and on the other, of imperfect and 
 corresponding obligations ; not that they are less binding 
 on the conscience, or in the view of the Supreme Judge 
 of the universe ; but that they are not the objects of com- 
 pulsory enforcement at human tribunals. — Hence civil 
 laws embrace in their consideration, only the perfect 
 rights of men in society ; the laws of morality extend to 
 both. 
 
 Another division of rights is into alienable, and unalien- 
 able. — The former embrace such as by their transferable 
 nature can, and by their legal tenure may lawfully be 
 transferred to others. Such are the rights which men 
 
 hold in most kinds of property. But if the property be 
 
 # 
 limited by contract, or conveyance to the person occupy- 
 vol, ii, a a 
 
186 
 
 ingit, or be made to depend on any personal condition to 
 be fulfilled by him alone, it then becomes unalienable. 
 —The latter consist of those rights, the possession, or ex- 
 ercise of which cannot, by their nature and tenure, or by 
 the laws of morality ought not, to be transferred to others. 
 Of the former kind, is the right of a magistrate in his 
 office, the right of opinion in religion ; of the latter is 
 the right of a man over his own life, the right over any 
 trust committed to a person in behalf of another, the rights 
 of a husband, or a father. Some respectable writers, with 
 a warm, and perhaps precipitate zeal, have ranked the 
 rights of civil liberty in the class of those that are un- 
 alienable. And, it certainly argues a degenerate spirit in 
 a freeman to be willing without extreme necessity, to 
 abandon the privileges of civil liberty ; and the treachery 
 of a few who have been base enough to sell their own 
 freedom, involving, at the same time, the honor and hap- 
 piness of multitudes whom they had no right to injure, 
 has always received, as it deserved, the deepest detesta- 
 tion ; yet cases may be imagined, as that of the people of 
 Sweden or Denmark, after they found it impossible to 
 reform the.evils of their aristocratic government, in which 
 they were justified in resigning their liberties into the 
 hands of their sovereign, in order to deliver themselves 
 from the more atrocious despotism of a multitude of petty 
 lords. 
 
1S7 
 
 Rights, in the next plaee, may be divided, as their ob- 
 jects vary, into personal and real. 
 
 Personal rights relate to such things as constitute the 
 nature and well-being of persons, which, in the eye of the 
 civil law, are two-fold, — natural and artificial. By the 
 former are meant individual men ; and by the latter, cor- 
 porations, or bodies-politic. The personal rights of indi- 
 viduals respect the safety, preservation, and proper use of 
 their powers and faculties, either bodily or mental. The 
 rights of corporations respect the integrity, and preser- 
 vation of their members, their forms, and their laws. If 
 any other person, or body, possessed the prerogative of 
 disqualifying the individual members of such a chartered 
 institution, or interfering with their forms of proceeding, 
 or the laws established for conducting their own affairs, 
 it would destroy, with their existence, all the beneficial 
 purposes of their creation. 
 
 Real rights relate to such things as constitute the external 
 state of a person, the use and direction of which no other 
 person can justly exercise, or claim. They may be refer- 
 red to two principal heads, property, and power ; and are 
 the same with those which will, hereafter, be enumerated 
 under the class of adventitious rights. 
 
 Some writers add to the preceding heads, the light of 
 possession, when laid upon a subject not antecedently ap- 
 
188 
 
 propriated. Butpossession implies merely a transient pro- 
 perty arising from actual occupancy and use, and contin- 
 uing no longer than that use exists. Thus in a common, 
 a man, by virtue of possession enjoys a certain property 
 in that portion of it on which he is actually pasturing his 
 cattle. A fisherman enjoys the right of possession over 
 that part of a river, or lake which he occupies with his 
 seine. The same kind of property barbarian and savage 
 tribes enjoy in those extensive and uncultivated territories 
 which they continually use for their subsistence by hunt- 
 ing, or the actual range of their flocks. 
 
 The last division of rights which we make is, accord- 
 ing to their sources, into the natural and adventitious, or, 
 those which result from the constitution of human nature, 
 and those Which accrue from the necessities and conven- 
 tions of society. Most of the natural rights of man are the 
 same with those which have already been mentioned un- 
 der the title of personal, such as a right to life, and lib- 
 erty ; to a free use of a man's own powers, and talents ; 
 to a participation of the common benefits of air and water 5 
 and to the entire control over the products of his own la- 
 bor or skill. A parent has, likewise, a natural right of 
 authority over his infant child. All other examples of 
 power, and of property, belong to the class of adventi- 
 tious rights. - 
 
189 
 
 Adventitious rights are such as, not belonging origi- 
 nally and universally to man, from the constitution of his 
 nature, accrue to him only in consequence of the conven- 
 tions of society. They refer to whatever may be conferred 
 by the will of others, or may be acquired by compact 
 with them ; and are comprehended under the heads of 
 property, or the right to permanent and exclusive use and 
 enjoyment ; and poiver, or the right to command the obe- 
 dience, and control the actions of other men. 
 
 It is an object of importance in the science of jurispru- 
 dence to point out the means by which men may justly ac- 
 quire the rights either of property, or of power. 
 
 OF PROPERTY. 
 
 Since the earth, and its natural products, must have 
 been originally common, and all men had an equal right 
 to improve the soil, or to gather its fruits, for their own 
 benefit, it becomes amoral, and a civil question of some 
 interest, whence arises the right of parcelling out the 
 surface into separate and exclusive property ? And how 
 far may that right justly be extended ? — It is contended 
 by many respectable writers, among others, by Mr Locke. 
 that, as nothing can be more peculiarly a man's own than 
 the exertions of his own faculties, whether of ingenuity 
 or of labor, when these exertions are employed upon a 
 subject originally common, tkey equitably remove it out 
 
190 
 
 of that primitive and unappropriated state, and constitute 
 a property in the individual exclusive and indefeasible. 
 And the property arising from this cause, is the more 
 entire and complete in proportion as the labor and skill 
 bestowed upon the subject form the greater part of its 
 value in its new state : which is the case of cultivated 
 soil, compared with natural rude and unappropriated 
 forest or marsh. This reasoning appears sound and con- 
 clusive as far as the labor and ingenuity of man is active- 
 ly employed, and as long as it continues to be exerted. 
 But as it can extend only to a very narrow compass, and 
 to a very short duration, it does not seem to afford a suf- 
 ficient foundation for the rights of property in land to the 
 extent in which they actually exist. We must search a 
 little deeper, therefore, for the right of parcelling out the 
 surface of the earth among separate and exclusive pro» 
 prietors. There can be little doubt, from the wisdom and 
 intelligence displayed in the general structure of the 
 world, and from the peculiar attributes of human nature, 
 that this globe was formed for the use and happiness of 
 man ; and was committed to the direction and control of 
 his reason to be disposed of in that manner which seems 
 to him best adapted for promoting its utility, and ren- 
 dering it a commodious and comfortable habitation for 
 the greatest numbers of the human race. This general 
 and obvious principle involves the right of distributing it 
 
191 
 
 in separate property, under some form of division, as 
 being infinitely better adapted for these ends than its 
 original condition of community. For it may be received 
 as a certain maxim, that the worst state in which the 
 earth can exist, and the farthest removed from the ap- 
 parent design of the Author of nature, is that of a com- 
 mon. It prevents the improvement of the soil, the multi- 
 plication of mankind, and the introduction and growth of 
 almost all the arts which contribute to the accommoda- 
 tion of the life of man, and of the principles of science 
 which expand the sphere of his knowledge. 
 
 The right of establishing separate and exclusive pro- 
 perty, especially in land, must result from the utility of 
 the institution. It contributes a thousand fold to increase 
 the products of the soil in climates of moderate fertility 
 and temperature, and, in the same proportion, to augment 
 the numbers of the human species. All industry, either 
 in collecting and nourishing herds of useful animals, or 
 in cultivating the earth, must cease, when it is known 
 that others may enter at pleasure, and enjoy in indolence 
 the produce of your labors. It is only when property is 
 certain, and its fruits are rendered secure to the proprie- 
 tor, that he is encouraged, by every exertion, to improve 
 its value and to multiply its produce. And the multiplica- 
 tion of the means of living contributes to multiply life 
 itself. Thus the earth is made more effectually to con 
 
192 
 
 duce to the ends of its original destination. Without the 
 institution of property hardly ever should we see even its 
 natural fruits permitted to arrive at maturity. Agreeahly 
 to these reflections, wherever the primitive community 
 of the soil, is suffered to subsist, as among the aboriginal 
 inhabitants of America, the population is necessarily ex- 
 tremely sparse, and the beasts are found to multiply infi- 
 nitely faster than the men. 
 
 The establishment of separate property, promotes, also, 
 the tranquility of society ,• and tends to the introduction 
 and cultivation of all the useful and ornamental arts 
 which contribute so greatly to the accommodation and 
 embellishment of human life. 
 
 From every view, therefore, which we can take of the 
 origin of property, and the grounds of its separate and 
 exclusive appropriation, it is justified equally by the evi- 
 dent intention of divine providence ,• and by its beneficial 
 influence on the order, improvement, and happiness of 
 human society. 
 
 OF THE INDIVIDUAL EIGHT OF PROPERTY, OR THE TITLE 
 OF EACH MAN TO HIS ESTATE ORIGINALLY. 
 
 Of the general right of mankind to appropriate and di- 
 vide the surface of the earth among them for the purpo- 
 ses of subsistence, there can be no doubt : but the question 
 
193 
 
 arises, whence is derived the title of each man to his par- 
 ticular share in the division ? The earth, in its original 
 state, like the ocean, was common. Each man had a right 
 to use it, in order to procure from it his own subsistence ; 
 but natural justice required that this right should be ex- 
 ercised so as not to interfere with the equal rights of 
 others. Where every man was his own judge, and acted 
 on his own impulse, this would necessarily be extremely 
 difficult, and would afford occasion to innumerable contro- 
 versies concerning the limits of their respective rights of 
 range, and the priority of occupation of particular dis- 
 tricts. After the inhabitants, therefore, should have be- 
 come too numerous on a certain territory, to employ it 
 according to their primitive and common rights without 
 frequent and dangerous collisions, it would naturally oc- 
 cur to the prudent among them, as the most obvious means 
 of remedying these evils, to agree to throw their general 
 rights into a common fund to be divided among them in- 
 dividually, or by families, according to some principles of 
 convenience. This important act might have been execu- 
 ted by common consent, or regulated according to the will 
 of those who should have been vested by the general as^ 
 sembly with supreme authority for this purpose. In either 
 case, that division of the land adopted by them, must have 
 become the connecting principle of their government, and 
 
 formed the basis of their civil constitution. The constitu- 
 vox. ii. b b 
 
194 
 
 tion, therefore, or fundamental law of the nation, is the 
 sole foundation of the exclusive rights of property to the 
 citizens, in their separate bounded portions of the soil. 
 Imagined convenience, and the benefit of society, is com- 
 monly the original rule or measure which governs the 
 law of the division, And the precise, and definite rights 
 derived, in this manner, from the will of the society, or 
 of the sovereigu, in whom the society has vested all its 
 powers, are substituted in the room of those primitive and 
 common rights derived from nature which are only gen- 
 eral and indefinite. Hence the tenure of landed property 
 is various in different countries, accoi-ding to the ideas of 
 the people, or of their legislators. But, whatever the par- 
 tition of the soil may have originally been, it usually be- 
 comes greatly changed in the course of time, in conse- 
 quence of devises, contracts, and the infinite divisions and 
 transfers of property which are continually taking place 
 in society. 
 
 OF THE PRINCIPLES WHICH GOVERN THE DISTRIBUTION 
 AND TRANSFER OF PROPERTY. 
 
 In the original distribution of property there are some 
 principles which usually govern the opinions of mankind 
 besides the mere will of society, and which serve to di- 
 rect that will. The chief of these are prior occupation, 
 or labor primarily bestowed on any unappropriated sub- 
 
195 
 
 ject. And, in the progress of society, the most common 
 grounds of the transfer of property are devise, gift, or bar- 
 gain and sale, all of which are usually considered under 
 the general head of contract. To these means of acquir- 
 ing property some writers have, perhaps incautiously, 
 added forfeiture ; because when an injury is committed, 
 the guilty person is bound to make reparation, and there* 
 by forfeits, or transfers to the injured what had before 
 been his right. But this is only substituting one species 
 of property in the room of another : unless we basely con- 
 sider personal injuries, or wounded reputation, in some 
 instances as subjects of barter, or sale. Forfeiture is, be- 
 sides, so limited in its effect that hardly can it be justly 
 regarded as one of the sources of property. 
 
 OF OCCr/PAXCY. 
 
 The right of occupancy can take place with regard to 
 such things only as before were common, and unappro- 
 priated, such as the air, the sea, or lands which have not 
 yet been parcelled out among separate owners by express, 
 or implied compact. In subjects of this nature, each man 
 has a property in that portion which he holds in actual 
 occupation ; and no man can, without injury, deprive him 
 of the free and unmolested use of it. But as it is impos- 
 sible for one person to occupy the whole atmosphere, 
 ocean, or forest, and as others possess equal rights with, 
 
196 
 
 himself, his privilege, or title of property becomes limi- 
 ted by natural justice, to what he is at present employing 
 in actual use. But the laws of almost all governments, 
 fromteome considerations of public utility, have concur- 
 red in the general principle of extending the rights of 
 prior occupation beyond immediate possession and use, to 
 what will be convenient for the purposes of society. 
 
 The principle of convenience has likewise been ?pplied 
 by independent nations, sometimes by implicit agreement, 
 and sometimes by explicit compact, to regulate their res- 
 pective rights of use, or property, in seas, rivers, bays, 
 or certain districts of the ocean, and in newly discovered 
 lands ; which, without such convention, must have been 
 subjected to the general principle, limiting rights to ac- 
 tual occupancy, and possession. 
 
 OF LABOR. 
 
 Labor forms another, and still juster title to property. 
 By it is intended any exertion of our talents, or any effort 
 of industry, corporeal or mental, by which a thing is dis- 
 covered that was not known before, — fabricated that did 
 not exist before, — or receives, from some change in its 
 form, an augmented value. The title acquired by this 
 means is a necessary result of the natural right which 
 cxery man possesses to the use of his own faculties, and 
 the enjoyment of their fruits. The productions of a man's 
 
197 
 
 ingenuity and skill are his property, which he may em- 
 ploy, or dispose of for his own benefit. The work of his 
 hands forms a title to property, if it is employed on a 
 subject before unappropriated, or on an appropriated sub- 
 ject, with the consent of the owner. But if, without such 
 consent, any labor he added to a subject belonging to 
 another, it is lost to the laborer, inasmuch as it ought 
 not to change the original propriety of a thing which has 
 not been alienated. But, if it be of such a nature that it 
 may be separated from the original subject, the author of 
 the work has a right to remove it, and hold it for his own 
 use. But, if no separation can be made without injury to 
 the subject, the original proprietor must be suffered to en- 
 joy the benefit of the whole. Any change in this rule can 
 only be made with the consent of the proprietor. 
 
 Property which does not accrue from one or the other 
 of the sources just mentioned, and is not the effect of de- 
 vise or gift, is the consequence of contract or convention, 
 the forms of which are generally prescribed in the laws of 
 society. — It will be considered in the next lecture. 
 
 All property, except that resulting from prior occupa- 
 tion of unappropriated subjects, may be considered as 
 founded in labor ; inasmuch as it is labor which gives the 
 principal value to all things. Property derived from con- 
 tract is only the exchange of one species of labor for 
 
198 
 
 another ; and that which accrues from devise, or gift, is 
 but the transfer, without an equivalent, of things which 
 have been rendered valuable by the labor of others. 
 
 One of the first principles in the establishment of sepa- 
 rate and individual property, was its inviolability ; which 
 implies that the portion of each citizen should be sacred, 
 and protected by the laws from the intrusion of every 
 other person, without the consent of the proprietor. Yet, 
 in this distribution, every society reserves to itself certain 
 rights for the common good, which seem to limit this in- 
 violability ; but only to enhance the value, and increase 
 the security of that which remains. It retains the sove- 
 reign prerogative of laying out roads, of cutting canals, of 
 establishing ferries and bridges across rivers for the pub- 
 lie interest, and convenience. And in performing these 
 acts, it may, by its sole authority, take the necessary pro- 
 portion of the property of any private citizens, always, 
 however, making reasonable compensation for what it 
 shall so employ. This reservation of public right is al- 
 ways presumed in the distribution of the territory in pri- 
 vate property. And, upon the most equitable grounds, 
 for, as the property of individuals is rendered secure and 
 valuable only by the will and power of the public, the 
 public has an undoubted right to derive an advantage 
 from the protection it extends. It is usual also for the 
 public to assert a property in certain minerals, and medi- 
 
199 
 
 cinal springs. On the same principle, it may claim a pro- 
 visional right to useful inventions, or discoveries for the 
 public benefit, paying to the original inventor, or discover- 
 er an adequate and liberal reward. For, although it be 
 acknowleged that he has a natural right to the full use, 
 and fruits of his own talents, or good fortune,' yet, it is 
 the power, and wealth of society which can render them 
 of any value to him j and it merits this acknowlegement. 
 
 Another exception to the inviolability of property may 
 deserve to be mentioned, although it be in itself of small 
 importance, from the rarity of the occasions on which 
 it is called into exercise. It is well known to jurists under 
 the head of the rights of necessity. They are such as 
 from the extreme urgency of their claims cannot be de- 
 layed, yet, from the ambiguity of their circumstances 
 cannot easily be designated with precision in any general 
 law. It is necessary therefore that they be left to each 
 man's reason and conscience to direct his conduct at the 
 moment of action ; but, as they must afterwards be judged 
 of at the tribunal of the public, they ought to be justified 
 by the palpable extremity of the case. A man may put 
 another, who assails his life, to death on the spot, with- 
 out waiting the decision of a tribunal which would come 
 too late for his protection. A man ready to starve with 
 hunger or to perish with cold, may justifiably take the 
 first food, clothing or shelter he can find. A house, the 
 
200 
 
 demolition of which would stop the progress of adestruc* 
 live flame, may, on the same ground, be torn down. As 
 society was instituted for the greatest common benefit, 
 individual interest in such eases, must give way to a 
 greater good. In examples of the nature of the last, how- 
 ever, restitution to the particular sufferer ought, as far 
 as possible, to be made by the community. But this res- 
 titution cannot be required to extend to the full value of 
 the property destroyed $ only to its value estimated by a 
 liberal appraisement in the imminent hazard in which it 
 stood. 
 
 Such are the principles on which the distribution of 
 property has been originally made in society. Its trans- 
 fer, or exchange among citizens by contract, which in 
 the end, so greatly varies its relations, will be considered 
 in the following lecture. 
 
201 
 
 LECTURE XXIII, 
 
 OF CONTRACT. 
 
 The nature of a contract, and the principles that should 
 govern its formation — Of the distinction of contracts 
 —Of testamentary devise — Of exceptions to contracts. 
 —The obligation of truth considered under the head of 
 contracts. — Of the forms necessary to authenticate con- 
 tracts, and render them complete in law.— .Of subscrip- 
 tion — of seals — of oaths — of vows, — Of the rights of 
 command. — Of police. 
 
 I HAVE already considered prior occupation, and per- 
 sonal labor, by which last is meant any exertion of our own 
 talents, bodily or mental, as means of acquiring property. 
 I come now to place before you the nature and conditions 
 of contracts, which are the most ample source of the ac- 
 quisition, transfer, and exchanges of property in society, 
 and the subject of the greatest portion of her civil code. 
 — A contract is a promise explicitly made either by 
 words, or by signs, calculated and designed to excite an 
 expectation of the performance of some service, or the 
 transfer of some rights. An expectation thus excited, 
 considering the necessity there is for this mutual confi- 
 dence in society, reasonably creates a reliance on its ful- 
 
 toi. ii. e c 
 
202 
 
 filment as forming part of the expectant's estate. A frau- 
 dulent failure to fulfil it, therefore, is equivalent to pur- 
 loining such a portion of his property. 
 
 A promise, when clearly and distinctly made, although 
 it may not he attended with all the civil forms required 
 by the laws of the state, is, however, equally obligatory on 
 the conscience of a good man with a formal contract : but 
 when invested with its legal forms, it becomes a ground 
 of compulsory obligation. It is then converted into a spe- 
 cies of property; and the violation of it forms an injury 
 which is justly punishable by the civil magistrate. 
 
 It is of importance that, on this subject, whether we 
 contemplate it as moralists, or civilians, we frame precise 
 and equitable principles for its regulation. 
 
 1. In the first place, contracts should regard only such 
 things as are both possible, and lawful. — If the object of 
 the contract is, at the time, impossible, and the impossi- 
 bility be known to both parties, it is an act of madness. If 
 it be known to one of them only, who may derive a profit 
 from it, it is an act of fraud. If the impossibility arises 
 after the contract has been made, and not from any fault 
 of the parties, that agreement, indeed, is void, but the par- 
 ties are exempt alike from the charge of folly, and crime. 
 If the contract respects an object which, in its nature, is 
 unlawful, it is, by its very terms, void ; because virtue, 
 
203 
 
 duty, honor, truth, are prior obligations on human nature. 
 If the unlawfulness was not known at the time of entering 
 into the contract, or if it arose afterwards, as in the en- 
 gagement made by Herod to the daughter of Herodias, 
 the knowlege of this fact immediately dissolves the obli- 
 gation. 
 
 2. To render a contract perfect it is necessary that 
 there be not only a promise on one 9ide, but acceptance on 
 the other. In a beneficent contract acceptance may com- 
 monly be presumed ; but the promise should be explicitly 
 made to the beneficiary, otherwise it is no more than a 
 simple resolution in the mind of a benefactor which can 
 create no expectation, and may be retracted at pleasure. 
 But in an onerous contract, where duties are to be per- 
 formed on each side, there is required a mutual promise, 
 and mutual acceptance. 
 
 3. A contract may be made by signs as well as by 
 words, if the signs are such as are calculated, and evi- 
 dently intended, to excite the expectation of another that 
 a certain service shall be performed, or a certain benefit 
 conferred, such as raising the hand, or using any other 
 appointed signal for testifying assent to the declared terms 
 of any obligation. 
 
 4*. A man may stipulate in his own person, or by an 
 agent whom he has regularly authorized to act for him in 
 
20* 
 
 the ease. He may be bound by the act of a servant in 
 sucb affairs as servants are known usually to transact ; 
 and, especially, in such affairs as he has been known re- 
 peatedly to commit to the management of a particular 
 servant. 
 
 5. Custom, when generally received and known, may 
 be a ground of obligation, or constitute a contract ; al- 
 though, not formal and explicit, nevertheless, implied and 
 real. A parent, for example, sending a child to a place of 
 education, by that act, binds himself to comply with all 
 the customary regulations of the institution as far as they 
 immediately concern him. A great part of our conven- 
 tions or compacts in society rest merely on the customs 
 of the country. 
 
 G. As there may frequently exist some ambiguity in 
 the expression of instruments of writing, which are not 
 drawn with a particular and minute attention, to the 
 order and meaning of words, it is an important and ne- 
 cessary rule, in the interpretation of contracts, to give to 
 those words their most usual signification, in common 
 discourse ; or that signification in which it will appear, 
 from the hody of the instrument, and from other concur- 
 rent circumstances, they were intended to be used. 
 
 7. An ultimate rule upon the subject of contracts is 
 derived from the principle which constitutes their moral 
 
205 
 
 obligation, which is the expectation reasonably excited 
 by them, or the reliance founded upon them ; whence it 
 results, that no contract can justly be supposed to exist, 
 or can be admitted in the civil laws of a country to have 
 any force, which is entered into with a person insane, or 
 with one who is under guardianship, or who, from any cir- 
 cumstances, cannot be supposed to have a free will of his 
 own, or an independent right to execute its stipulations. 
 In these cases, no just reliance can be supposed to be crea- 
 ted, no reasonable expectation raised. 
 
 OF THE DISTINCTION OF CONTRACTS. 
 
 After the general rules which have been just stated on 
 the subject of contracts, and their validity in law, or the 
 equity of conscience, I proceed briefly to point out their 
 several distinctions, or the heads under which they may 
 be respectively arranged. 
 
 Contracts taken generally, may be divided into abso- 
 lute or conditional, single, or reciprocal. — Conditional 
 contracts are such as make the execution depend upon 
 some condition to be performed by the person who is to 
 receive the benefit, — on some action of another, — onsome 
 service to be rendered, — or some fortuitous event which 
 is to take place hereafter. Absolute contracts are such 
 as are expressed without any such limitation on the ful- 
 filment of their stipulations — Reciprocal contracts imply 
 
206 
 
 obligations and promises of services to be performed, or 
 rights to be transferred on each side, as in all contracts of 
 bargain and sale. — Single contracts, on the other hand, 
 which are sometimes called gratuitous, contain an obli- 
 gation only on one side, of some favor to be bestowed, or 
 some right to be transferred, which requires simply ac- 
 ceptance on the part of the obligee. Such is the deed of 
 gift for some portion of his real property, which a man 
 may bestow on his friend, or devote to public, or charita- 
 ble uses, during his life. — Testamentary devise, however, 
 is the principal example of this species of contract, both 
 on account of the frequency of its occurrence, and the 
 importance of the objects affected by it. — On this subject, 
 a question has been proposed by civilians of no small im- 
 portance in the philosophy of legislation ; and that is, 
 whether the power which a citizen enjoys of disposing of 
 his property by testamentary devise, according to his 
 pleasure, be a right resulting from the law of nature, or 
 purely an adventitious right derived from the will of so- 
 ciety. Certain it is that the right of constituting wills for 
 the transmission and distribution of a man's property 
 after his death was first introduced into Rome by the de- 
 eeraviral law. Tacitus says it was unknown to the Ger- 
 mans, and from the period of the conquest in England 
 this privilege was not completely enjoyed by a great part 
 of the freeholders of that nation till within the last three 
 
207 
 
 centuries.— The following principle on that subject, is 
 universally admitted, that the personal property which 
 any man has acquired by his own industry, or fabricated 
 by his own labor and skill, may, conformably to the law 
 of nature, be disposed of in full property at his death, in 
 any way which will most gratify his domestic affections, 
 or friendly attachments. But, because the distribution of 
 the land in separate propriety, and the whole system of 
 real estate, is the operation only of social law, it is con- 
 tended by many ingenious writers that the power which 
 creates the property has the sole right to direct the trans- 
 mission of it after the demise of each occupant. The 
 death of the occupier, they suppose, returns the soil back 
 to its primitive state of community, to be re-apportioned 
 by the law of society. Examples of the exercise of this 
 power often occur in the ages of feudal aristocracy in 
 Europe. The same end may be accomplished by insti- 
 tuting a certain line of descent for landed property, inde- 
 pendent of the particular will of the last owner. As we 
 see exemplitied in the absurd rule established in England 
 for the succession of real estate in the ruder ages of that 
 kingdom ', and which can, even now, be corrected only 
 by regular testamentary devise, which, within a short 
 period, has been introduced for the remedy of this evil.* 
 
 * Such as that parents can in no case inherit even if the es- 
 tate should be lost for want of an heir. That the remotest rela- 
 
208 
 
 Another and more humane example we have in the rule 
 of the Roman law for the distribution of the personal 
 property of intestates. # 
 
 Although it is true that real estate rests upon a differ- 
 ent footing from personal property, and is wholly the 
 consequeuee of the will, and the peculiar organization of 
 civil society, yet, according to the distribution, and spe- 
 cies of tenure of landed property which has heen estab- 
 lished in any country, I am unwilling to believe that the 
 testamentary control over these adventitious rights, ought 
 to be in any degree more restricted, or less full and ab- 
 solute, than over the natural rights which each man pos- 
 sesses to the labor of his own hands. Civil society, like 
 the providence of nature, should make the rights which 
 it confers perfect. So that, although uatural and adven- 
 titious rights differ in the sources from which they are 
 derived, there should be no difference in the powers which 
 they bestow. This is necessary, equally, for the happi- 
 
 tion of the male line, shall supplant the nearest of kin by the 
 female ; and other barbarous regulations of the same kind. 
 
 * Of personal property the Roman law assigned one third 
 to the widow, and two thirds to the children; if there were no 
 children, one half was assigned to the widow, the other half to 
 the nearest of kin. Where the intestate had left neither widow, 
 nor iineal descendants, the whole property passed to the next 
 in the scale of kindred, and equally to those of equal degrees, 
 whether by the male, or female line. 
 
209 
 
 ness of the citizens, and the encouragement of industry, 
 that, after the cares, the expense, or toil they have be- 
 stowed in the acquisition of their property, they may he 
 able at last to gratify the fondest affections of their hearts 
 in the dispositions which they make of it. This principle 
 is recognized in the civil laws of our own country, in the 
 arrangements which they have made for the distribution 
 of the property of those who are either so negligent, or 
 so unfortunate i*, to die intestate : they have endeavored 
 to consult, as far as possible, the general affections of 
 human nature upon that subject. Notwithstanding this 
 general and salutary provision of law, however, most men 
 will have some particular wishes with regard to their af- 
 fairs which cannot be embraced in any common regula- 
 tion. For these ends, every citizen has it in his power 
 perfectly to provide by his own testamentary arrange- 
 ments. — On the question, therefore, which gave rise to 
 these reflections, I conclude, that all that species of pro- 
 perty which is stiled real estate, is the effect purely of the 
 conventions of society. In a state of nature it could not 
 exist. But, when those rights have been incorporated into 
 the very constitution of the republic, and identified with 
 the person of the proprietor, then the power of transmit- 
 ting them by testamentary devise, or in any other way of 
 transferring them under the restrictions and limitations 
 
 under which they have been originally created, is a re- 
 vol. ii. d d 
 
210 
 
 suit of natural law, by which any man may transfer, ac- 
 cording to his own inclination, rights of which he is fully 
 possessed. The last will and testament of a free citizen, 
 therefore, forms a gratuitous contract of the highest au- 
 thority and importance. 
 
 Contracts may be farther subdivided, and distinguished 
 into contracts of sale, — contracts of hazard, such as that 
 useful one of insurance, or that dangerous one of gaming 
 — contracts of service — of commissions — of partnership-— 
 of lending money upon interest ; concerning all which 
 there are many legal provisions established, and there 
 have existed many moral disquisitions, which it would be 
 tedious, and unnecessary to detail in this period of your 
 studies. They are left to your future experience, and in- 
 tercourse with the world. 
 
 OF EXCEPTIONS TO CONTRACTS. 
 
 There are four just exceptions to the validity of con- 
 tracts. They are void when either fraud, or unjust force 
 has been employed to obtain them ; or when they respect 
 things unlawful to be done, or impossible in their nature 
 to be executed. Of the latter I have spoken already. — Of 
 fraud, which is any deception used by one party to sur- 
 prize a promise from another, we may observe that it in- 
 validates a contract, in the first place, because deceit is 
 itself an injury, and merits punishment instead of being 
 
211 
 
 permitted to receive a benefit ; and in the next place, be. 
 cause there can be no just expectation raised in the party 
 who employs the artifice, that the other will fulfil a pro- 
 mise so insidiously obtained; when the imposition shall be 
 discovered. 
 
 Unjust force, which, in like manner, invalidates a 
 contract, consists in any violence, or menace employed 
 by a person, who is not invested with any adequate civil 
 authority for the purpose, to extort from another a pro- 
 mise of advantage. A contract obtained by such unjusti- 
 fiable means is void for the same reasons which invalidate 
 fraud. Force is an injury, and never can excite any 
 reasonable expectation of fulfilment, as soon as the duress 
 is removed. 
 
 The laws, however, may in certain cases, compel one 
 eitizen to enter into an equitable contract with another, 
 by the agency of the public magistrate, and these com- 
 pulsory stipulations shall notwithstanding be binding 
 upon the coerced party. The exception of force, does not 
 annul the conventions of independent nations ; for, between 
 them, contracts must be held to be obligatory, for the 
 sake of the peace of the world, although extorted by force, 
 or by fear ; unless the oppression be so extreme as palpa- 
 bly to justify resistance, in the general opinion of man- 
 kind, as soon as the weaker power shall have acquired 
 sufficient strength to break her ties. 
 
212 
 
 OF THE OBLIGATION OF TRUTH. 
 
 Under the head of contracts it has been usual to con- 
 sider the obligation of truth in narration and discourse in 
 general, as well as in the more particular circumstance 
 of explicit promises. The question is introduced in this 
 place, on the principle which has been laid down by many 
 writers, that all speech implies, in its nature, an indirect 
 contract with those whom we address, that we will utter 
 nothing but truth. There is, however, no need of this 
 fiction to establish its obligation. It rests upon the same 
 foundation, with the obligation of contracts themselves ; 
 that is, the sentiments of human nature, — and the inter- 
 ests and happiness of society. No man can utter a deliberate 
 falsehood without some compunction of heart, some feel- 
 ing of shame and self-reproach. And, certainly, if men 
 could not rely on the veracity of each other in the common 
 intercourse as well as the more solemn transactions of 
 life, and were not even impelled to yield this confidence 
 by a powerful natural instinct, all social relation would 
 be immediately dissolved. On this double foundation the 
 general obligation of truth in narration seems firmly to 
 rest. Contracts and oaths may give it an additional sanc- 
 tion, but, in a virtuous mind, it needs no other authority 
 than the voice of nature. 
 
 Connected with this, are commonly considered two 
 other moral questions which are of more immediate prac- 
 
113 
 
 tical importance — the first is, wherein the essence of a lie 
 consists ? And the second, whether there can arise any 
 occasion which may justify a departure from the truth ? 
 — To the first of these enquiries I answer with the greater 
 part of moral writers, that a lie is any departure in words 
 from the reality of things, made with an intention to de- 
 ceive. — It is any equivocation, likewise, in which a sen- 
 tence is intentionally so constructed that the literal and 
 grammatical meaning shall vary from the customary and 
 popular sense of the same words ; or, from that sense of 
 them in which it is known, and intended that they shall 
 be taken. — It is further, any action which, from the com- 
 mon relation established between actions and designs, is 
 calculated to mislead ; as in that villainous decoy which 
 has sometimes been practised by armed vessels at sea, 
 hanging out signals of distress to allure defenceless mer- 
 chant ships within their power. — Or, finally, it is any 
 omission of a material circums ance in a narrative, where 
 we profess to relate, and others have a right to be in- 
 formed of, the whole truth. — From these definitions it re- 
 sults that the essence of a lie lies in the intention to de- 
 ceive. Where no deception, therefore, is designed, or ex- 
 pected to be operated, as in parables, fables, or customa- 
 ry compliments, or in the common practice of a prisoner 
 at the bar pleading not guilty, no falsehood is ever impu- 
 ted. 
 
21* 
 
 With regard to the second question, many cireumstan- 
 «es have been ingeniously stated, and many delicate sit- 
 uations imagined, in which it has been supposed to be in- 
 nocent, or even laudable to depart from the truth ; others 
 have been proposed, of certainly a very dubious aspect, to 
 which the wisest men have found it difficult to give a pre- 
 cise, and definite answer. For example, the little deceptions 
 often used towards the sick to support their spirits, and 
 assist their cures, or lies told to a madman, or a robber to 
 divert him from a fatal design. But those mirthful tales 
 of falsehood invented merely for the amusement of com- 
 pany, or to try their credulity, are of much more doubt- 
 ful morality, when employed in the most ingenious form ; 
 but, as they are usually practised, a man can hardly con- 
 descend to such artifices without degrading his character. 
 The custom of directing a servant to deny his master or 
 mistress being at home, to avoid seeing a visitor, was, 
 when first introduced, a palpable immorality, till custom 
 made it at length be understood as only a mode of ex- 
 pressing particular engagement. It is, however, an un- 
 necessary departure from the ingenuousness of truth, 
 which might, no less inoffensively, be simply expressed. 
 Cicero informs us* how Scipio Nassica ridiculed this cus- 
 tom which, it seems, had been introduced at Rome. Scipio, 
 en a certain day, paying a visit to the poet Ennius, was 
 
 * Cicero 2 de orat. n 276. 
 
215 
 
 denied by a servant maid who had been instructed to say 
 he was not at home. Ennius, in his turn, went to pay his 
 compliments to the senator, who called out to his servant 
 as the poet was entering, Tell him that I am not at 
 home. — What! says Ennius, when I hear your voice 
 within there ? — Very high indeed ! replied Seipio. The 
 other day, I believed your maid, when she told me you 
 were abroad ; and now, forsooth, you won't believe me 
 myself. 
 
 A general rule has been laid down upon this subject by 
 some eminent writers, and, among others, by Dr Paley, 
 with a great appearance of equity ; — that, as the virtue, 
 or the vice of actions depends, in a great measure, upon 
 the utility, or the injury of their consequences, whenever 
 the benefit of the immediate consequence of a departure 
 from truth, as the rescuing of an innocent life from the 
 fury, or iniquity of an assassin, or robber, evidently, and 
 greatly exceeds the remote consequences of the example, 
 in such cases, but in no others, can it be justified. The 
 application of this rule to individual instances can hardly 
 be made with precision in any regulations of law. It 
 must be left to each man's moral feelings, and to his sense 
 of accountability to his Supreme Judge. 
 
 Some persons possess a constitutional and unhappy ten- 
 dency to an excessive indulgence of fancy in their narra- 
 
216 
 
 tions, and others an acquired habit of exaggeration oh 
 every subject which is expected to excite particular in- 
 terest, or surprize in their hearers. Few propensities 
 detract more from the credit and respectability of cha- 
 racter ; and there are few which have been found, in ex- 
 perience, to be more incurable. — Most men, in the negli- 
 gent narratives which they make of the ordinary an- 
 ecdotes and histories which are constantly circulating 
 through society, are prone to make some addition to what 
 they have heard, so that in passing from one to another, 
 they become so magnified and distorted as often to lose all 
 resemblance to the truth. These negligences in narration 
 are frequently productive of effects so unfriendly to the 
 happiness of social life, especially in the circulation of 
 the anecdotes of slander, as to rank them among the 
 highest offences, not only against charity, but justice. 
 And every good man should lay it down as a sacred and 
 inviolable rule to himself, never to suffer his imagination, 
 his passions, or his uncharitable negligences to color, or 
 to add, in the smallest degree, to what he has heard from 
 the purest sources in the intercourse of society, and es- 
 pecially to those historical narratives that can, in any 
 way, affect injuriously the reputation of others. 
 
 Having made this digression on the obligation of truth 
 and the other incidental questions connected with it, I 
 
217 
 
 return again directly to the subject of contract, and to 
 the means of authenticating it, and rendering it complete. 
 
 I have said before, that any signs, or expressions by 
 which we communicate an intention, and lead others to 
 depend upon its accomplishment, so that any injury or 
 painful disappointment would result from failing to fulfil 
 it, is a contract binding in conscience. But to render it 
 complete, certain forms are necessary in each country, 
 according to the prescription of its laws, for giving to the 
 instrument more perfect authenticity. If it is merely a 
 verbal contract, it is requisite that the words in which it. 
 is expressed be clear and precise in their meaning, and 
 that they be confirmed by the testimony of one, or more 
 competent witnesses. — If it be a written covenant it must 
 be authenticated by the customary signature of the con- 
 tracting party, or parties. Besides the signature, there is 
 usually required the testimony of one, two, and sometimes 
 of three subscribing witnesses. By the civil, or Roman law, 
 two witnesses at least, are required to substantiate, or 
 prove a contract. But by the common law of England, 
 which is generally received in the legal proceedings of 
 the United States, one witness is sufficient; except, in 
 some instances, wherein, by express statute, more are re- 
 quired. The statute of frauds, for example, requires (hat 
 the devise of lands should be attested by three subscrib- 
 ing witnesses. And, in a few cases, the precautions of the 
 vol. ii. e e 
 
218 
 
 civil law are adopted by the common law ; as in the rules 
 concerning the distribution of the estates of intestates, — « 
 and in maritime causes, in which two witnesses are made 
 necessary. The same rule is adopted in America in those 
 courts which have been substituted in the room of the 
 spiritual courts in England.* 
 
 The law, by an ancient custom, demands, as an addi- 
 tional security, the seals of the contracting parties. A 
 seal is, generally, some sign, or symbol engraved upon 
 stone or metal, and impressed upon wax, or wafer, in- 
 tended, in some way, to designate the person, or commu- 
 nity by whom it is used. Before the use of writing be- 
 came common, they, probably, served instead of the sig- 
 nature of the name, as those marks at present do which 
 are added by persons, who cannot write, to their names 
 written by another. 
 
 The name was written by a clerus or clerk, that is, a 
 learned man, as, in those days, they were esteemed to be 
 who could write, and the seal was added by the contract- 
 ing party as his distinguishing mark. After the talent of 
 writing became more generally diffused among society, 
 and almost every man was capable of inscribing his own 
 name, still the seal was, by custom, continued to be 
 added, and was by law made indispensable. 
 
 * As in the court of the ordinary,— the orphan's court, — the 
 chancery, and admiralty court. 
 
219 
 
 As seals, by the commonness of their use, among the 
 lowest as well as the highest classes of citizens, have lost 
 in a great measure, their distinguishing character, and 
 those appropriate emblems, such as coats of arms, or pecu- 
 liar devices, by which families, offices, or individuals were 
 designated, are but rarely employed, it has been allowed 
 that any impression made with any instrument, provided 
 it be made on wax or wafer, shall serve the purpose of a 
 seal. A seal, in its present form is certainly not requisite 
 to the validity of a contract on any principles of reason ; 
 it is still required however by statute in all cases of spe- 
 cialties, as they are called, through deference to ancient 
 custom, for which the law has always, and perhaps justly, 
 been remarkable. This annexation is now made not merely 
 forthe purpose of more precisely designating the person of 
 the contracting party, but carries in it a kind of hierog- 
 lyphic signification, implying, that, as those things which 
 are closed, finished, and bound up, are, for greater securi- 
 ty, usually sealed, so the persons, engaged in this contract 
 which is finished and closed, are hereby bound, and so- 
 lemnly pledged for its faithful fulfilment. 
 
 In ancient ages, oaths were much employed in the rati- 
 fication of contracts. They are a solemn appeal to God 
 for the sincerity of our purpose, involving an imprecation 
 of his judgments on any fraudulent failure in our agree- 
 ments. They were frequently accompanied with other 
 
220 
 
 ceremonies such as festivals, and the mutual exchange of 
 gifts to add publicity and solemnity to the transaction ; or 
 with the erection of pillars, or other durable monuments 
 to perpetuate its memory. With these were often blend- 
 ed other acts of religion, as libations, sacrifices, invoca- 
 tions. The Greeks were accustomed to divide a lamb 
 destined for sacrifice, into two parts, between which the 
 contracting parties successively passed : whence was 
 derived their phrase for confirming an agreement, temnein 
 horlion. The Latins, on the other hand, made use of a dif- 
 ferent phrase, ftr ire factum, from their custom, on similar 
 occasions, of knocking down a victim before the altar: 
 from which has been borrowed that familiar expression 
 among us of striking a hargain. 
 
 Oaths were anciently the more necessary in confirming 
 contracts of all kinds, because, writing being little known ? 
 it became requisite, by the impressions of religion on the 
 heart, to supply the want of the authentic and durable 
 evidences afforded by letters. And the very defective 
 forms of jurisprudence in those rude ages required the 
 more efficient aids of religious fear to give authority to 
 the regulations of civil society. Occasions, likewise more 
 frequently occurred, between equal and independent par- 
 ties who >vere amenable to no common tribunal, of enter- 
 ing into mutual compacts, from the numbers of petty 
 princes, or heads of independent families, or clans who 
 
221 
 
 resided in the vicinity of one another. In that state of so- 
 ciety in which arts and letters are advanced to a consid- 
 erable degree of perfection, such means of ratifying con- 
 tracts are less necessary, and are consequently little em- 
 ployed. Oaths> at present, are principally used on any 
 public emergency, in declarations of allegiance to the civil 
 authority of the state, or as pledges, on entering into of- 
 fices of important trust, for the faithful performance of 
 their duties. 
 
 A vow, which, in some respects, is analagous to an oath, 
 is simply a contract, or obligation under which any indi- 
 vidual voluntarily chuses to bring himself to God. Few 
 vows are required by rational religion. In making them, 
 a man ought to be very cautious, and deliberate, but, when 
 made, he ought sacredly to fulfil them. With them civil 
 society has no concern. They are transactions solely be- 
 tween God, and the individual. 
 
 Of the general rights of men in society I have now 
 treated, particularly of those of property, and the means 
 of acquiring it, by labor and by contract. I should next 
 consider the rights of command, either over the personal 
 service of individuals, or the civil obedience of men in a 
 constituted state of society. The former has already been 
 a subject of discussion under the head of economics; the 
 latter I shall reserve to be more particularly explained 
 when I come to treat of the constitution of civil govern- 
 
222 
 
 mcnt ; and shall conclude this lecture with a few obser- 
 vations on the subject 
 
 OF POLICE, 
 
 which consists in the limitation and direction of men in 
 the use of their respective rights in society, so that the 
 exercise of the rights belonging to one citizen, shall not 
 impede or interfere with those belonging to any other. 
 It relates to the manner in which the arts may be prac- 
 tised, — to the conveniences of travelling, and passing 
 and re-passing along the streets and public ways, — to the 
 order of markets, — to the times and manner of holding 
 all assemblies of the people, — to the conveyance of intelli- 
 gence, — to the regulations for the convenient management 
 of all commercial business. And in this last subject, the 
 laws of police have their principal operation and effect. 
 The details of police are very multifarious, and in their 
 minute arrangements can be learned only by experience. 
 
 As the objects of this class of laws, or the actions to 
 which they refer, have no natural morality, or immorali- 
 ty attached to them, but become lawful or unlawful only 
 in consequence of legal permission, or prohibition, men 
 have, in general, but a slight sense of the evil of violating 
 them. The regulations of police, therefore, ought to be 
 made with great prudence and moderation ', they should be 
 seen manifestly to conduce to the convenience of the whole 
 
223 
 
 body of citizens ; and the vigilance of the magistrate 
 should supply what is wanting to their exact and faithful 
 execution in the strength of the general sentiment of 
 right and wrong as it respects the obligation of these 
 laws. 
 
224 
 
 LECTURE XXIV. 
 
 OF THE DEFENCE OF CIVIL RIGHTS. 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The means of defending men's rights in society — Of pre- 
 venting wrongs by the general influence of education — ■ 
 by the protection and encouragement of religion — Of the 
 means of repelling, or repairing wrongs ; — in a state 
 of nature — in a state of civil society-— Of the constitu- 
 tion of the civil tribunals — Of the separation of the ju- 
 diciary from the executive, and legislative power — Of 
 the independence of the judges secured by the permanency 
 of their appointment to office, and by the ampleness and 
 security of their provision'— Their appointment being 
 made by the executive — their removal should depend on 
 the legislative, in consequence only of malversation in 
 office established before the highest judicatory in the na- 
 tion — In a free government the judges should be few — 
 in an absolute monarchy they should be numerous — and 
 in a despotism the supreme judiciary power should be 
 united with the highest offices of religion — The purity 
 of the administration of justice aided by the publicity of 
 its proceedings — Various co-ordinate courts should ul- 
 timately terminate in one supreme tribunal. — Of circuit 
 
225 
 
 courts — of juries to co-operate with the judges, thereby 
 uniting, in the constitution of the tribunals, the best 
 provision for impartiality and wisdom. — Of the power 
 to remove trials during the prevalence of violent party 
 passions. 
 
 THE second part of jurisprudence relates to the 
 means of defending those rights which nature, or the 
 laws of society, have bestowed on the citizen. They con- 
 sist in preventing, in repelling, or in repairing wrongs. 
 These ends, which are among the most important in civil 
 society, can be effectually accomplished only by a wise 
 legislation, and a prompt and faithful administration of 
 the laws. The prevention of crimes may generally be at- 
 tempted with the most favorable hopes of success by pro- 
 viding for the good education of the citizens,— by pro- 
 tecting and encouraging religion, — and by the salutary 
 example of the public justice. 
 
 Wrongs should be repelled or repaired by an impartial 
 administration of wise and just laws, — by obliging the cit- 
 izens to fulfil their contracts, — and by arresting medi- 
 tated and punishing actual crimes. 
 
 OF PREVENTING CRIMES. 
 
 For promoting the tranquility, order, and happiness of 
 
 society, no provision can be more effectual than imparting 
 vol. ii. vf 
 
226 
 
 Die means of instruction to every class of the people, par- 
 ticularly with regard to their moral, and social duties, and 
 the method of transacting all their ordinary affairs with 
 promptness and intelligence. That degree of knowlege 
 which, in a free country, may be imparted, by a prudent 
 legislation, to the poorest orders of the citizens, contrib- 
 utes to exalt the moral feeling of the public, and heightens 
 the love of order, and abhorrence of crimes. And by an 
 honorable provision for cultivating the higher branches of 
 science, there will always be prepared a most useful class 
 capable of directing with wisdom and prudence the opera- 
 tions of government. And although they should never be 
 called to bear an immediate part in the active labors of 
 legislation, or the administration of the laws, they will 
 serve as so many fountains of light distributed through 
 society, to shed the irradiations of moral and political 
 truth among the people, and with them, the love of virtue 
 and of order. The rays, it is true, may often strike feebly 
 upon dull and uninstructed minds, yet will they diffuse a 
 general twilight, which is infintely more friendly to pub- 
 lic virtue, and social happiness, than the gross manners, 
 and rude and untamed passions which generally accompa- 
 ny national ignorance, and the total destitution of science. 
 
 Another, and important mean, for the prevention of 
 crimes in a community, consists in the protection and en- 
 
227 
 
 oouragement given to religion. Religious knowlege tends to 
 civilize the mind, and religious fear often holds a power- 
 ful control over the violent passions of the most vicious of 
 mankind. To the influence of religion have all wise leg- 
 islators in antiquity resorted, to lay the foundations of 
 society most securely, and to promote its civilization. The 
 rites with which the people continually approached its 
 altars, impressed the public mind with a salutary rever- 
 ence for those divine powers which were believed to pre- 
 side over the world, and were the avengers of crimes. 
 The christian religion adds principle to ceremony* and 
 instruction to the rites of devotion, and seizes on the soul 
 hy the double power of religious illumination, and reli- 
 gious awe. As we possess, however, a public and gener- 
 ally acknowleged code of religious doctrine which every 
 man is able to interpret for himself, it is, perhaps, not 
 desirable that any peculiar exposition of it should be pre- 
 scribed by the authority of the civil government. Every 
 citizen should be permitted to use, and sacredly protected 
 in using, his own right of opinion, and in the privilege of 
 associating with any others of corresponding sentiments, 
 for offering their common devotions to the Deity. A senti- 
 ment of religion is deeply implanted in human nature ; and 
 it is justly to be expected tiiat each man will be as soli- 
 citous to preserve the privilege of expressing it according 
 to his own understanding, or the dictates of his own heart, 
 
22S 
 
 <as the government can be to enjoin it. By trusting to in- 
 dividual feeling and opinion, there can be no danger that 
 religion, so necessary to the existence, so useful to the 
 ultimate improvement of civil society, should perish. 
 The variety of sects will even be useful by their mutual 
 emulation, to preserve alive that pious zeal and that vigi- 
 lant moral discipline over their internal manners, which 
 will, in the best manner, aid the public virtue in the great 
 mass of society. With the temporary follies of enthusi- 
 asm which will sometimes spring up amidst an unenlight- 
 ened* populace,* the government has no concern. They 
 turn the mind to religious reflection, and, if not intempe- 
 rate ly opposed, they always subside, in time, into some 
 more sober and useful form of religion connected with 
 regular morals. The encouragement, therefore, which 
 good policy requires the civil government to extend to this 
 subject, is to protect every man in the sacred rights of re- 
 ligious opinion, and every denomination in the forms of its 
 own worship, and its internal discipline over its own mem- 
 bers. In this liberal indulgence to all sects, the state re- 
 quires no other guard for its tranquility, against any tu- 
 multuary efforts of enthusiasm, than effectual prevention of 
 individual zeal from restraining, or interfering with the 
 civil privileges of their fellow-citizens. 
 
220 
 OF REPELLING, AND REPAIRING WRONGS. 
 
 Having considered the general means of preventing 
 crimes, and introducing peace and order into society, as 
 far as it may be expected in this imperfect state of human 
 nature ,• permit me next to observe, that the object of its 
 laws, when crimes, or wrongs do actually exist, embraces 
 the means of repelling, or repairing them. 
 
 "When men are unconnected with one another by any 
 civil or political tie, a condition which is usually denomi- 
 nated a state of nature, they may, with their own hands, 
 repel or punish the wrongs offered, or inflicted, by the in- 
 justice of others. But, in a regular state of civil society, 
 individuals have given up the right of avenging them- 
 selves to the power of the magistrate, and to the tribu- 
 nals established for that purpose ; except only, in those 
 cases in which it is impossible, from the suddenness and 
 emergency of the ease, to interpose the aid of the civil 
 power to prevent an injury; or where the relief afforded 
 by the law is so palpably and totally inadequate to the 
 wrong that is likely to be endured, that all the world will 
 justify the act — then a man is permitted to defend himself. 
 
 On this branch of jurisprudence, therefore, which res- 
 pects the defence of the rights of the citizen, we are to at- 
 tend chiefly to the constitution of the tribunals for the ad- 
 ministration of the laws,— to the principles by which. 
 
230 
 
 those tribunals should govern themselves in pronouncing 
 their decrees, — to the evidence of crimes, — the design, the 
 proportion, and the nature of punishments. 
 
 Or THE CONSTITUTION OF THE TRIBUNALS. 
 
 The first maxim in the constitution of the tribunals is, 
 that the judiciary power should be separated in its exer- 
 cise, from the executive, and legislative, as far as the ne- 
 eessary union, and harmony of movement in all the de- 
 partments of government will permit. The union of all 
 these functions in an individual ruler, or in a single body 
 of men, necessarily constitutes a despotism ; which is com- 
 monly the more violent in its operations in proportion as 
 the numbers of that body are increased, a principle which 
 we have seen terribly exemplified in the late national as- 
 sembly of France. The union of the judiciary power with 
 either of the others, produces a formidable approach to 
 tyranny. Connected with the executive, it would afford 
 a dangerous opportunity to a capricious or designing chief 
 magistrate to exercise an arbitrary dominion, and to in- 
 crease his powers in the state to a dangerous magnitude, 
 by forming unjust and cruel decisions against all who 
 Avere opposed to his views, or obnoxious to his friends. 
 A rigorous execution, immediately following an arbitrary 
 decree, would leave to the sufferer no hope, or means of 
 redress. But however contrary to all sound principles of 
 legislation such a junction would be, the union of the ju- 
 
231 
 
 diciary functions with the legislative would he still more 
 unfavorable to the administration of justice, aud the se- 
 curity of the citizen. There would be no uniformity in 
 the law, and, therefore, no clear and permanent rule of 
 conduct for the people ; because every decree in judgment 
 w ould be equivalent to a new law, or, if it were necessa- 
 ry to give more formality to the precedent, it would be 
 only requisite to sanction it hy a law. The public code 
 would be continually changing with the various cases 
 which should come for their determination, before the 
 judges who would also be the legislators. It could hardly 
 be expected of human nature that they should not along 
 with their decrees often mix their own prejudices, and 
 passions. Having all powers, they would be under no con- 
 trol. Legal decisions, would, in many cases, be unavoidably 
 affected by the partialities of the judges ,* and would too 
 often, suffer a sinister influence from the predominant 
 factious which should, at any time, exist in the state. A 
 door would thus be opened to endless litigation, and to the 
 most iniquitous perversions of equity — and the people 
 would learn to fear, not the impartial and inflexible ma- 
 jesty of the laws, but the prepossessions, the caprice, or 
 venality of the judge. 
 
 But when that distinction, which political wisdom has 
 pointed out, between the respective departments, is faith- 
 fully preserved, and the legislature enacts the law, which 
 
232 
 
 judicial skill interprets, and applies to its proper object, 
 there is infinitely greater probability, that the application 
 will be made with impartiality and justice. The law 
 must then be framed under the view of general circum- 
 stances, and not under the bias of particular preposses- 
 sions, or the party attachments of the moment. The gen- 
 eral principles of equity must prevail in the law, as far 
 as they are understood by the legislators, when it is 
 framed without any reference to the peculiar interests of 
 individuals ; and the same reason must remove from the 
 interpretation of it all the biasses of enmity, or friend- 
 ship. For the judges being amenable to public opinion, 
 and to the legislature, who will naturally be tenacious of 
 the right exposition of their own decrees, must interpret 
 it strictly according to its letter. As they have no power 
 to frame, they have no privilege to modify the law. This 
 restriction is a necessary result of the separation of the 
 judicial from the legislative power. And although it is 
 true that the rigorous confinement of the judge to the lite- 
 ral exposition of the law must be productive of individu- 
 al cases of hardship, inasmuch as it is beyond the powers 
 of human sagacity to frame rules, on general principles, 
 which can embrace with precision, the perfect equity of 
 every Iiligated question; yet suffering this individual hard- 
 ship is preferable to investing the judge with the preroga- 
 tive of bending the law, even to the most consummate ideas 
 
2r» rt 
 OO 
 
 of justice which Mould he constituting him legislator as well 
 as judge. When the law is fixed, the citizens may, at 
 least, understand their duty, and conform themselves to 
 its prescriptions. Having a known, and uniform rule he- 
 fore them, they have it in their power accordingly to reg- 
 ulate their conduct, and take care of their own interests. 
 No citizen will have reason to fear the tyranny of office, 
 or the injustice of passion. The same protection, and de- 
 fence is equally extended to all. 
 
 Another political principle of the highest importance 
 in the constitution of the civil tribunals of a free state is, 
 that, not only should the actual exercise of the judicial 
 functions be distinct from those of the executive, and leg- 
 islative, but, that all temptation to an undue subserviency 
 to the one, or the other, maybe removed from the judges, 
 provision should be made in the constitution, as far as 
 possible, for their complete independence upon both. 
 Being appointed to be the incorruptible interpreters of the 
 law, it would be improper that they should be exposed to 
 any bias in their decisions, such as dependence on either 
 of those bodies would naturally tend to induce. One of 
 the first requisites in order to secure that unbiassed free- 
 dom of mind which the important duties of their depart- 
 ment require, will be found in their permanent tenure of 
 
 office. When a judge feels himself secure in his station, 
 vol. ii. g g 
 
23i 
 
 whatever primary sentiments of gratitude, towards a 
 prince, or executive magistrate, for his appointment, may 
 influence him, he speedily perceives his mind erect, and 
 intent upon his own respectability in his office, which 
 can be acquired only by a virtuous and dignified discharge 
 of its functions. In a republic like ours, in which the men 
 who hold the executive, and legislative departments of the 
 state are frequently changed by the public suffrages, this 
 independence of mind is the more speedily attained ; 
 which would be greatly impaired, or totally destroyed, if 
 his continuance in the office of judge depended on the will 
 of the temporary faction in power. — As an additional pro- 
 vision in favor of justice, the permanency of his judicial 
 station should depend only on one condition j fidelity in 
 the execution of its duties, which, to the virtue and the 
 talents that a judge ought to possess, will ever place his 
 honors, and emoluments in perfect security. 
 
 It is a question of great importance, and of some diffi- 
 culty in the science of politics, to determine in what hands 
 the appointment of judges should be placed, so as, at the 
 same time, to secure competent talents in the office, and 
 to avoid the danger of a dependent influence. The people 
 are, in general, inadequate judges of the qualities which 
 are requisite in the administration of the laws, it would be 
 dangerous, therefore, to commit the filling of the judiciary 
 department to popular election 5 and it would, in that 
 
235 
 
 §ase also, be subject to the worst of all influence, that of 
 the predominant parties, or passions, which might at any 
 time agitate the state. Perhaps the wisest policy in a bal- 
 anced government, like that of the United States, is to 
 make their appointment depend on the executive depart- 
 ment, and their removal, on the application of the rep- 
 resentatives of the people, grounded on evidence, before a 
 competent tribunal, of their malversation in office. The 
 judges would never feel themselves secure, if their re- 
 moval depended on a mere act of the legislature. There 
 are frequently seasons, when acts of that kind can 
 be pushed through such an assembly by the force of fac- 
 tion, or by a popular prejudice which may be artfully 
 raised against (be wisest and most upright men. But 
 when tbe charges against them, as is wisely ordained in 
 our ehil constitution, must be submitted to a judicial in? 
 vestigation before the highest tribunal of the nation,* it 
 is scarcely possible that an upright judge should be over- 
 borne by calumny, or faction ; and he may securely rest 
 in the consciousness of his own virtue. The judiciary 
 department, therefore, having equal reason, by their ap- 
 pointment on the one hand, and their apprehensions of 
 a removal from office on the other, to respect both the 
 executive, and legislative branches of government, they 
 wiU be exempted from an undue influence from either. 
 
 * The senate ot the United States. 
 
236 
 
 Virtue and conscious integrity will be the shield of their 
 independence, and of that freedom, and tranquility of 
 mind, so indispensable in their arduous station. 
 
 To render the independence of the judiciary complete, 
 it is requisite that their stipendiary provision be as inde- 
 pendent, and permanent as their official existence. It is 
 observed by a very good writer, that a power over a 
 meat's subsistence amounts to a power over his will. If 
 that department, therefore, were to receive its provision 
 only by occasional grants from the legislature, who pre- 
 side over all the fiscal concerns of the nation, which 
 might consequently be varied according to favor or pre- 
 judice, it would create a dependence which might often 
 prove unfavorable to the interests of public justice. The 
 constitution of the United States, aware of this danger, 
 lias with equal wisdom and justice provided, that the 
 judges shall, at stated times, receive for their services a 
 compensation which shall not he diminished during their 
 continuance in office. The variation in the value of 
 money, or, sometimes, in the general habits of living, may 
 occasionally indicate the necessity of an augmentation in 
 their compensation ; but, at no time, shall their just ex- 
 pectation, at entering into their office, be disappointed by 
 any diminution which might create a sense of dependence. 
 
 It is equally necessary, with the same view, that Ae 
 administration of justice be rendered respectable by the 
 
237 
 
 ampleness of its provision ; that no suspicion may exist ot 
 corruption ; that men of the highest talents may he in- 
 vited to the hench ofjusticej and the tribunal of the laws 
 be invested at once with the majesty of wisdom, and the 
 sacredness of unsuspected integrity. A small tax this, 
 which the public pays for the preservation of the rights 
 of the citizens, the purity of the fountains of justice, and 
 the tranquil and secure state of property, and industry. 
 
 Another political maxim which has been established 
 by experience, as well as by reason, is, that, in a free 
 government, the members which compose the supreme 
 judiciary body of the state ought not to consist of a large 
 number. Numerous bodies are seldom capable of the 
 slow and patient investigations which liberty demands. 
 They are liable, besides, to be influenced by the popular 
 passions which may, at any time, agitate the public mind. 
 And there is undoubtedly a defect in the constitution of 
 the department for the administration of justice, in which 
 the responsibility of the judge ought to be of the highest 
 grade, when this salutary check on human frailty is 
 greatly lessened by dividing that responsibility among 
 large numbers. This maxim, so useful and necessary in 
 governments in which the highest degree of liberty exists, 
 ought to be reversed in absolute monarchies which are 
 not tempered by a proper mixture of republican restraints. 
 Here the supreme depositary of the laws ought to be nu- 
 
23S 
 
 merous. The influence of a monarch over a large assem- 
 bly is less than over a very small body. The ardor of 
 popular passions, and even some degree of faction, may 
 be useful in such an assembly, to prevent too great ser- 
 vility to power. Of this the parliament of Paris, before 
 the late revolution, often exhibited striking examples, in 
 the independence of their spirit, and their resistance to 
 the arbitrary views of the monarch. In a despotic gov- 
 ernment the head of the judiciary should always be in- 
 vested with the supreme offices of religion. It is necessa- 
 ry by the supposed divinity of his functions, to overawe 
 the despot himself. In such states, the Sultan, or the 
 Schah may trample on the liberties, and sport with the 
 lives of his subjects ; but it is always dangerous to touch 
 religion, or, with a profane hand, to insult the sacredness 
 of its ministers. 
 
 The purity of the administration of justice, in the next 
 place, is greatly assisted by the publicity of all proceed- 
 ings in its courts. The public eye, and the fear of public 
 reproach, will ever form a powerful check on any discre- 
 tionary latitude in the interpretation of the law which a 
 judge might be disposed to assume. And especially when 
 the eyes, and ears of all those who are conversant in the 
 profession, and are, probably, not less skilled in the juris- 
 prudence of their country than himself, are open to every 
 step in his progress. This will necessarily prove an im- 
 
239 
 
 portant security fop the faithful application of the law to 
 its proper ends, the correction of wrongs, and an effica- 
 cious protection of the civil rights of the citizens. 
 
 In the judiciary system in states of considerable ex- 
 tent, it is generally necessary for the more convenient ad- 
 ministration of justice, to establish various courts of con- 
 current, or co-ordinate jurisdiction. In all such cases, it 
 is absolutely requisite, on principles of the soundest ju- 
 ridical policy, that there be constituted one supreme tri- 
 bunal to which appeals may be brought from the courts 
 below, if any probable cause exist of doubt, or error in 
 their decisions. Unless these various courts were ulti- 
 mately united in one head possessing a sufficient control 
 over their adjudications, they might establish different 
 rules of proceeding, and different interpretations of the 
 law within their respective departments $ and two causes, 
 similarly circumstanced, might receive opposite determi- 
 nations as they should come for adjudication before one 
 court, or another. Such collisions would unavoidably in- 
 troduce confusion into the jurisprudence of the country, 
 injurious to the rights, and the peace of the citizens. The 
 inconsistency, and opposition of rights and claims, wiiich 
 would naturally result from such a system, will be re- 
 strained, or corrected by the establishment of a superior, 
 and controling authority, always consistent with itself in 
 its decrees, which will, in time, produce a uniform rule 
 
240 
 
 of decision in all the rest. A supreme court is requisite, 
 likewise, to confine the jurisdiction of the other, and co- 
 ordinate tribunals within their proper limits. That love 
 of power, which is so congenial to human nature, and the 
 confidence of each in its own superior wisdom, would 
 prompt the respective courts to enlarge their separate ju- 
 risdictions, and thus produce uncertainty in the rights and 
 tenure of property ; unless one supreme power he ad- 
 mitted which shall have authority to compose every con- 
 troversy. 
 
 Circuit, or itinerary courts, appointed "for different dis- 
 tricts of an extended state, in which the different members 
 of the supreme judicatory should be required respectively 
 to preside, would relieve many of the difficulties, or dan- 
 gers attending co-ordinate and independent courts, at 
 once, by bringing justice near to the doors of the citizens, 
 and saving the necessity, or temptation of expense, delay, 
 and uncertainty by frequent appeals. The judge, having 
 employed his life in the study and administration of the 
 laws, would naturally have acquired the confidence of the 
 people, and of the parties at the bar ; and being prac- 
 tised in all the principles and forms of the supreme court, 
 the universal fountain of justice to the state, the same 
 principles and forms would of course be introduced into 
 the courts of the several districts ; so that one uniform 
 
241 
 
 system of law would pervade every part of the political 
 body. 
 
 The next consideration in the constitution of the tribu- 
 nals that should engage our attention, is the means of uni- 
 ting, as far as is practicable to human imperfection, a* 
 perfect knowlege and interpretation of the law, with the 
 most fair and impartial application of it to each case as it 
 may be varied by its attending facts and circumstances. 
 This union, was attempted in the Roman jurisprudence by 
 combining the judices along with the prtetor in the for- 
 mation of their courts of justice, and in that of Great- 
 Britain, and the United States of America, by using the 
 assistance of the jury along with the judge who presides 
 upon the bench. In the judges, or presidents of the tri- 
 bunals, provision is supposed to be made for the perfect 
 knowlege of the laws, and a profound acquaintance with the 
 whole science of jurisprudence. But, as they must possess 
 the ordinary passions, prepossessions, and foibles of men, 
 enjoying, as they do, a fixed official station, these foibles, 
 whatever they are, must be generally known, so that, if the 
 dispensation of justice were deposited wholly in their 
 hands, they Mould, almost necessarily, be exposed to the 
 continual solicitations of parties, and to every kind of art- 
 ful intrigue, or interested address ; against which it is not 
 
 easy for human nature to preserve a firm and unbiassed 
 vol. ii. n h 
 
242 
 
 impartiality. The jury, who are, in some measure, as- 
 sessors with the judge, and are selected on the spot, and 
 wholly for the occasion, may reasonably be supposed to 
 be free from this kind of influence, and to possess that in- 
 difference to the cause, and parties at the bar, which will 
 be peculiarly favorable to the fairness of their decision ; 
 especially, as their verdict respects only the facts on which 
 the sentence of the law is founded, and to which their 
 judgments, uninstructed in legal science, are perfectly 
 competent.* Men, chosen only for the occasion, will most 
 probably be exempted from the influence of intrigue, and 
 from all the prepossessions which would often assail, and 
 
 * The jury, which enters into the constitution of ou»* civil tri- 
 bunals, is by its peculiar office, appointed to determine only on 
 matters of fact. The judges decide on all points of law. Yet a 
 general verdict of guilty, or not guilty, pronounced by the jury, 
 often involves a mixed proposition of law a.ndfact, and the jury, 
 of course, assumes the prerogative of pronouncing on the whole. 
 But they are directed as to the law by the court. Sometimes, 
 indeed, instigated by some headstrong member, they presume 
 to disregard this direction, and oppose the opinion of the judge. 
 In that case the court may set aside the verdict, and award a new 
 trial. In the history of legal proceedings in England there have 
 been instances in which three successive verdicts on the same 
 question have been rejected, and the cause submitted to a new 
 investigation. According to the strictness, therefore, of our ju- 
 diciary constitution, the facts alone, on which the decision of 
 guilt or innocence is founded, are to be ascertained, and de- 
 termined by the jury, and the law is to be pronounced by the 
 judge. 
 
243 
 
 might sometimes be able to reach the integrity of theper.r 
 manentjudges. 
 
 Juries are attended with another advantage to the com- 
 munity ; that, selected immediately from the body of the 
 people, and possessing their sentiments and feelings, they 
 will naturally prove the most upright guardians of their 
 rights and liberties ; equally concerned to defend the in- 
 nocent, because they may themselves be exposed to 
 unjust accusation, and to punish the guilt}' for the sake 
 of general order. Although they are not supposed to be 
 learned in the law, they are capable of understanding its 
 rules as they are expounded from the bench, and of per- 
 ceiving their application to the facts before them. To 
 unite the highest wisdom of jurisprudence with the most 
 unbiassed integrity in judging, no institution has hitherto 
 been devised in civil society which contributes so certainly 
 as such a constitution of the tribunals.* 
 
 The present article I conclude with the judicious re- 
 mark of Dr Paley. " This admirable contrivance, unites 
 
 * A maxim, however, olthe greatest importance to be ob- 
 served, if there are different orders of citizens in a state, is, that 
 the jury should always be of the peers, or of the same rank in 
 society with the accused. Without a strict observance of this 
 condition, there would often be reason to fear the want of an im- 
 partial distribution of justice. The accused would consider him- 
 self in the hands of his enemies. 
 
2*4 
 
 t{ the wisdom of a fixed, with the integrity of a casual 
 " judicature, and avoids, in a great measure, the inconve- 
 " nienccs of both. The j udge imparts to the jury, the ben- 
 f l efit of his erudition and experience ; the jury, by their 
 « disinterestedness, check any corrupt partialities which 
 <« previous application may have produced in the judge. 
 " If the determination Mere left to the judge, the party 
 " might suffer under the superior interest of his adversa- 
 « ry : if it were left to the uninstructed jury, his rights 
 " would be in still greater danger from the ignorance of 
 « those who were to decide upon them. The present wise 
 «< admixture of chance and choice in the constitution of the 
 " court, in which his cause is tried, guards him equally 
 " against the fear of injury from either of these causes."* 
 
 To one danger juries are sometimes exposed from the 
 natural sympathy of mankind with their sect in religion, 
 their party in politics, or whatever principle of union with 
 a particular class in society, creates a distinction between 
 them and their fellow-citizens. When any popular, or 
 party passion becomes warm and violent in a particular 
 district, it is often difficult to find in that place an impar- 
 tial jury. The prejudices for, or against individuals may 
 be highly unfriendly to an equal administration of justice. 
 In such instances, however, the danger may generally be 
 
 t Paley's Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 379— 80— Ed. Bost. 1795. 
 
245 
 
 obviated by a power, properly lodged, to remove the trial 
 ot a different county, or district of the state, in which the 
 same parties, and prejudices are not found to exist. 
 
 Finally, to render the constitution of the court, and the 
 defence of the people's rights complete, it is an important 
 privilege which should be permitted to every party, to 
 employ as counsel, in maintaining their cause, and ex- 
 plaining for them all the laws which have any bearing 
 upon it, the assistance of men, who have, by time, and 
 study, made themselves thoroughly acquainted with these 
 voluminous guards of the public liberty. 
 
2*6 
 
 LECTURE XXV. 
 
 GENERAL PRINCIPLES BY WHICH THE TRIBUNALS OUGHT 
 TO BE GOVERNED IN PRONOUNCING THEIR DECREES— 
 AND OF CRIMINAL JURISPRUDENCE. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Hides by which the courts should he governed in interpret- 
 ing the Jaws, and pronouncing their decrees — of prece- 
 dents and law reports — of the use of analogies in ex- 
 plaining and applying the law — of the simplicity of the 
 rules of morality— -and the multiplicity of civil laws— of 
 tlie unanimity of the jury — of courts of equity — of crim- 
 inal jurisprudence — of the evidence of ci % imes — of the 
 design of punishment in civil society— of the propor- 
 tion of punishments — of the nature of punishments — of 
 the multiplicity of capital punishments — of the ends of 
 punishments — of sanguinary punishments. 
 
 HAVING already proposed several important maxims 
 respecting the constitution of the tribunals of justice, I 
 proceed now to lay down some general principles by which 
 these tribunals ought to be governed in pronouncing their 
 decrees. 
 
2-i7 
 
 The great and comprehensive principle, indeed, which 
 embraces and penetrates the whole, is that, in interpreting 
 each law, the court should rigidly adhere to its spirit and 
 meaning, as far as, by its obvious expression, with other 
 accompanying circumstances, it can be clearly ascertain- 
 ed ; or, which is the same thing, as far as the will and in- 
 tention of the legislator in enacting it can be known. — 
 The following rules on this subject have been prudently 
 adopted in the courts of England, and America. 
 
 1. To construe the law according to the plain meaning 
 of the words in which it is expressed, giving to those 
 words their common, and received signification. 
 
 2. When the language of the law happens not to be 
 precise, but is of equivocal signification, then, in order to 
 discover the intention of the legislator, the law is to be 
 consulted as it stood before this act was framed, — the evil, 
 or defect proposed to be remedied by it is to be examined, 
 and such construction given to the whole, as will most 
 effectually reach this remedy. The title and preamble of 
 the law often point to its meaning, and are very properly 
 resorted to in order to explain its enacting clause. 
 
 3. When once a judicial determination on the meaning 
 and extent of a statute has taken place, it then forms a 
 precedent by which all future decisions on the same or 
 similar points will be, in a great measure, directed. When 
 
24 S 
 
 such adjudication has heen made, although it he not on 
 the very law in question ', yet if it be on the meaning and 
 extent of the same, or similar expressions in other statutes, 
 it is to he regarded as a good rule to guide the courts in 
 their interpretation. 
 
 These principles are requisite to restrain the caprices 
 or partialities that may exist in the minds of the judges 
 towards the parties at the bar, or with respect to the 
 question litigated before them. They are no less requi- 
 site to prevent the variableness, and uncertainty which 
 would be introduced into the law of the land if each judge, 
 in pronouncing his decrees, were left to be governed 
 merely by his own, perhaps prejudiced, sense of what is 
 just and equitable, in each case which is presented for 
 his decision. 
 
 It is true, no human foresight can anticipate all the 
 cases which may arise, and come into litigation under 
 each particular law. The utmost sagacity of legislators, 
 therefore, cannot prevent their laws, in individual instan- 
 ces, from operating hardly under a rigid and literal in- 
 terpretation. Of some of these examples the hardship 
 might, doubtless, be alleviated, if greater latitude were 
 allowed the judges in expounding the law ; and they were 
 permitted sometimes to forsake the regular course of 
 precedents, and follow their own sense of equity. But 
 
249 
 
 fixed and known laws, and an invariable rule of judging 
 are of more importance to the peace and order of society 
 than can be the equity, or hardship of many single deci- 
 sions. When the law, and the decrees of the tribunals are 
 fixed and uniform, every citizen will, of course, have it 
 in his power to conform his actions to them, the rule be- 
 ing clearly known : and, for the same reason, many un- 
 necessary, and disquieting litigations among the citizens 
 will be precluded. But, if the judges are permitted, in 
 any degree, to modify the established standard according 
 to their own apprehensions of perfect right, in particular 
 cases, immediately the laws become unsettled, — the jus- 
 tice of the country is involved in obscurity, — no limits can 
 be prescribed to the variableness, and the contradictory 
 decisions of different tribunals, — and endless litigation 
 will be invited from the hopes which each man will en- 
 tertain of being able to gain, or blind the opinion of his 
 judge. 
 
 In almost every law which is framed, there necessarily 
 arises, through the defect of the human understanding, 
 which cannot foresee all the infinite shapes of human ac- 
 tion, some ambiguity in its application to many individual 
 cases. This evil is attempted to be corrected in the course 
 of legal adjudications. When a new case occurs which is 
 
 not marked with sufficient precision in the statute, it is the 
 voi,. ii. i i 
 
250 
 
 duty of the judiciary to endeavor to give it as far as it 
 may be done by their decree, that application which is 
 most congenial with its spirit and intention, and which, 
 combining all circumstances, will form the best and clear- 
 est rule of legal justice in all future and similar instances. 
 A point, thus determined, serves, as far as other cases, 
 by resemblance, or analogy, can be affected by it, to re- 
 move the ambiguity of the law, and to form a rule here- 
 after to direct the judgment of the courts. And it is a 
 maxim in judicial proceedings, founded on principles both 
 of wisdom and justice, that the rule, once established, 
 should be rigidly adhered to ; and especially after it has 
 been confirmed by repeated adjudication, unless there 
 should be discovered in it some manifest departure from 
 the letter, or the spirit of the law which it professes to 
 explain and enforce. 
 
 New cases, invested with different circumstances, must 
 frequently occur in an extended country, and amidst a 
 numerous population. These must be decided with the 
 same caution, and, when decided, become new precedents 
 to govern the decrees of future tribunals. Hence origi- 
 nate the numerous volumes of reports with which the 
 jurisprudence of a free country is, almost necessarily, in- 
 cumbered. The vast variety of these reports, with the 
 reasons on which the respective adjudications have been 
 founded, serve greatly to increase the extent and intriea- 
 
251 
 
 cy of the law as a science ; and render it absolutely re- 
 quisite that the judges should be profound lawyers, and 
 not only deeply versed in legal principles, but extensively 
 acquainted with the records of reports which are the his- 
 tory of legal adjudications. On the same reason is ground- 
 ed the nesessity of having the law opened, and explained 
 at the bar, and the judgments which have been awarded 
 in cases, similar to that in actual controversy, recited, and 
 compared by men who have made the science generally 
 the study and employment of their lives. 
 
 Not unfrequently, a considerable embarrassment arises 
 to the court itself from the difficulty of determining un- 
 der what law, or precedent a particular case, which is 
 diverse in some material circumstance, from all former 
 examples, may be brought. Perhaps it cannot be precise- 
 ly brought under any ; and the court is obliged to have re- 
 course to certain principles of analogy to find a sufficient 
 resemblance between the present, and any former cases to 
 afford grounds of a consistent decision in conformity with 
 the general train of legal proceedings. A question may 
 frequently have some resemblance to others which have 
 already been adjudged. And, it may possess an analogy, 
 in various respects, to several cases which, taken in all 
 their circumstances, are very different from one another. 
 In quoting, and comparing these analagous cases consists 
 a great part of the contention of the bar. And, in apply- 
 
252 
 
 ing them dexterously, a lawyer displays his ingenuity and 
 skill. The rule of decision to the court will be, the apt- 
 ness, the strength, and number of analogies on one side, 
 more than on the other. And its wisdom is seen in com- 
 paring and reconciling analogies with one another, or in 
 making such discriminations as will save the authority 
 of all the rules alledged in the cause \ or, in yielding only 
 to the strongest. 
 
 It is an enquiry frequently made, even by the judicious 
 part of society, whence this rigid adherence to prece- 
 dents ? — It is necessary equally, for the stability of the 
 law, and the tranquility of the citizens. It is absolutely 
 requisite, in a free country, that the discretion of judges 
 be restricted by positive rules which no impulses of fa- 
 vor, or opposition, shall dare to violate, or bend to the 
 purposes of private passion. And no less necessary is it 
 for the general peace, order, and contentment of the 
 country, that each member of the community should, in 
 every event, certainly expect the same decision in his own 
 case which has ever been rendered to others in similar 
 circumstances. By a judicious adherence to precedents, 
 while justice is rendered to the parties, in the individual 
 question before the judges, an important check is imposed 
 on imprudent litigation, arising out of the same, or like 
 subjects of controversy, in all time to come. As long as 
 any uncertainty exists with regard to the issue 'of con- 
 
253 
 
 tro verted questions of right, or property, the self-love, 
 and pride of mankind will be ready to disturb the quiet of 
 society by their unfair, or malignant suits at law. This 
 litigious spirit is in train to be repressed, by every deci- 
 sion which contributes to fix immutably a new point in 
 the law. 
 
 It seems, to many persons, strange and unaccountable, 
 that, since the moral duties of mankind are few and sim- 
 ple, and the whole theory of justice and morality may be 
 embraced in a volume small, and intelligible to the most 
 ordinary understanding, the laws of almost all nations 
 should, notwithstanding, be extended into such ample 
 volumes, and the administration of justice be esteemed 
 such a difficult science, and be, intact, such a tedious la- 
 bor. And it has been erroneously conceived, by some im- 
 mature politicians, that the work, of legislation has been 
 artfully magnified, and the whole structure and process 
 of our courts of justice have been artificially complicated 
 and intangled for the benefit of a particular order of men. 
 They have, accordingly, entertained many crude projects 
 in their fancies, for simplifying our civil codes, and re- 
 forming the whole order of our judicial systems. That 
 some amendments, if wisely attempted, might be intro- 
 duced into both, is probable. But in the rage for simpli- 
 fying, there is great danger that justice would be render- 
 ed more uncertain, and the settled order of society, and, 
 
254 
 
 the tenure of property would, in time, be miserably dis- 
 turbed. Besides, the true ground of objection to the mul- 
 tiplicity of our laws, and the tedious process of our civil 
 courts, is mistaken. It is not denied, that the knowledge of 
 the moral duties of men in a state of nature, or of civil 
 society, is a very simple science ,• and its details are redu- 
 cible within a small compass. When the actions and in- 
 tentions of men are distinctly known and fairly stated, a 
 fact which is always supposed in every theory of morals, 
 then the conclusions, that is, the grounds of approbation 
 or condemnation, are plain, explicit, and definite. But it 
 is impossible to apply the same simple process in the ad- 
 ministration of the laws of the land. Here the fact, that 
 is, the action which is in question before a civil tribunal, 
 is hardly ever distinctly know n till sought out by a long 
 process of enquiry, and frequently by a detail of inferen- 
 ces drawn from imperfect circumstances, from dubious 
 and contending evidence, and elicited from contrasted pro- 
 babilities, which must exercise the ingenuity of the bar, 
 the judgment and candor of the bench,' whence it arises 
 that the decisions of justice cannot always be clearly, and 
 immediately pronounced. The laws of the land, necessar- 
 ily aiming to reach all the oblique, and equivocal actions 
 of men, often obliged to bring to light those which are 
 most occult, and, amidst the innumerable disguises of hu- 
 man conduct, and intention, to search out the true mind 
 
%55 
 
 and purpose of the action, must employ, for these ends, a 
 vast multiplicity of provisions, which must consequently 
 lay open an immense field of litigation. But after the fact, 
 in consequence of these previous investigations, stands 
 manifest in its full and perfect shape, the application of 
 the principles of justice are not more ohscure and uncer- 
 tain than are the plain rules of morality in our domestic, 
 and social relations. The theory of morals, when the fact 
 on one side, and the rule on the other, are distinctly pre- 
 sented to view, offers simple and obvious conclusions ; the 
 difficulty and uncertainty of the practical application of 
 the rules of justice in civil tribunals arises from the in- 
 volution, and complication of human actions, under the 
 studied arts of disguise. 
 
 But this does, by no means, express the whole reason 
 of the multiplicity of laws in civil society. In the infinite 
 relations, and connexions of men in this extended inter- 
 course, public expediency requires a vast number of defi- 
 nite rules to be fixed for the transaction of its complicated 
 affairs ; rules, frequently, which involve no natural mo- 
 rality or immorality, and are only necessary because some 
 rule ought to be prescribed for the general convenience. 
 We may take, for example, the rules of inheritance, or of 
 the distribution of the property, real or personal, of intes- 
 tates. There are many things necessary to the order and 
 benefit of society which are not fixed \>ith precision by 
 
256 
 
 any natural law of justice, which must therefore be pre- 
 scribed by the positive rules of society : as, for instance, 
 that precise period in the life of man at which he shall 
 be competent to receive or bind his estate. There are 
 many questions, likewise, with regard to the rights of 
 property which depend on transfers, agreements, customs 
 that have existed in periods long antecedent to the birth 
 of the present proprietor. But, it would be impossible 
 here to enumerate the various causes which contribute to 
 multiply the regulations of civil society, to introduce un- 
 certainty, or doubt in the application of the law, or neces- 
 sary delays in its administration. These must be left to 
 your future studies, or future experience in the inter- 
 courses of life. But it ought particularly to be borne in 
 mind, that it is infinitely dangerous for projectors, igno- 
 rant of the principles of civil, and political society, by at- 
 tempting to introduce an ideal perfection into its order, to 
 depart too far from ancient and established usages. Des- 
 potism delights in the simplicity of its civil code. It gives 
 more scope to the discretionary authority of its judges, 
 who are its princes. But liberty requires a multiplicity of 
 laws to defend her \ and her laws are her shield and 
 buckler. 
 
 As a still greater security to liberty, and the equity of 
 legal decisions, we have seen that the jury has been added 
 to our tribunals as a species of co-adjutors to the bench. 
 
257 
 
 to assist in determining the facts involved in the question, 
 to which the judge points out the application of the law. 
 An important and distinctive principle in the use of ju- 
 ries, which takes place in the jurisprudence of Great- 
 Britain, and the United States, consists in requiring a 
 perfect unanimity in their verdict. The propriety of this 
 rule, certaiuly, does not immediately appear ; especially, 
 as unanimity is frequently procured hy a species of com- 
 pulsion, confining the jury in their chamber, till, hy a 
 certain compromise of opinions, they are tapered down, 
 at length, to such a coincidence as may consent to be em- 
 braced in a common verdict. The principle of unanimity, 
 indeed, has been found, on some occasions, favorable to 
 lenity in criminal prosecutions ; and sometimes it has 
 induced a divided jury to receive an opinion from the 
 maturer, and better informed judgment of the bench. 
 But, perhaps, after all, the principle of unanimity in 
 these juridical verdicts, would be better exchanged for 
 that of some certain majority. 
 
 Because the rigid letter of the law is not always the 
 most favorable to exact justice, and it is incompetent to 
 juries to determine questions of right, it is sometimes 
 useful, to institute a tribunal of equity, which may cor- 
 rect, in some measure, the errors of the law ,* or, as Mon- 
 tesquieu says, interpret the law in favor of herself, who 
 
 tojl. ii. k k 
 
258 
 
 always aims at the public good, and intends the most 
 perfect justice to every citizen. — To such an idea of a 
 court corresponded the tribunals of eentumvirs at Rome, 
 and the courts of chancery, and exchequer in England. 
 
 The perfect distinction between these courts, and courts 
 of common law, is hardly understood by the greater part 
 of the ordinary practitioners at the bar, and has not been 
 clearly explained except by a few of the most eminent 
 legal writers. A competent knowledge of this subject 
 can be acquired only by consulting the best expositors of 
 the English, or American law. But as these respectable 
 authors have stated the difference to consist chiefly in the 
 mode of proof permitted in the courts of equity, in the 
 mode of trial, and the mode of granting relief, I confess 
 I have not been able to see the necessity of two separate 
 tribunals, when the good effects of both seem to be equal- 
 ly attainable by investing the courts of common law, on 
 proper occasions, with chancery powers.* 
 
 * As far as respects the mode of proof, a court of equity may 
 administer a purgatory oath to the party concerned, in order to 
 reach such circumstances relative to a depending cause, as rest 
 wholly within his private knowledge. And, with regard to the 
 mode of trial, this court may grant a commission to take the 
 written testimony, on oath, of witnesses who may be in foreign 
 countries, or who may be too remote, or too infirm, or, from 
 peculiar causes, may be unable to attend at the place where the 
 court sits. And, finally, en the mode of granting relief, — on the 
 
259 
 OF CRIMINAL JURISPRUDENCE. 
 
 In treating of the defence of the rights of the citizens, 
 which consists in the protection of their property, and 
 their personal safety, the subject which next requires 
 your attention, after the constitution of the tribunals of 
 justice, is the criminal jurisprudence of a country. This 
 Lead includes the prosecution of crimes, and the design, 
 the proportion, and the nature of the punishments by 
 ■which they are to be restrained, or chastised. And, on 
 this subject it should ever be remembered, that it is not 
 less necessary, for the security of the citizen, that crimes 
 should be detected and punished, than it is requisite for 
 the preservation of liberty, and the general happiness, 
 that no man should be punished before he is convicted of 
 guilt ; that is, of some action that is injurious to his 
 fellow-citizen, and, that is clearly and definitely forbidden 
 by the laws. Equally inconsistent with the principles of 
 liberty would it be that any citizen, before conviction, 
 should be subjected to confinement, or restraint in his 
 person ; except on probable presumptions of guilt ; when 
 the constraint should not, in any case, proceed farther 
 than may be necessary to hold him to trial. 
 
 compelling the fulfilment of executory agreements, the con- 
 struction of securities, Etc. See Blackstone's Commentaries, 
 book iii. ch. 27. 
 
260 
 OF THE EVIDENCE OF CRIMES. 
 
 Conviction of guilt can justly be grounded only upon 
 evidence. Evidence is two-fold, direct, and circumstan- 
 tial ; the former consisting in the attestation of a witness 
 to his personal knowledge of the fact ; the latter, of such 
 circumstances as usually accompany the action in ques- 
 tion, and which, happening at the times, and places, and 
 in the combinations in which they are said to have taken 
 place, strongly imply the existence of the fact. 
 
 The testimony, whether it partake of the former spe- 
 cies of evidence, or of the latter, ought ever to be re- 
 quired on the oath, or solemn affirmation of the witness, 
 implying an appeal to the knowledge and justice of Al- 
 mighty God ; because the sentiment of religion is reason- 
 ably presumed to confirm the sentiment of truth in man- 
 kind, and to afford an additional pledge to society for the 
 verity of the evidence. 
 
 In the ease of direct evidence, the law commonly re- 
 quires the attestation of, at least, two witnesses to the 
 same fact. If the evidence be circumstantial, it requires 
 this attestation to two or more successive facts belonging 
 to the same train of circumstances, and all bearing an 
 evident reference to one ultimate fact. 
 
 Two witnesses are, for the best reason, required to 
 substantiate the principal fact, when the question rests 
 
261 
 
 upon direct evidence ; for, although the testimony of one 
 man, of known, and undoubted integrity, outweighs, in 
 its intrinsic value, and will outweigh, in the public opin- 
 ion, that of many men of suspected character ; yet, as 
 the law cannot estimate, with precision, the characters of 
 witnesses, and some general rule, which may he relied 
 on, is necessary to be fixed, the rule of two has been 
 adopted as the safest, and best. One witness may often 
 be liable to be corruptly practised upon ; two are not 
 equally subject to a sinister influence. And if their testi- 
 mony be perverted by any interested motives, it is difficult 
 to make the stories of two persons cohere, in all their 
 parts, in support of a falsehood. But to require a greater 
 number of witnesses to authenticate a fact judicially, as 
 was done at Athens where three were required by their 
 courts, would, on many occasions, impede the course of 
 justice, and defeat the intention of the law, which aims 
 at the discovery, and the salutary restraint and correction 
 of crimes. Although the law cannot designate the charac- 
 ters of witnesses, and the degree of credit which ought to 
 be yielded to their testimony respectively, yet will they 
 necessarily be taken into the estimation of the judges, and 
 the jury, and cannot fail to have their influence on the 
 ultimate sentence of the court. The nature of the thing, 
 and the intention of law, demand, that the court should 
 
262 
 
 possess some discretion on this subject, especially in 
 favor of the accused. 
 
 There are some occult crimes that, from their nature, 
 ean seldom admit of proof from two, or more witnesses, 
 which, however, the interests of society require to be vi- 
 gilantly detected, and rigorously punished. AVith regard 
 to these crimes, the testimony of one witness, supported 
 by strong corroborating circumstances, may, under the 
 prudent guards which the law provides, become a reason- 
 able ground of conviction. 
 
 There are two principles in requiring evidence which 
 ought ever to be sacredly adhered to in the humane laws 
 of a civilized nation. The first is, that no man should be 
 compelled to give evidence against himself. A law re- 
 quiring such testimony would be doing violence to nature, 
 which is always a pernicious principle in legislation, and 
 is productive of many unhappy effects wherever it is prac- 
 tised, in civil or domestic society. Among other fatal con- 
 sequences, it tends to debauch morals by offering power- 
 ful temptations to the violation of truth. In the oaths of 
 evidence, therefore, administered by the court, this except 
 tion is always understood to be implied. — The second is, 
 that evidence ought never to be extorted by torture. 
 This barbarous and irrational method of question has ob- 
 tained in most rude ages, and uncivilized nations. And it 
 
263 
 
 is but lately that it lias been disused in some of the polish- 
 ed countries of Europe. — Torture has, certainly, no rela- 
 tion to truth j but only to a man's power of enduring 
 pain. 
 
 On the remaining subjects under the head of jurispru- 
 dence, I shall content myself with very few and general 
 observations, as it is not the object of these lectures to 
 make complete jurists, but to sketch such an outline, and 
 present to you such comprehensive principles, as may 
 lead your future enquiries and be hereafter filled up 
 with advantage by study and experience. 
 
 OF THE DESIGN OF PUNISHMENTS IN CIVIL SOCIETY. 
 
 The most perfect idea of justice in apportioning pun- 
 ishment to guilt is the infliction of pains in exact propor- 
 tion to the moral depravity of the offender. But this 
 supposes a knowledge of the actions of men, and of the 
 dispositions and tendencies of the human heart, beyond 
 the sagacity and penetration of human tribunals, and is 
 the prerogative of that wisdom and power alone which 
 regulates the moral system of the universe. The penal 
 cedes of civil communities ought to have reference only 
 to the peace and order of the state. Crimes are punish- 
 able by them just so far as the public good is concerned. 
 This is the proper end of all civil penalties; and this end 
 indicates the proper measure of punishment for the 
 
264 
 
 various offences which disturb the order and tranquility 
 of society. Taking this principle for our guide, these 
 pains must relate either to the reparation to be made to 
 the sufferer by any crime, — to the reformation of the 
 criminal, — or to the restraint of future crimes in the 
 community, by the salutary example of the public justice. 
 — Reparation is the object principally in the view of the 
 law, and reformation, or restraint, only in a secondary 
 degree, if at all, in decrees compelling the fulfilment of 
 contracts, — in damages or fines assessed for slander; — 
 and for injuries arising from personal violence. — The 
 reformation of the offender is chiefly in view, and other 
 ends only incidentally, in those punishments which con- 
 sist in solitary confinement, either with, or without the 
 addition of hard labor: The labor being added, or omitted 
 by different legislators with the same view; either to 
 prepare the criminal for some industrious occupation 
 when the period of his punishment shall expire, by the 
 habits of employment during his confinement; or to in- * 
 cline him to seek for employment, by the pain of absolute 
 idleness, united with the self-compunction which natur- 
 ally springs up in the breast of an unoccupied culprit, 
 during the same period. The general restraint of crimes, 
 and the necessity of inspiring a salutary caution and fear 
 in those who are inclined to commit them, is the end in 
 
265 
 
 all capital executions, and in those penalties which con- 
 sist in public disgrace, and shame. 
 
 OF THE PROPORTION OF PUNISHMENTS, 
 
 The end for which the pains of the law are inflicted, 
 should serve, in some degree, to regulate their propor- 
 tion to the various offences they are destined to correct. 
 The severity of their pains is not always to be measured 
 by the actual depravity of heart indicated by the crime, 
 or the circumstances attending its commission, but to be 
 determined by other considerations immediately relative 
 to the public good. For example, the facility with which 
 certain acts injurious to the peace of society, or the pro- 
 perty of the citizens, may be committed, may require a 
 proportionably severer penalty to restrain them. There- 
 fore the stealing of sheep, and of horses has been punished 
 with greater rigor by the English law, and by the law 
 of several of the United States, than many simple felonies 
 which intrinsically cannot be regarded as less criminal 
 than these. For the same reason, stealing out of a shop, 
 is subjected to a higher penalty, than from a dwelling- 
 house, although the immorality of the latter, if estimated 
 by the hardened dispositions which lead to its perpetra- 
 tion, is, perhaps, greater than that of the shop-lifter. — - 
 The difficulty of detection is generally considered by the 
 
 law as affording ground for increasing the rigor of the 
 vol. ii. l I 
 
266 
 
 penalty. But, -where injuries may generally he guarded 
 against hy a reasonable degree of precaution and care, 
 the law seldom punishes with severity. Hence violations 
 of trust, although justly considered among the most 
 culpable of human actions, are generally passed over 
 with comparatively light animadversion. But where a 
 trust must necessarily be reposed, as in a servant in your 
 family, and no ordinary precaution can guard you against 
 the injurious effects of his unfaithfulness, there the 
 penalty again rises in its severity. 
 
 There are certain aggravations in the commission of 
 crimes which are ever regarded as reasonable causes for 
 increasing the rigor of the law. For example, their bold, 
 and frequent repetition; or their being accompanied 
 with circumstances of cruelty, or a hardened disregard 
 of the moral feelings of nature. They are proofs of such 
 malignant depravity of heart as is highly dangerous to 
 the peace and safety of society, and ought to subject the 
 culprits to the heavier pains. 
 
 Among the aggravations of crimes we may place in the 
 first rank, combinations for their perpetration. These 
 are accompanied with so much higher alarm, and greater 
 danger to the public peace, than any effort of individual 
 outrage could be, that such combinations merit to be 
 punished with an exemplary justice. And, among gangs 
 
267 
 
 of combined villains, it would be good policy in the law 
 to make a discrimination between the ringleaders, or 
 foremost actors in any criminal design, and the rest of 
 the band. Such discriminations will frequently con- 
 tribute to the more effectual detection of the most culpa- 
 ble, and to break the spirit of union which connects 
 them. It will serve at the same time, to impose some 
 check on the formation of similar combinations, and the 
 execution of their iniquitous purposes, from the difficulty 
 of finding those among them who will be hardy enough 
 to encounter so much greater risks than their com- 
 panions. 
 
 Crimes accompanied with terror to others, or with 
 riolence to their persons, and especially with danger to 
 life, have so much more pernicious an effect on the public 
 peace, and on all the most valuable ends for which men 
 enter into society, than simple thefts, or frauds, that they 
 require to be repressed by a severer hand. On this princi- 
 ple, burglaries perpetrated in the night are justly sub- 
 jected by the law to a higher penalty than the same 
 actions committed in the day. 
 
 Among frauds, forgeries have generally the most per- 
 nicious influence on society ; and among forgeries those 
 which affect the ordinary medium of commercial circu- 
 lation, suoh as bank notes, or bills of exchange, are more 
 
268 
 
 pernicious than those which consist in falsifying bonds, 
 mortgages, and such specialties as are not usually trans- 
 ferred from hand to hand, and may, therefore, be easily 
 detected. 
 
 But the highest species of crimes is of those which af- 
 fect the life of a citizen. These have been punished cap- 
 itally by the laws of all nations. Some political theorists, 
 under a mistaken feeling of humanity, have proposed the 
 abolition of capital punishments from the criminal code 
 universally, even for the crime of murder. This false 
 lenity would, probably, prove much more destructive to 
 human life than the law which inflicts death for this 
 highest offence against the peace of society. For one 
 murderer who might be reclaimed by solitary confine- 
 ment, and labor, or by any other private expedient, ten 
 would be invited to this cruel indulgence of their malig- 
 nant passions, by the hope of impunity. For, to the most 
 depraved part of society, a punishment removed from 
 the public view, and, therefore, soon forgotten, and which 
 should be known not to affect the life of the criminal, 
 would be regarded as an impunity for guilt. And cer- 
 tainly it cannot be desirable to expend the wealth, and 
 energies of society in the, almost, hopeless task of re- 
 claiming one hardened offender, at the imminent hazard 
 of the lives of many valuable citizens. But, if it would 
 be impolitic wholly to expunge capital punishments from 
 
269 
 
 the criminal jurisprudence of the state ; it is not less an 
 offence against reason and justice, to inflict death, with 
 the British law, on crimes of various degrees of malignity. 
 It appears to be doing violence to humanity, and the 
 common sentiments of mankind, to force crimes of the 
 most different grades, under one denomination, for the 
 sake of inflicting upon them a disproportioned punish- 
 ment. Thus, in the laws of England, and, in some in- 
 stances, in our own, which are borrowed from them, the 
 abused name of felony is made to involve a multitude of 
 crimes which have no relation to one another, but this 
 unhappy designation of name which serves to sweep them 
 all equally into the snare of death. — Many of the British 
 jurists vindicate, or excuse, this solecism in legislation, by 
 saying that all these crimes, in their highest grade, de- 
 serve an utter excision from the benefits of civil society, 
 and society has no severer penalty than death for the 
 most atrocious offences. If there are many degrees of 
 depravity indicated by different felonies, and there seems 
 to be an unnecessary cruelty in subjecting some of the 
 mildest of these to the severest sentence of the law, it is 
 said the constitution has provided a remedy for the most 
 obnoxious of these examples, by the power of reprieve 
 vested in the supreme executive magistrate. It is said, 
 by these politicians, that it is useful to the state that all 
 these criminals should lie under the fear of death de- 
 
270 
 
 nouneed by the law : and, at the same time, that the chief 
 executive authority of the nation should have it in his 
 power to provide for the interests of humanity by occa- 
 sionally rescuing a criminal of an inferior order from too 
 severe a fate. — I question, however, the wisdom of the 
 law, or the validity of the apology. 
 
 A great desideratum in the science of jurisprudence, 
 which, however, has hardly ever been attempted, is a 
 proper scale of crimes and punishments. And he would 
 deserve well of his country who should introduce such an 
 improvement into its legislation. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF PUNISHMENTS. 
 
 In the structure of the penal code of states, it is the 
 indication of a wise and prudent policy to derive its pun- 
 ishments as much as possible from the nature of the 
 crimes they are destined to correct. The proportion be- 
 tween the one, and the other, will, by this mean, be the 
 better preserved ; the justice of the punishment will be 
 the more obvious, both to the criminal and the public, 
 springing, as it is made to do, out of the nature of tlie 
 offence j and its effect, either as a corrective, or an ex- 
 ample, will be proportionably more useful. 
 
 In reference to this subject, crimes may be divided 
 into three principal classes, — 1, crimes against morals, — 
 
271 
 
 2, crimes against the public tranquility, which, however, 
 do not directly affect the security of individuals, — 3, 
 and lastly, crimes which immediately violate that securi- 
 ty. — In this partition, I do not include offences against 
 religion simply ; that is, for denying its doctrines, or dis- 
 senting from the ritual of its worship. For, although 
 most nations have interfered imprudently, and often 
 iniquitously, with the rights of religious opinion, and 
 worship, they are not properly objects of civil jurisdic- 
 tion ; but, relating wholly to spiritual ideas, and men's 
 spiritual concerns, they should be left to the moral and 
 corrective discipline of the respective religious societies. 
 But it should be carefully borne in mind, that this prin- 
 ciple does not exempt from adequate, and severe repre- 
 hension, all attempts made by profligate persons, or en- 
 thusiastic sects, to restrain the freedom of religious 
 opinion, or to disturb the order of religious devotion 
 among any denomination of men who profess to be em- 
 ployed in the worship of Almighty God. Such acts are 
 crimes against the public tranquility, and the security of 
 the citizen, and, as such, they are proper subjects of civil 
 pains. At the same time, no pretence of religious wor- 
 ship shall ever be admitted as a justifiable plea to cover 
 any illegal, or immoral act from the penalty of the law. 
 
 Crimes against morals, restricting this definition mere- 
 ly to those immoralities which are not accompanied with 
 
272 
 
 any acts of violence, or injury to others, may be punished 
 by disgrace, by fines, and, perhaps, in some instances, by 
 confinement and labor. 
 
 Crimes against public tranquility may be chastised by 
 imprisonment, solitude, exile, confiscation ; and by all 
 such correctives as are fitted to subdue, and tame restless 
 and turbulent spirits. — But, on this subject, it is worthy 
 of remark, that a great error is often committed in the 
 punishment of seditious and libellous writings. Writings 
 of this nature are generally grateful to the populace ; 
 and there is, commonly at least, a party in the state who 
 are ready to applaud them, and to receive their authors 
 with favor. To raise them to pillories, therefore, and to 
 other public situations of disgrace, is essentially defeat- 
 ing the end of correction. It attracts the sympathy, and 
 excites the attachment of their partizans : and the suffer- 
 ers are more gratified by the testimonies of the public 
 applause which surround them, than mortified by the 
 stigma attempted to be inflicted by the law. The laws, 
 and the magistrates, are both, by this means, exposed to 
 insult and contempt. 
 
 The penalties of crimes, in like manner, which violate 
 the security of the citizen in his person, or his property, 
 may be drawn from the nature of (he offence. They are 
 a kind of retaliation by which society requires damage*, 
 
273 
 
 or injuries which have been (lone to a fellow-citizen, to 
 be compensated by some equivalent ; or they result from 
 an act of the society by which it refuses security and 
 protection to those who have violated the security which 
 the law would extend to every member of the community. 
 
 The lex talionis of the Mosaic code, appears, on many 
 subjects, to be such an obvious measure of equity, that it 
 seems wonderful that it should not have been more intro- 
 duced into the jurisprudence of christian nations. Some 
 of the pains naturally arising from this rule, might, no 
 doubt, be frequently commuted with advantage by con- 
 sent of the injured party. For example, the loss of a 
 member, by which a poor man had been enabled to pro- 
 cure his subsistence, might be commuted for an annuity, 
 which might secure to him, during life, a sufficient, and 
 liberal provision. 
 
 Or THE MULTIPLICITY OF CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS. 
 
 It argues some defect of wisdom, and good policy, in a 
 state, when its jurisprudence is burdened with many capi- 
 tal offences. There is great risk that the government 
 become hateful to the humanity of the people. Or another 
 risk, perhaps not less injurious to society, is, lest the 
 public compassion be so much interested for the crimi- 
 nals that many of them shall be suffered to escape. 
 
 Every criminal that escapes the penalty of the law forms 
 vol. ii. Mm 
 
274 
 
 & new encouragement to crimes. The execution of the 
 law, in time, becomes a lottery, in which every culprit is 
 prone to count the chances in his own favor. Almost 
 every nation, in the very early stages of her career to- 
 wards civilization, finds it necessary to infuse great 
 severity into her penal code in order to repress the rude 
 passions of men not yet softened by literature and the 
 arts ; but if the same severity be retained in her laws 
 after she has attained a high degree of refinement in her 
 sentiments and manners, it is requisite, for the sake of 
 humanity, that a power of reprieve be lodged in some de- 
 partment of the government, capable of exercising it with 
 a wise discretion. But perhaps the wisest policy is to 
 make few offences capital, and then the law inexorable. 
 
 OF THE ENDS OF FUNISHMENT. 
 
 The penalties of the law, it is said, have, besides repa* 
 ration to the sufferers by crimes, two ends in view, cor- 
 rection and example. The latter purpose alone can be 
 served by capital punishments. Correction is most effec- 
 tually promoted by solitary confinement ; especially if 
 combined with constant labor in some industrious profes- 
 sion. A vicious man can ill bear reflection on himself : 
 and the reflections of solitude have often been found the 
 most powerful means of reformation. On the other hand, 
 public disgrace only hardens guilt, and renders villainy 
 but the more incurable. 
 
275 
 OF SANGUINiJIY PUNISHMENTS. 
 
 Civil society was not instituted for the purpose of ex= 
 ereising an atrocious vengeance on those unhappy men 
 who are so thoughtless, or so wicked, as to disturb its 
 peace. The greatness and strength of the nation should 
 render it superior to cruelty in the administration of its 
 laws, which is the property only of weakness, and the 
 uncertain possession of power. But in a republic, san- 
 guinary punishments are peculiarly dangerous. They dc 
 inonstrate, and they hasten the decay of the public virtue, 
 which is the only secure foundation of the public pros- 
 perity. If ever the state is obliged to resort to severity, 
 as may sometimes be the case in tumultuary seasons of 
 insurrection, and treason, as few victims as possible 
 should be subjected to the axe of the law ; and the re- 
 public should immediately return to her usual mildness 
 and lenity. — The extent, and severity of the proscriptions 
 of Sylla, though made in the name of the public good, 
 and directed principally against a low and turbulent fac^ 
 tioo, hastened the ruin of Roman liberty. 
 
276 
 LECTURE XXVI. 
 
 OF POLITICS. 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Of the general principles of government relating to the 
 constitution of states.— The same form of government 
 not calculated for every nation — Of the different forms 
 of government, and the springs of their action — Of 
 laivs relative to the constitution of the government — Of 
 laws relative to despotism— to monarchy — Of the body 
 of nobility in a monarchy — Of the judiciary body. — 
 Of the nobles in an aristocracy — Of a permanent ma- 
 gistracy in that government invested with extraordina- 
 ry powers, to detect and restrain the ambitious projects 
 of the nobles — Jtft excellent arislocratical institution — 
 Of laivs relative to a democracy — Of the classification 
 of the citizens by Servius Tullus, and by Solon — Of a 
 senate as a preparatory council ; or as an integral part 
 of the political constitution — The question, whether a 
 democracy ought to be simple or representative? — If 
 representative, whether the popular suffrage ought to be 
 universal, or limited? — Of limitation to the possession 
 of real estate — Of regulating the times, places, and 
 manner of voting — Whether the votes ought to be given 
 
 oj2nl y or by ballot ? 
 
277 
 
 THE next branch of the philosophy of legislation 
 which presents itself to onr consideration, comprehends 
 those general principles of government which relate to 
 the constitution of states, and to the great objects of na- 
 tional policy, such as taxation, population, revenue, and 
 commerce, constituting peculiarly the science of politics; 
 or of the forms, and regulations of the civil communities 
 of mankind. 
 
 When Solon was asked if he had given the Athenians 
 the best civil institutions, he replied, that he had given 
 them the best they were able to bear. This answer points to 
 a principle which lies at the foundation of political sci- 
 ence ; that the forms of civil government ought to be 
 varied according to the character and manners of the 
 people for whom they are designed, as well as according 
 to all those exterior circumstances of climate, or geo- 
 graphical description, such as waters, mountains, plains, 
 &c. which have any influence upon the occupations, 
 habits, and spirit of the country. It results hence, that 
 no single form of government is to be considered as ab- 
 solutely, and universally best : but the perfection of any 
 civil institution is wholly a relative idea to the state of 
 the nation to which it is adapted. A wise policy must 
 have relation to so many circumstances both in the inte- 
 rior, and external state of the people to be regulated bj 
 
278 
 
 % that those forms Avhieh might be evidently best for one 
 aation, may be among the worst for another. 
 
 Yet there can be no doubt that there are some political 
 institutions* where they can be prudently adopted, which 
 are more favorable than others to equal liberty, to all the 
 great, or useful exertions of the human faculties, and to 
 the happiness of the citizen. Fortunate it is for any peo- 
 ple, when their previous state has prepared them to re- 
 ceive such forms of government as have been constructed 
 on principles of the soundest political reason ; or when? 
 like Lycurgus, the talents of a legislator have been able 
 to accommodate to his intended institutions the habits^ 
 maimers, and sentiments of a whole nation. 
 
 I purpose, in the first place, to make a few observa- 
 tions on the principal forms of civil government which 
 have existed among mankind, and on the springs of ac- 
 tion, respectively, which govern their operations. I shall 
 afterwards point out some of the great objects of national 
 policy which its legislators ought profoundly to under- 
 stand, in order that they may be able, with the greatest 
 success, to promote the public interests entrusted to their 
 vigilance and wisdom. 
 
 O-F THE DIFFERENT FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, AND THE 
 SPRINGS OF THEIR ACTION. 
 
 The different simple forms of political institution, 
 which have existed in the world, out of which all others 
 
Lave been compounded, are, as has been mentioned ii^* 
 former lecture, despotism, civilized monarchy, aristocra- 
 cy, and democracy. The principal features which dis- 
 criminate these forms of government from one another, 
 were then pointed out. I shall, at present, only add a few 
 remarks on the different springs by which the operations 
 of these governments are respectively actuated. 
 
 A great writer, whose opinions have received almost 
 the authority of axioms in political science, has reduced 
 these springs to four, fear, honor, moderation, and virtue. 
 In a despotism, fear of the despot, or a dismaying ap- 
 prehension of his power, and his passions, is the principle 
 of obedience in every order of the state, from his minis- 
 ters, down to the lowest of his people, who are all equally 
 his slaves.~In a monarchy, a certain love of distinction 
 attaches his subjects to the prince, who is the fountain of 
 honor ; and, by creating a universal zeal to serve him, be- 
 comes the actuating spirit of the government. Honor is 
 an ennobling principle, which often elevates the mind to 
 great and beneficial enterprize, and infuses into the char- 
 acter of a nation a high portion of energy, in the culti- 
 vation of the arts, as well as of war. Its sentiments are not 
 always coincident with the dictates of the moral faculty ; 
 yet are they found, in many instances, useful auxiliaries 
 to virtue. Honor, although supremely devoted to the ser- 
 vice of the prince, forms to itself laws which the prince 
 
280 
 
 I 1 ' ' nself cannot violate. No authority can oblige a man of 
 honor to commit an action which, by these laws, is held 
 to be dishonorable, or unworthy his rank and station. la 
 this view, it is a principle of political action infinitely su- 
 perior to the servile fear of despotic states. For, although 
 many of its rules are capricious, and admit of a union of 
 its generous qualities with vices of a particular descrip- 
 tion, yet they always aim at a certain pitch of morals, 
 and are generally favorable to a certain degree of civil 
 liberty in the government. 
 
 In those states in which the supreme power is lodged in 
 the body of the people, the principle of the government is 
 said, by the same great political writer, to be virtue. 
 This principle, as it is explained by him, is the general 
 preference of the public, to private interest. And, united 
 with this, it involves the love, and strong attachment of 
 the people to the democracy itself, as being the form of 
 government best calculated to promote the public good, 
 and most friendly to public morals. It is justly denomina- 
 ted virtue j not only because genuine public spirit is itself 
 one of the chief virtues, but is intimately associated with 
 frugality, temperance, justice, piety, respect for religion, 
 and all those noble qualities, most immediately related to 
 the great interests of the community. When these decline, 
 public spirit speedily follows the declension, and the na- 
 tional glory and happiness sink with them. 
 
281 
 
 In aristocracies a degree of public virtue may exist ; 
 but it is rather the love of the aristocracy, than of the 
 people. A high spirit of virtue, such as has been before 
 described, can hardly subsist, or be of long duration in 
 those states in which the ranks and fortunes of men are 
 so extremely unequal. The nobles will be haughty, and 
 the people envious. Equal civil rights are not known in 
 such a government. The establishment of the privileges 
 of the people would be regarded as inconsistent with the 
 prerogatives of the nobility. Even the prosperity of that 
 humiliated body is apt to be considered as obnoxious to 
 the dignity, and dangerous to the security of their lords. 
 Such a people will seldom be heartily attached to a gov- 
 ernment in which they are almost annihilated ; and they 
 have continually before their eyes petty princes, but little 
 elevated above themselves, who, yet, are their absolute 
 masters. The highest virtue, therefore, which can be ex- 
 pected in this form of constitution, and which, indeed, is 
 necessary to render it tolerable, is mutual relaxation in 
 the spirit and claims on each side, in these great parties. 
 The people will more easily be brought into this temper 
 when they find a spirit of moderation prevailing among 
 the nobles. 
 
 It is natural for the lower class to look for this exam- 
 ple first among their superiors. This condescension is 
 vol. ii. n n 
 
282 
 
 becoming their rank, and the refinements of their educa- 
 tion. Moderation, therefore, of the nobility among them- 
 selves, in the arrogance of their spirit ; and towards their 
 inferiors in the insolence of their claims, is the proper 
 spring of this government. 
 
 "When a legislator has conceived the idea of his consti- 
 tution, and of the spring by which it is to be set in mo- 
 tion, the whole system of his laws will, of course, be mod- 
 elled according to these principles. 
 
 OF LAWS RELATIVE TO THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 The first class of laws is of those which define and 
 establish the form of government, and compose the co?i- 
 stitution of the state. In a constitution in which any se- 
 cure provision is made for the happiness, or the liberties 
 of the people, its boundaries ought to be fixed with pre- 
 cision, and its powers, accurately defined and distributed, 
 that there may be no doubt in the rulers with respect to 
 their authority, nor in the people with respect to their 
 privileges ; and that the authority, and duties of one branch 
 of the magistracy may not clash, or interfere with those 
 of another. 
 
 Or LAW S RELATIVE TO MONARCHY. 
 
 The fundamental laws of monarchy, are those which 
 vest the supreme authority in the prince, and establish 
 
283 
 
 his prerogative. Thus far they agree with the principle 
 of a despotic state. But in order to mingle a portion of 
 liberty in the constitution, which is essential to a civilized 
 monarchy, but is excluded under a despotism, it is neces- 
 sary that there should exist in the state an intermediate 
 hody between the prince and the people, possessed of pri- 
 vileges and powers independent on the will of the sove- 
 reign. Their dignity, and the decided weight of influence, 
 attached to hereditary rank and wealth, will concur to 
 impose no inconsiderable check upon arbitrary power. 
 The laws, therefore, which ascertain, and fix the privi- 
 leges of the elass of the nobles, are, likewise, funda- 
 mental to this constitution. 
 
 A distinction of great importance between a despotism 
 and civilized monarchy is, that the latter enjoys known, 
 written, and fixed laws ; under the former, the will of 
 the sovereign is the law. A despotic state, therefore, 
 can hardly be said to enjoy a constitution. Its powers and 
 privileges are all thrown into one mass, and absorbed by 
 the throne. 
 
 In order that the law may be rendered fixed in a mon- 
 archy, and freed from the variableness and uncertainty 
 of the prince's humor and will, it is of high importance 
 there should be established a body of men, distinguished 
 for integrity, and knowledge, such as existed iu France 
 
2S-i 
 
 previous to the late revolution, who may be the interpre- 
 ters, and, in some measure, the fountain of the laws,— » 
 whose office it shall be to give form to the civil code, — to 
 expunge from it those laws which are no longer proper,—, 
 to revive those which are obsolete, but useful,— to pro- 
 pose to the prince new ones for his adoption, which may 
 be conducive to the benefit of the state, and to prevent the 
 introduction of such as are contradictory to the establish- 
 ed code, or inconsistent with the ancient privileges of 
 any order of the monarchy. Another fundamental insti- 
 tution, therefore, in this form of government, is the es- 
 tablishment of such a depository of the laws. Happy is it 
 for the state, when either accident, or political wisdom, 
 and foresight, has been able to fix this body in such a 
 manner as to contribute to the freedom and security of 
 the citizen. The nobility are generally too indolent, and 
 too ignorant of law, for a trust of this nature. A body ap- 
 pointed by the monarch, and wholly dependent on the in- 
 fluence of the crown, would be still less fitted for the task. 
 It would be, in effect, making the will of the prince the 
 law. The best depository, says the author of the spirit of 
 laws, is a body of men taken from the midst of the people, 
 but advanced, by their office, to a middle rank between 
 the nobility and the inferior orders of the state. 
 
 A portion of liberty may be introduced into this govern- 
 ment by the manner of creating and modelling the ordi* 
 
285 
 
 nary courts of justice. The fundamental institutions of 
 the monarchy ought to render the tribunals as independ- 
 ent as the nature of the government will permit. Fixed 
 laws, and independent judges, will create an idea of secu- 
 rity in the citizens for their persons, and property, and, in 
 so far, a sense of liberty, under the most arbitrary consti- 
 tution of civil policy. 
 
 Above all, it should be an invariable maxim of the state, 
 that this administration of the laws be not retained in 
 the hands of the prince, nor committed to his courtiers, 
 who are but the minions of his power and will. This or- 
 ganization of the tribunals would justly render the mon- 
 arch formidable to his subjects ; whereas it is of supreme 
 importance to his interest, and his happiness, to acquire 
 their confidence and love, by keeping his power out of 
 their view. 
 
 Why, it may be asked, do we speak of fixed laws and 
 fundamental institutions in a monarchy, in which the 
 power of the prince is supreme ? — Tt knows no eifectual 
 limits, it is said, but those which it is pleased to prescribe 
 to itself. — Be it so. — But those limits, being once estab- 
 lished, acquire, by time, great strength in the opinions of 
 the people, and in the ideas of the prince himself. And 
 he cannot, afterwards, easily or safely violate them, even 
 if lie were tyrannically inclined. Manners, customs, an- 
 
286 
 
 eient usages, become so incorporated into the state, and 
 manner of thinking of a people, especially, if they have 
 been accustomed to enjoy any portion of liberty of thought 
 and action, that it is hazardous to infringe them. And 
 when they are supported by the opulence, and influence of 
 a powerful nobility, they acquire such stability, as justly 
 to entitle them to the name of laivs. They are not mere 
 forms to cover the horrors of despotic power ', but afford 
 real and substantial grounds on which the subject may 
 rest the foundation of his property, and his sense of per- 
 sonal security. 
 
 OF LAWS RELATIVE TO ARISTOCRACY. 
 
 In an aristocracy, the first order of laws is of those which 
 ascertain the body of the nobility ; thereby defining those- 
 who have a right to be rulers, and those who must ne- 
 cessarily be subjects. 
 
 It is a pernicious aristocratical institution which per- 
 mits all the nobles, in right of their birth, to be legisla- 
 tors and magistrates. The oppression of the people then 
 becomes extreme. On the other hand, when only a small 
 part of their body can, at any one period, be raised to the 
 senate, the selection affords a much fairer prospect that 
 the government will be managed with equity, and a libe- 
 ral regard to the natural rights of the people. For, by 
 this means, becoming, in their turn, subjects of the laws, 
 
287 
 
 their own condition is, in some measure, assimilated to 
 that of the mass of the community. A sympathy with the 
 lower orders, will he created by their own experience, 
 which will naturally be productive of greater mildness, 
 and humanity in the administration of the powers of gov- 
 ernment. And it should be received as an axiomatic prin- 
 ciple in that form of civil policy, that, the greater the dis- 
 proportion is between the numbers of the senate, and the 
 whole body of the nobles, the greater will be the free- 
 dom, and the happiness of the people. 
 
 The institution is the best possible, when the people, 
 as well as the nobles, partake in the election of the senate, 
 and the magistrates. 
 
 The necessity of controlling the amjbition of the noble 
 families, and of early detecting and punishing conspiracies 
 against the state, which are more frequent and formida- 
 ble in this form of government than in most others, re- 
 quires a body of magistracy for the purpose to be estab- 
 lished by the fundamental laws of the republic. In the 
 exercise of this authority against powerful nobles, it is 
 necessary that these magistrates be invested with such 
 great, and discretionary powers as, in their operation, 
 may sometimes prove tyrannical. Without such high 
 and uncontrollable authority, the institution of the cen- 
 sors at Rome, of the ephori at Sparta, and the state in- 
 
288 
 
 quisitors at Venice, could not effect the purpose of their 
 institution against such great criminals. 
 
 There may sometimes exist particular crises of public 
 clanger in democratic republics, in which it may be re- 
 quisite, for the general safety, to invest an individual cit- 
 izen with unlimited powers, like those conferred on the 
 dictators at Rome. The duration of these powers, how- 
 ever, being limited to a very short period, the govern- 
 ment soon returns to its regular, and accustomed chan- 
 nels. But, in aristocracies, the ambition and pride of the 
 great families often render their passions, enterprizes, 
 and factious pursuits, hereditary, and perpetual. To 
 check an evil attended with such continual danger to the 
 state, she is obliged to have recourse to a perpetual ma- 
 gistracy. The great {wealth, and powerful influence of 
 the nobility tends to make them haughty, obstinate, and 
 intractable. It is dangerous to become their aceuser. 
 And the ordinary tribunals are too weak to punish them. 
 This magistracy, therefore, should be able to avail itself 
 of secret means of information ; nor should it be fettered 
 in its judgments by tedious forms, and delays, but have it 
 in its power, by the promptness, and severity of its pun- 
 ishments, to apply a cure to this inherent vice of the con- 
 stitution. 
 
 As the great distinctions of wealth, with the almost 
 exclusive means of acquiring it, possessed by the scnato- 
 
289 
 
 rian order, above the common mass of the people, are the 
 sources of the principal disorders of this state, it is of 
 importance that the laws should apply some palliatives to 
 the evil, which, because it is too inveterate to be directly 
 attacked, or entirely extirpated, may be hoped, in time, 
 by a silent and imperceptible progress, to relieve some 
 of its worst effects. Accordingly, Montesquieu remarks, 
 that it would be a good aristocratical institution, to make 
 a certain degree of wealth, acquired by a commoner, 
 confer nobility ; and, at the same time, to preclude the 
 nobles from commercial pursuits. For, when they are 
 permitted to become merchants, their rank, and opulence 
 forms an almost exclusive monopoly in their favor ; aud 
 a vulgar citizen, embarked in trade, must enter into a 
 most unequal competition with them. It is of use, by such 
 regulations, at once to restrain the cupidity of the higher 
 orders of the state, and to open to the people a prospect 
 of rising, by their industry, above their original rank. 
 
 But, perhaps, one of the most effectual, and, at the 
 same time, least invidious checks to the accumulation of 
 exorbitant wealth in one family, and the arrogant preten- 
 sions to which it is apt to give rise, is the posthumous di- 
 vision of great estates according to some legal and equit- 
 able rule, prescribed by the legislator. This may be ac- 
 complished, partly by the prudent regulations of the law 
 
 vol. ii. o o 
 
290 
 
 concerning inheritances, and testamentary settlements ', 
 and partly by custom, over whieh the ideas of the law 
 possess, in time, an important influence. 
 
 OF XAWS RELATIVE TO DEMOCRACY. 
 
 In a Democracy the people frame the laws by which 
 the}' themselves are to be governed. In a constitution of 
 this kind, in which the people, in person, are to deliberate 
 and decide, and perform all the functions of legislation, 
 as was the casein most of the ancient republics, the fun- 
 damental institutions of the state should secure to the 
 body of the citizens the right of deliberating, and voting ; 
 and particularly define the manner in which this right 
 shall be exercised. The constitution should point out the 
 authority by which the public assemblies shall be called, 
 — the times and places of their convening, — the order to 
 be observed in them, — and the manner in which all ques- 
 tions shall be proposed, and issued. As this is the way in 
 which the people, in whom all power resides, exercise 
 their sovereignty, the right cannot be too strongly as- 
 serted, nor the mode of exercising it too clearly defined. 
 
 As large assemblies of the people, the mass of whom 
 are ignorant and turbulent, are liable to be inflamed by 
 the address and arts of factious orators, and hurried, by 
 momentary impulses, into measures unjust, cruel, and 
 contrary to their own interests, the ancient legislators 
 
• 291 
 
 endeavored, as far as possible, to prevent these tumult ua* 
 ry movements, by the peculiar order introduced into the 
 elections. The famous division of the Roman people into 
 six classes, made by Servius Tullus for this purpose, is 
 so well known as to need no illustration. By this politi- 
 cal arrangement none of the citizens were deprived of 
 their rights of suffrage ; but they were so artificially dis- 
 posed, that property, and information must generally 
 prevail over ignorance, and poverty. The Athenians 
 were divided by Solon into four classes, according to their 
 property ; one object of which division was to limit the 
 eligibility of citizens to offices which required informa- 
 tion, or involved any important public trust ; while the 
 elective franchise was sacredly preserved to every citizen. 
 It was a principle with Solon that citizens, of the lowest 
 grade in the republic, may, from public fame, or their 
 own observation of the actions of their fellow-citizens, be 
 able to chuse a magistrate, although they are wholly un- 
 qualified to discharge the functions of the magistracy. 
 In consequence of this principle, he ordained that the 
 public magistrates should be eligible out of the three 
 former classes only j but judges in legal trials, an order 
 equivalent to our juries, might be chosen out of the last 
 of the four classes, comprehending that numerous body 
 who were destitute of real property. 
 
292 • 
 
 In a simple democracy, in which the people decide all 
 things in person, a senate to digest and prepare the busi- 
 ness for the public assemblies is an institution of singular 
 utility. It often prevents the precipitancy and rashness 
 to which such assemblies are prone, when the introduc- 
 tion of business to their deliberation is left to accident, or 
 the caprice of individuals, and its decision to the heated 
 impulse of the moment. It imposes some check on the 
 dangerous arts of demagogues, whose success depends 
 upon being able to inflame the passions of the populace, 
 and often on taking them by surprize. 
 
 The institutions which have been just named, of the 
 classification of the citizens, and of a senate of previous 
 deliberation, are superfluous in republics where the people 
 do not discuss their political questions, and make their 
 legislative decisions in the general assembly, but by their 
 representatives. A representative body will usually pos- 
 sess more temper and wisdom, than any unpurified, popu- 
 lar mass. Still, however, a senate, not as a preparatory 
 organ, but as an integral part of the legislature, is useful, 
 and perhaps necessary in every wise, and well-ordered 
 government. A single body of legislators, especially if 
 it be numerous, and act without having its measures 
 subject to revision, is often liable to the influence of pop- 
 ular passions, to sudden impulses, and to factious intrigue. 
 A senate, as a second branch in the legislature, is ealcu- 
 
293 
 
 lated in a great degree to prevent, or correct those evils, 
 not only by the superior age which the laws may require 
 in its members, and by the manner of its appointment, 
 which may be made more favorable to the selection of the 
 wisdom and experience of the nation, than can be done in 
 popular elections, but simply by the circumstance of its 
 being a separate body. The same violent impulse, or the 
 same factious influence will probably seldom operate in 
 an equal degree upon both assemblies at the same time. 
 The moderation and prudence of the one, when factions 
 do exist, will frequently restrain the impetuosity and 
 rashness of the other. The same men can hardly be sup- 
 posed to acquire a leading influence in both. And differ- 
 ent leaders, admitting that they are equally governed by 
 ambitious, or by mercenary views, will seldom find their 
 interests coincide. Mutual opposition will therefore im- 
 pose a powerful, and mutual restraint on all improper de- 
 signs ; and hardly leave them any other point of union but 
 the public good. 
 
 "Whether a democracy ought to be simple, or represent- 
 ative in its structure, w ill depend in a great measure on its 
 territorial extent. If it be confined to a^iugle city, ami 
 its environs, we may pronounce it, as a general rule, that 
 the government ought to be simple, and the legislative 
 power be vested in the general assembly of the citizens. 
 If it be placed in a selected body of representatives, ex- 
 
29i 
 
 eept for the general purpose of preparing business to be 
 laid before the assembled citizens, the facility with which 
 a turbulent populace can be collected at any time, by de- 
 signing men to dictate their imperious will on subjects 
 already submitted to the discussion of the legislature, will 
 give to their irregular and violent meetings a decided in- 
 fluence over every important legislative deliberation. The 
 people, acting in person in such republics, would soon ab- 
 sorb into their own assemblies, all the powers which they 
 had pretended to commit to the assembly of their repre- 
 sentatives. Hence the little states of Greece never re- 
 sorted to the principle of representation, except in their 
 confederated capacity in the council of the amphyctions, 
 when the fear of some formidable neighboring power 
 compelled certain states to enter into a mutual league for 
 their common defence. For the same reason we have 
 seen, during the turbulent period of the revolution in 
 France, the national assembly of that ephemeral repub- 
 lic, so often controlled in its deliberations by the mob of 
 Paris. 
 
 It is a political question of no small importance, as the 
 way in which it'shall be answered, may affect the tran- 
 quility of the state, and the wisdom of its government, — 
 whether the election of the representatives, and of the of- 
 ficers to fill any magistracy which may be in the gift of 
 the people, shall be made by a universal, or limited suf- 
 
295 
 
 frage ,• and, if limited, what shall be the qualifications of 
 the electors ? — Universal suffrage is always dangerous, at 
 least in the course of time, to the tranquility of the state, 
 and to the prudence of its administration. The mass of 
 the populace is necessarily ignorant ; and, through igno- 
 rance, exposed to have their opinions easily misled, and 
 their passions inflamed by the insidious arts, and the vio- 
 lent harangues of unprincipled and ambitious citizens. 
 The popular and fickle tides raised by these arts will 
 often have an undue influence over the opinions and 
 actions of their subservient representatives. Either the 
 people will chuse men who are deeply tinctured with their 
 own prejudices, or inflamed with their own passions ; or 
 the representative, who is humbly ambitious to gain their 
 precarious favor, and keep his place in the government, 
 will be disposed tamely to yield his opinion to their vio- 
 lent and variable impulse. The character of the repre- 
 sentative assembly under the influence of such electors 
 will be gradually deteriorated, and sink, in point of in- 
 formation and respectability, towards the level of their 
 uninformed constituents. The probability of obtaining a 
 wise, and judicious representation will be much increas- 
 ed by restricting the elective franchise by some rule of 
 property. The restriction established in most of the Uni- 
 ted States to a sum so small that the poorest laborer may 
 justly estimate the use of his hands for a few days, at a 
 
296 
 
 higher rate, is, at once, an acknowledgment of the po- 
 litical justice of the principle, and an utter evasion of the 
 benefit which might be derived from it. It is obviously 
 throwing open the rights of suffrage to the broadest uni- 
 versality. The whole purpose of limiting these rights, if 
 it have any meaning, is to place the elective powers of the 
 community in the hands of those who, by their property, 
 have the most ample means of information, and the deep- 
 est interest in the public welfare : at the same time, in 
 order to escape the rocks of aristocracy, the qualifica- 
 tions to entitle a citizen to vote, ought to be made so lib- 
 eral as to include in the electoral class the greatest num- 
 bers which may be consistent with the true interests of 
 the state. To accomplish this end, that standard of pro- 
 perty should be chosen which is most visible and fixed, 
 and, in its nature, most intimately connects the interests 
 of the proprietor with those of the republic. Money alone, 
 or the ordinary, circulating signs of value, are so easily 
 transferable to any other country, and are, besides, so 
 much out of the view of the public, and afford such an un- 
 certain ratio of wealth, that they seem to be very unfitly 
 chosen as the electoral criterion. But laud being the basis 
 of the republic, from the products of which the citizens 
 must necessarily be supported, property in the soil seems 
 the best criterion of that active citizenship on which elec- 
 tion and representation ought to be founded. The rcqui- 
 
, ■> 
 
 297 
 
 sition of real property, morfever, lo enjoy the right of vo- 
 ting lessens that vast, and indefinite multitude which 
 would otherwise claim the franchise, and which, from 
 their numbers, would be so easily thrown into tumult, 
 and agitated by any dominant and popular passion. A Yery 
 dense, and uninformed population, which possesses a share 
 in the elective privilege, will, on all those occasions which 
 greatly agitate the public mind, as elections for the leg- 
 islators and governors of the country always do, contain 
 in itself a strong tendency to turbulence and disorder. 
 This tendency is much restrained by a thin population ; 
 or, what amounts to the same thing in effect, restricting 
 the number of electors, by requiring the qualification of 
 real property to the exercise of the franchise. Hence it 
 is, that the great political movements in the United States 
 of America have been distinguished by a coolness of tem- 
 per which has rarely been found, in similar circumstances, 
 in other countries. The sparseness of our population has 
 prevented that excitement to the passions which is created 
 in great assemblies roused into a ferment by the interests 
 of a nation. That moderation, which has been so much 
 our own boast, and the wonder of other nations, has arisen 
 principally from the circumstance just named, together 
 with its natural consequence, the general political infor- 
 mation of the popular mass. Time, and the multiplica- 
 tion of our citizen?, will produeea change, itistobe fear- 
 vol. ii. i'p 
 
ed, less favorable to this peculiar boast of our country. 
 A selected electoral class, distinguished by a fixed proper- 
 ty in the soil, besides affording the opportunity of better 
 information in that body, and the certainty of a stronger 
 union of individual, with the public interest, will contain 
 in itself a powerful principle of tranquility and modera- 
 tion in all the interior movements of the state, by the 
 sparseness of that portion of the population which pos- 
 sesses an immediate and strongly exciting connexion with 
 the government by its elective franchises. In this res- 
 pect the state of Virginia possesses, at present, the best 
 organized system of any republic in the American con- 
 federacy. And it requires no uncommon political sagacity 
 to foresee that many of the other states will, hereafter, 
 regret the want of a like restrictive qualification in their 
 electoral body. 
 
 As the sovereignty of the people in a democratical 
 form of government is exercised by a vote, it should be 
 among the primary and fundamental laws of such a state 
 to regulate the times, the places, and the manner of giv- 
 ing in their suffrages. 
 
 On this subject, the principal question among politi- 
 cians has been, whether the popular vote should be taken 
 openly, or by ballot ? — Perhaps all offices which are in 
 the gift of the people, whether legislative or executive, 
 
290 
 
 should be conferred by open vote. With them a degree 
 of intrigue is useful; otherwise, their public affections 
 are prone to become torpid, and inactive. 
 
 In the legislative body, likewise, all laws should be en- 
 acted by the most open and public vote, that the people 
 may know in what manner they are served. On the other 
 hand, all offices bestowed by the legislature ought to be 
 given by ballot. A selected assembly like this, being 
 supposed to be more capable, than the multitude, of 
 judging with candor and prudence of the merits of differ- 
 ent candidates for places of public trust, intrigue would 
 here be improper. Every legislator, ought to be most 
 free, and exempted from any bias, but that created by 
 talents, and virtue, in exercising his judgment. 
 
300 
 
 LECTURE XXVII. 
 
 OF THE RELATION OF A GOVERNMENT TO THE SPIRIT* 
 
 AND MANNERS OF A PEOPLE OF THE CORRUPTION OF 
 
 ITS PRINCIPLE — OF FRUGALITY, &C. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Of the spirit of a people, and the relation which a govern- 
 ment ought to hear to it — Of the influence of laws to 
 effect a change in the spirit and manners of the people>— 
 Of the laivs of education — Of the corruption of the spirit 
 of a government, or the principle of the constitution — 
 Of the corruption of the principle of monarchy — Of the 
 corruption of democracy — Of frugality, and the means 
 of promoting it. 
 
 A VARIETY of concurring circumstances, con- 
 tinuing to operate upon a nation for a long time, contri- 
 bute to form what is called its spirit, and to give a na- 
 tional and distinctive character to its manners. Among 
 these the peculiar occupations of the people, — their pov- 
 erty or wealth, — the extent of the territory, — the face 
 and fertility of the country, — the climate, — proximity to 
 other nations, — preceding revolutions of government,— 
 prevalent ideas of morals, or religion ; in a word, what- 
 ever can affect their external, or internal state, have a 
 
301 
 
 peculiar influence on the ultimate effect. Whenever a 
 nation has acquired fixed manners and customs, and a 
 distinguishing character, and spirit, the government, and 
 the laws ought to regard them with respect, and never at- 
 tempt too directly to contradict them, or too violently to 
 change them. Laws, otherwise the best, may become ty- 
 rannical ; for that tyranny is no less real which attempts 
 to control our opinions, or which violates our manners, 
 than that which affects our lives, or our property. The 
 efforts of legislators, and rulers to contradict the spirit of 
 a people have frequently been productive of so many po- 
 litical evils, that it is eligible to submit to some imper- 
 fections in the government, rather than aim at too great 
 theoretic perfection. It is better to bear with some partial 
 evils in the laws, than to hazard a convulsion by attempt- 
 ing to reform too much. This forms the explanation of 
 those declarations in the sacred seriptures in which it is 
 said that God permitted certain evils in the civil and po- 
 litical state of the Jewish nation, on account of the hard- 
 ness of their hearts, — that is, the inveteracy of certain 
 habits and customs which civil rulers can seldom attack 
 without encountering greater risks, or suffering greater 
 evils than would arise from their continuance. The same 
 reflection unfolds, and vindicates the meaning of Moses, 
 when, speaking in the name of God, he says, I have given 
 them statutes that were not good,— .though relatively wise, 
 
302 
 
 as they respected the state, and progress in civility and 
 manners of that nation, they were not absolutely perfect. 
 An example of which imperfection, that finds its justifi- 
 cation in the same principle, is seen in the sanguinary 
 penal laws of that great legislator. A people who have 
 not made great advances in the refinements of civiliza- 
 tion, who are comparatively rude in their manners, and 
 prompt to violence, require the restraints of a severe 
 criminal code. This maxim we find verified in the legis- 
 lation of all nations in the early periods of their exist- 
 ence. A scale of punishments proportioned to the malig- 
 nity of crimes is beyond the legislative philosophy of such 
 a people, except so far as the simple principle of retalia- 
 tion can be applied. For a corrective code, they have 
 neither the skill to frame one, nor the patience necessary 
 to carry it into execution. 
 
 The principle may be still farther illustrated by a re- 
 ference to people of different characters and pursuits. 
 The laws adapted to a nation wholly devoted to the cul- 
 tivation of the soil, would be little lilted to another ex- 
 clusively occupied in the adventurous risks, and extensive 
 designs of commerce. Israel, or Sparta could not have 
 prudently exchanged their civil, or political systems with 
 Tyre, or with Rhodes. Laws suited to French levity, and 
 vanity, would ill assort with Spanish gravity and pride. 
 The institutions of Athens would have overturned Spar- 
 
303 
 
 ta ,* and an attempt to introduce the code of Lycurgus at 
 Vlhens would have produced a civil revolution. In the 
 century before the last, we have seen England attempt to 
 establish a republic ; but her manners were not adapted 
 to such a change, and, after yielding for a season to the 
 power of a bold usurper, she was obliged, at last, to take 
 refuge again in the monarchy she had thought to aban- 
 don. It remains yet to be proved whether the manners 
 and spirit of the French nation can support the democra- 
 cy at which they are aiming ; or, whether they will not, 
 after infinite miseries and convulsions, be obliged to have 
 recourse again to their exiled nobility, and royal family, 
 or must have the ferocity of their passions repressed by 
 the iron hand of some more powerful despot that shall 
 spring out of the flames of this volcano.* 
 
 As laws, whether political, or civil, ought to be rela- 
 tive, to a certain degree, to the spirit and manners of a 
 nation ; it is sometimes desirable, likewise, to introduce 
 a gradual change into the public manners; to which the 
 laws may sometimes be made to operate by a reflex influ- 
 ence. But, as manners, ancient customs, and habitual 
 
 * These lectures were prepared in the years 1793 — 4, and 
 the author was stigmatized by some indiscreet zealots, for not 
 possessing that ardent spirit ofliberty which couid entertain no 
 doubt of the success of that extraordinary revolution ; and that 
 the world was unquestionably going to be regenerated, in the 
 phrase of the day, by the conciergerie, and the guillotine. 
 
30* 
 
 ideas avc very precious to a nation, and become intimate- 
 ly blended with all their pleasures, and even with all their 
 sentiments of rectitude and morality, a law should sel- 
 dom aim directly at producing such an important change ; 
 but rather study to attain its object by an indirect influ- 
 ence, which, though more tedious in its operation, will> 
 in the end, by uniting the general opinion in its favor, be 
 more sure in its effect. If a legislator, for example, 
 should wish to establish universal liberty in a country in 
 which domestic slavery at present exists, a direct law for 
 that purpose would probably produce a convulsion in the 
 state, and overturn the authority of the government. 
 Whereas the same end might, perhaps, be more effectu- 
 ally accomplished in the progress of time, by encouraging 
 the humanity of individuals, under such restrictions as 
 the safety of the state might require, to emancipate their 
 slaves, till example should, at length, grow into custom ; 
 or, stiil more certainly, by favoring the establishment of 
 a peculium, by the improvement of which every industri- 
 ous slave might be enabled, after a reasonable period, to 
 purchase his freedom. 
 
 Manners and customs, however, are better changed by 
 example than by law. But that example ought to be gra- 
 dual and insinuating, exhibited by those who are calcula- 
 ted to attract the respect of the public, and should never 
 openly shock the prejudices of a people, or directly wound 
 
305 
 
 their sentiments of propriety. Montesquieu remarks that 
 when the Czar Peter 1st attempted, hy an ordinance, to 
 shave the beards, and change the dress of his Russians, 
 he had nearly excited a revolt : But, when he invited the 
 ladies to court, dressed in the stile of Europe, and encour- 
 aged his courtiers, by his favor, to imitate the European 
 habits and manners, he attained his purpose without vio- 
 lence. 
 
 But if a legislator desires to accommodate the ideas of 
 his people to the institutions he intends to establish, or to 
 give to those institutions the greatest stability and dura- 
 tion of which human laws are susceptible, no mean can 
 be found so effectual as a proper direction of the public 
 education. The ancient legislators seem perfectly to have 
 comprehended the full force of education. And, upon this 
 foundation, they, almost all, concurred to rest the stabil- 
 ity of their laws. But as their republics were generally 
 of small extent, their systems of education were accord- 
 ingly calculated to their confined limits, and could hardly 
 have been reduced to practice over an extended territory. 
 But, without confining our view to those gymnastic mod- 
 els which they present to us, it is a duty of high impor- 
 tance in the legislature of each state to provide for the 
 general information of the citizens in the principles of vir- 
 tue and good morals, and in the whole system of their 
 
 vox. ii. ti q 
 
306 
 
 civil and social duties. The means of useful instruction 
 should be made accessible to every member of the com- 
 munity. But, besides that universal information which 
 should convey the knowledge of their moral, and their 
 civil duties to the lowest orders of the citizens, it is per- 
 haps of not less importance that an easy access should be 
 opened to a knowledge of all the liberal arts, and to the 
 higher branches of science to those who have inclination 
 and leisure to pursue them. And colleges and academies 
 devoted to the cultivation of the principles of universal 
 literature, might be regarded as so many elementary 
 schools for training a constant succession of wise and en- 
 lightened statesmen for the republic, and fountains of a 
 diffusive illumination that should contribute to its glory 
 and happiness. A well informed people, moulded in the 
 habits of virtue, cannot easily be enslaved. But no de- 
 partment of knowledge can be of more importance to the 
 citizen, or more beneficial to the state, than that of the 
 civil constitution under which he lives, and of the great 
 outlines of the laws by which he is governed. And it 
 would be a work worthy the wisdom of the legislature of 
 a free and enlightened people to provide for the compila- 
 tion of an elementary work of this kind, which should 
 form a part of the instruction in every primary school 
 within the state. Understanding the principles of the 
 government, attaches the citizen more firmly to them, 
 
307 
 
 and awakens his vigilance to their preservation. The 
 knowledge of the laws, as far as they are understood, in- 
 creases his love of justice. The simple elements of the 
 jurisprudence of the republic,— .those elements especially, 
 which are connected with all the ordinary transactions of 
 society, should form a necessary branch of the education 
 of a citizen, from the highest to the lowest order of 
 schools in the state. 
 
 The policy of the great Jewish legislator on this sub- 
 ject was admirable. He incorporated his political, and 
 civil institutions with the laws of religion. The people 
 were enjoined continually to read them in private, and 
 they were publicly read in their audience on every sab- 
 bath. And, still more solemnly, tbey were recited at all 
 the great festivals to the assembled nation. Every Is- 
 raelite, as was the intention of Moses, had the laws of 
 his country, and of his religion, its civil police, and its 
 sacred ritual, in a great measure, by heart. They were 
 incorporated, moreover, with all his ideas, and all his af- 
 fections. Hence these institutions have endured longer 
 than those of any other legislator, and have ever been ad- 
 hered to by that people with a more ardent, and perse- 
 vering zeal, than lias been found in any other nation. 
 
S0& 
 
 OF THE CORRUPTION OF THE PRINCIPLES OF THE GOV- 
 ERNMENT. 
 
 As the laws ought to be relative to the principle by 
 which the government is made to move, education, cus- 
 toms, manners, every thing in the state of the republic, 
 should contribute to strengthen that principle. But there 
 is a certain excess to which the actuating spring of each 
 government tends, which it is no less requisite to repress 
 with the utmost vigilance of the law. — For example, the 
 principle of a monarchy, says Montesquieu, is corrupted, 
 when the prince, forgetting that it is his interest to main- 
 tain only a general inspection into the government, by 
 his authority preserving the magistrates attentive to their 
 duty, affects to govern every thing immediately by him- 
 self, and his creatures, destroying the privileges and cus- 
 toms which time has rendered sacred in the esteem of the 
 people, and by which they still retain a portion of liberty 
 amidst the overwhelming power of the monarch, — when 
 he thinks he shews his power more by changing, than by 
 conforming to the laws, — when he calls all the considera- 
 ble officers of the state round his own person, to make 
 them feel their dependence, and to receive their flatteries, 
 — when, stripping his ministers of popular respect, he 
 uses them merely as the tools of arbitrary power, — when 
 the honors of the state are prostituted to the low and in- 
 famous panders of the prince's pleasures, — and when, 
 
309 
 
 mistaking bis true interest, he would govern, rather by 
 exciting the fear," than by gaining the affection of his 
 people ; and studies more to intimidate them by the cru- 
 elty of his executions, than to win their confidence by his 
 public services, and the wisdom of his administration. 
 Such a monarchy is hastening into despotism ; and the 
 infatuated monarch is creating tbat insecurity for himself, 
 which it seems his principal study, by the severity of his 
 measures, to avoid. — Supreme power, united with the 
 bad education of princes, has a strong tendency to this 
 issue in the progress of a very few successions. 
 
 The principle of a democratic republic is corrupted 
 when the spirit of equality, which is naturally cherished 
 by the enjoyment of liberty, is carried to an extreme. All 
 men, by nature, have equal rights. And in a well regula- 
 ted republic they possess equal rights as citizens. But, 
 from that equality of right, by which each man is secured 
 in the possession of the fruits of his own industry, and 
 ingenuity, and in the fortuitous accessions which have 
 fallen to him by the natural order of things, or the ar- 
 rangements of society, necessarily arises, in a course of 
 time, an inequality of property among the citizens. And, 
 from the necessary order of government results an in- 
 equality of rank between the magistrate and the citizen. 
 It is essential to the peace and prosperity of the state that 
 property should be respected, that the citizens should be 
 
310 
 
 obedient to the laws, and should reverence the magistrate 
 as their interpreter, and the organ of their justice. But 
 when that reverence is withdrawn from the magistrate, 
 or when magistrates render themselves unworthy of the 
 public confidence by private and mercenary aims in the 
 discharge of their civil functions ,• when the people grow 
 impatient of law and order, and wantonly endeavor to 
 subvert them through the variable caprice of popular 
 passion, or in unjustly pursuing the objects of faction ; 
 or, when the magistrate, embarked in the vortex of fac- 
 tion, puts himself at the head of a party instead of his 
 country ; — or, finally, when the mass of the. people, flat- 
 tered by their demagogues, grow insolent and envious of 
 the rich, and are impelled to infringe on the sacred rights 
 of property, the republic is on the eve of dissolution. To 
 this extreme the democratic form of government, unless 
 placed under the strictest guards, and regulated by the 
 happiest organization, as naturally tends as monarchy to- 
 wards despotism. For, every thing depending on the 
 people, those who are ambitious to court their favor 
 are ever ready to flatter them on their power that 
 they may turn it to their own interest,— .to inflame their 
 passions that they may be permitted to direct them, — to 
 excite suspicions, or hatred against those who have the 
 actual administration of affairs, that they themselves may 
 mount into office on the turbulent tide which they have 
 
811 
 
 created. Thus the people become haughty and impatient 
 of control, and are so jealous of their liberties, for, it is 
 on this subject that their demagogues perpetually ha- 
 rangue them, that they bear with difficulty the restraints 
 of government. The lowest and poorest aspire to be on a 
 level with the richest, and have always been found, in a 
 course of time, to turn their attention towards a division 
 of the property of the state among themselves. Becoming 
 idle, at last, as well as insolent, the elections are made 
 venal. The populace must be gratified, whatever their 
 pleasures cost, at the expense either of the public, or of 
 those who solicit their suffrages : and if the latter, means 
 must be found to reimburse it out of the public treasure. 
 But, while the populace are indulged, their servants, who 
 are also their masters, may securely pillage the coffers of 
 the state, or dispose of its honors, or its offices, to their 
 friends, for their own advantage. The deluded people will 
 not suffer them to be called to account. Corruption and 
 anarchy continue to increase, till different popular favor- 
 ites starting up, and aiming to enslave the people by means 
 of the people themselves, they are all, at length, superce- 
 ded by one more fortunate than the rest ; who becomes 
 the tyrant of a new dynasty. — Thus perished the liberty 
 ©f Rome ; and, in a similar vicissitude, many of the Gre- 
 cian states long vibrated between anarchy and the tyran- 
 ny of successive demagogues. 
 
Sl'Z 
 
 A democracy has two evils to avoid : — .one is great in- 
 equality of wealth among the citizens which leads to 
 aristocracy ; — the other is the spirit of extreme equality, 
 which leads to anarchy in the first place, and tends event- 
 ually, in the natural progress of events, to despotism. 
 This spirit in a republic, is greatly cherished by foreign 
 conquests, and splendid national successes acquired chiefly 
 by the influence of the people. Arrogant and intractable, 
 they will hardly then submit to the control of the supe- 
 rior, but mild authority of the laws. Jealous of the ma- 
 gistrates, they become jealous of the magistracy itself. 
 They devote themselves, often with a certain frenzy, to 
 any leader who promises to augment their glory, who 
 flatters their vanity, cherishes their idleness, and gratifies 
 their extravagance by the influx and dissipation of foreign 
 wealth gathered from the spoils of nations. 
 
 OF FRUGALITY IN A REPUBLIC, AND THE MEANS TO 
 PROMOTE IT. 
 
 The spirit of republican virtue is greatly aided by the 
 frugal and simple manners of the citizens. A people of 
 simple manners have seldom any strong voluptuous, or 
 mercenary passions to divide or divert their attention 
 from that superior concern which every good citizen 
 should feel for his country. On this the whole force of 
 their minds will naturally be bestowed. But when luxury 
 invades the degenerate community, the considerations of 
 
313 
 
 public good are commonly lost in the pursuits of private 
 pleasure and ambition. General luxury, and genuine pat- 
 riotism in the spirit of a country, are forever incompati- 
 ble. The state ought, in such a case, if possible, to pos- 
 sess some means of revolving easily into another form of 
 government. The laws in a commonwealth, in order to 
 preserve the public virtue, should study to preserve the 
 frugality of the public manners. One of the most effec- 
 tual, and least offensive means of arriving at this end, 
 would be, by prudent regulations, preventing the growth 
 of extreme inequality in the fortunes of individual citi- 
 zens. In many of the ancient republics a violent measure 
 was attempted for this purpose by the establishment of 
 agrarian laws, and founding the civil order of the state 
 on an equal division of the lands among all the citizens. 
 Such laws, however, are not practicable, except in states 
 of very small extent, founded entirely on agricultural in- 
 stitutions. They are, moreover, utterly inconsistent with 
 the spirit and principles of a nation addicted to commerce ; 
 which, in the midst of wealth, and a certain magnificence 
 which accompanies it, is always frugal. A more eligible 
 method, perhaps, to introduce as great an equality into 
 the state as is practicable, and beneficial, is by the regu- 
 lation of dowries, inheritances, and testamentary settle^ 
 ments, so that the largest estate which any man may ac- 
 quire by the most successful industry, shall, usually, be 
 vol. ii. k r 
 
31* 
 
 so divided among his licirs as shall seldom place them 
 above the necessity of a prudent and habitual exertion of 
 their own talents. — .The best model of an agrarian law 
 which the history of ancient nations presents to us was 
 that established by Moses in the land of Israel, which, 
 while it promoted all the economy, and frugality aimed 
 at by the division of the lands, permitted, at the same 
 time, to a certain degree, of the elegant accommodations 
 furnished by commerce.* 
 
 Some small republics have appointed senates to be per- 
 petual models of manners. 
 
 It is evident that such an institution could be of no use 
 ijn an extensive state in which the senators must be in a 
 great measure lost from the view of the great majority of 
 the people. 
 
 The censorship was instituted among the Romans to 
 preserve the purity of the public manners. While man- 
 ners continued pure it assisted in their preservation. But 
 when luxury invaded the mass of the people, together 
 
 * Money exchanges, and the use of credit, which were al- 
 most utterly excluded by the institutions of Lycurgus, by his 
 iron medium, and the unalienable tenure of lands, had a certain 
 existence in Israel, by the circulation of the precious metals, 
 and the power of pledging lands for the redemption of loans, 
 or the liquidation of debts, till the period of the Jubilee, which 
 might be from one to fifty years. 
 
31o 
 
 with its attendants voluptuousness and ostentation, the of- 
 fice eould no longer be executed. It is evident that this, 
 like the former, is an institution which can be of no utili- 
 ty beyond the bounds of a single city, and its environs. 
 
 It is a maxim which merits the particular attention of 
 the legislator ; that while the principle of the constitution 
 is preserved in its purity, the worst laws may be harmless, 
 but when that is corrupted, the best are often rendered 
 useless, or pernicious. Among a virtuous people an oath 
 is more powerful than interest. A Roman consul could 
 lead a whole army to their duty by the remembrance of the 
 oath they had taken before their standards, in opposition 
 to the most violent impulses of seditious passions. But 
 when the popular mass is corrupted, oaths are only made 
 a protection to crimes : and the frequency of swearing 
 only tends more effectually to prostrate the public morals. 
 — And Plutarch remarks that the gymnastic exercises of 
 Sparta, which anciently contributed to form hardy sol- 
 diers for the defence of the state, afterwards, when the 
 people had lost their virtue, only infected the youth with 
 cowardice, and inclined them to infamous passions. 
 
 OF SUMPTUARY LAWS. 
 
 It has been made a question among political moralists, 
 how far frugality ought to be enforced by sumptuary laws* 
 — or laws prescribing certain limit* to expense in the 
 
316 
 
 dress, table, and equipage of the citizens. In proportion 
 as the political institutions, or physical circumstances of a 
 state, have contributed to bring the property of the citi- 
 zens nearly to an equality, sumptuary laws become un- 
 necessary. Luxury cannot exist in such a state ; but 
 after great inequality has already taken place, they are 
 inexpedient, because they cannot be executed without ex- 
 citing public discontent. In the extreme rusticity of the 
 Spartan manners they might be beneficial to prevent, or 
 arrest a decay of the principle of the constitution. In a 
 state that exists by commerce they are often injurious ; 
 for, notwithstanding the spirit of commerce is frugal, yet 
 a certain elegance, and even magnificence of expense in 
 wealthy merchants, is useful for the encouragement of 
 the arts, and furnishing occupation to the lower orders of 
 citizens. 
 
 Frugality to a degree, is requisite in an aristocratic 
 government as well as in a democracy. Otherwise, that 
 moderation of the passions which is the principle of the 
 government, and essential to its prosperity, cannot be 
 maintained. Yet, as the government itself is founded in 
 great inequality of fortune, some legitimate means of ex- 
 pense should be encouraged which may at the same time, 
 be consistent with the frugality of private manners. Other- 
 wise, we should every where see, in such a state as this, 
 very poor men without the possibility of bettering their 
 
317 
 
 fortune, and very rich men without the power of enjoying 
 theirs. The state will he impeded in its prosperity for 
 want of a proper circulation of its wealth. 
 
 To remedy this inconvenience, that was an excellent 
 custom among the ancient Greeks, by which the wealthy 
 were encouraged to employ their riches in executing 
 chargeable offices for the good of their country and in 
 festivals and choruses for the entertainment of the peo- 
 ple. To these might be added, the erection of libraries 
 fordiffusing the lights of science more extensively through 
 the republic — the raising of statues and monuments in 
 commemoration of the distinguished patriots, or the great 
 events of the nation — forming gardens and public walks 
 for the accommodation of the citizens — and, above all, exe- 
 cuting canals, roads, harbors, and other noble and gene- 
 rous labors for the improvement and glory of their coun- 
 try. To all which they might be encouraged by public 
 honors, and by some conspicuous means of perpetuating 
 the remembrance of their works. — Athens frequently ex- 
 hibited the most distinguished union of public magnifi- 
 cence with private simplicity. In that renowned city in 
 which existed the most splendid monuments of the arts, 
 erected by the noble munificence of private citizens, we 
 might often see them entering their own doors by a sim- 
 ple latch. 
 
118 
 
 LECTURE XXVIII. 
 
 OF THE OBJECTS OF NATIONAL POLICY ', AND FIRST OF A 
 POLITICAL CONSTITUTION. 
 
 Of the separation, and union of the different powers of 
 
 government of the British constitution The analogy 
 
 of the constitutions of the several states — and of that 
 espccialhj of the United States. 
 
 I PROCEED, in this lecture, to the second branch 
 of the science of politics, which is to point out, anil illus- 
 trate some of the principal objects of national policy ;—*- 
 the establishment of a political constitution, — taxation 
 and revenue, — the regulation of commerce,-r-the means 
 of promoting population, agriculture, and the arts. On 
 the last three of these subjects I have already, in the third 
 and fifth lectures, made such observations as I thought 
 were necessary for our present purpose. I shall now, 
 therefore, make only a few reflections on the three for- 
 mer, as far as I conceive every student ought to be ac- 
 quainted with the subject, before he leaves the place of 
 liis elementary education, let his pursuits afterwards in 
 life be what they may. At the same time, brief as they 
 are, they may serve as a useful introduction, to prepare 
 the minds of those wh<* arc aiming to become civilians, 
 
319 
 
 to enter more extensively hereafter into the career of 
 their political studies. 
 
 OF A POLITICAL CONSTITUTION. 
 
 Most governments have been originally founded in the 
 authority of a single person, or of a few families, which 
 has gradually grown up by custom, or ultimately termi- 
 nated, after various revolutions, and changes, in the do- 
 minion of one. The schemes of policy have seldom been 
 deliberately formed, and established by the will of the 
 people who have voluntarily submitted themselves to the 
 control of their own laws. It is not sufficient, however, 
 that a great people enjoy the privilege of chusing their 
 own government, unless the fabric of it is so wisely con- 
 structed as to secure its own duration, and to give as much 
 liberty as possible to the citizen, in consistency with the 
 general good order of society. This must be provided for 
 in the internal organization of the political system in 
 such a manner that, while all the parts move together 
 harmoniously to promote the public welfare, no one part 
 shall have such disproportioned strength as to afford 
 either the means, or the motives to disturb, or improperly 
 control the motions of the rest, while the true interest of 
 all shall be, as near as the errors, and imperfection of 
 human judgment will permit, the common interest of the, 
 nation. That frame of the government which is oalcu- 
 
320 
 
 lated to afford this permanent security for the freedom 
 and happiness of the people, is called the political liberty 
 of the constitution. Civil liberty consists in the security 
 which they have of property, and of personal safety, and 
 in the undisturbed opinion which they enjoy of that se- 
 curity. 
 
 Sometimes manners, customs, religion, a fortunate 
 combination of circumstances, will procure for a nation a 
 greater portion of civil liberty, that is, of personal free- 
 dom and security, than their political constitution pro- 
 mises to bestow ', and sometimes, beneath the impulse of 
 party feelings and passions, we perceive the oppressions 
 of arbitrary power amidst the most specious forms of 
 liberty. 
 
 The liberty of the constitution is produced by such a 
 distribution, and arrangement of the necessary powers of 
 government, that they shall severally impose a salutary 
 check upon each other, thereby preventing that abuse to 
 which unrestrained power is always prone. The great 
 powers of government have been divided into the legisla- 
 tive, the executive, and the judiciary. And the wisdom 
 of the legislator appears in the organization of these 
 powers in such a manner that they shall always preserve 
 an equable balance among them in the operations of the 
 government ; at the same time that each shall apply an 
 
321 
 
 efficient restraint on the other departments, which may 
 in any way attempt to transcend the authorities entrusted 
 to it in the general organization. 
 
 If men were perfectly wise and virtuous, all the powers 
 of government might be entrusted in the same hands not 
 only with safety to the public liberties, but with advantage 
 to the public prosperity. But, as mankind are liable to 
 be impelled and misled by motives of interest and ambi- 
 tion, it is necessary to make their rival interests, and am- 
 bitious aims restrain one another. These powers must, 
 therefore, be deposited in different hands, and so balanced 
 and adjusted that the interest of each body composing the 
 government shall have more relation to the public good 
 than to any designs of either of the other bodies Avith 
 which they are associated in the government. 
 
 Although the perfect idea of political liberty requires 
 that the legislative, executive, and judiciary powers 
 should be preserved separate, yet, this maxim does not 
 imply that they should be entirely disunited, and uncon- 
 nected ; otherwise, in their mutual opposition, the move- 
 ments of the government might be arrested ; or one, 
 more powerful than the rest, would at length absorb 
 them all into itself, and thus establish a tyranny. Such 
 a connexion they ought to have as to make {hem mutually 
 
 necessary to one another ,• and such a mutually controlling 
 vol. ii. s s 
 
322 
 
 power should they possess, that each should he ahle to 
 preserve itself in the full exercise of its peculiar authori- 
 ties, and privileges, against the encroachments of either 
 of the others, or of hoth united.* 
 
 The British constitution has often presented the text 
 on this subject to political writers. In this celebrated 
 model, from which many of the most useful traits in our 
 own have been drawn, the king possesses a negative on 
 the proceedings of parliament. — The representatives of 
 the people enjoy a check on the monarch's prerogative of 
 levying and commanding the army by the privilege of 
 originating all supply bills. These two branches of the 
 government are perfectly independent on one another, 
 the king being hereditary, and his person sacred, and in 
 the other branch of the government, one of its component 
 parts being likewise hereditary, and the other appointed 
 immediately by the people. The judges, although they 
 are appointed, and receive their commissions from the 
 king, yet are so far independent that they cannot be re- 
 moved from office except by the joint application of both 
 
 * See these ideas beautifully illustrated in Montesquieu's 
 Spirit of Laws, book 1 1th, ch. 6, where he treats of the British 
 constitution. You will find them happily applied to the Ameri- 
 can constitutions, and that, particularly, of the general govern- 
 ment of the United States, in the Federalist, a book which de- 
 serves the most attentive perusal of every American citizen. — 
 See especially Nos. 48—5 1 . 
 
323 
 
 houses of parliament. The king possesses a share in the 
 legislature by his negative on the resolutions of the lords 
 and commons, and by his power of making treaties with 
 foreign nations. The house of lords possesses a share in 
 the judiciary, being the only court for the trial of im- 
 peachments, and having supreme appellate jurisdiction in 
 all other causes. The judges so far partake of executive 
 and legislative influence, that they form one of the king's 
 constitutional councils, and are sometimes called to assist 
 in the deliberations of the legislature, though they do not 
 enjoy the efficient power of a vote in any act of that body. 
 
 This government furnishes the most complete example 
 existing in any nation, unless, perhaps, we may except 
 our own, of the separation, and independence, of these 
 powers in the constitution, and yet the necessary connex- 
 ions, and relations subsisting between the bodies respec- 
 tively exercising them. The supreme executive, being 
 hereditary, and surrounded with the majesty of a throne, 
 derives thence that elevated dignity, and powerful influ- 
 ence which are requisite to balance the immense weight 
 of the legislature. The division of the legislature into two 
 bodies lessens the force of its action upon the executive, 
 which would otherwise be irresistible. And the lords, 
 holding an intermediate rank between the prince, and the 
 commons, are enabled to preserve the equilibrium of the 
 government by adding their weight sometimes to one 
 
324 
 
 scale, and sometimes to the other, which would, other- 
 wise, frequently vibrate very unequally. In the contest 
 for power, the representative body of the people are 
 known once to have prevailed, and overturned all the 
 other orders of the state. And their weight in the gov- 
 ernment would, perhaps, always be too great for both the 
 correlative bodies of the constitution, if the decayed bor- 
 oughs did not give the crown an opportunity of purcha- 
 sing, or powerfully influencing a part of the popular rep- 
 resentation. This unfortunate remedy, however, for an 
 immediate inconvenience, is preparing the way to a very 
 different result, and eventually introducing, perhaps, a 
 much greater evil. There is infinite danger that the cor- 
 ruption of the legislative body will yield, in time, an un- 
 controllable power to the crown. This is the meaning of 
 Montesquieu when he says, « that beautiful fabric will 
 perish as all other governments have done. It will perish 
 when Ihe legislative becomes more corrupt than the exe- 
 cutive." 
 
 The American states have endeavoured to imitate this 
 model, as far as the difference of their circumstances 
 would permit. They were obliged to create the bodies 
 which exercise the three great powers of government out 
 of the same uniform mass of the people, and have studied 
 to give them as much independence as possible on one 
 another, by the different modes of their election. I had 
 
525 
 
 intended to present to you a philosophical examination of 
 the principal points of the federal constitution, on the 
 most acknowledged principles of good policy, if the sever- 
 ity and tediousness of my present indisposition had not 
 arrested my design, as it has ohliged me also to curtail, 
 or omit many of the subjects which I had proposed to my- 
 self in the latter part of these lectures. But I cannot for- 
 bear recommending to your perusal again, the excellent 
 and detailed analysis of the whole constitution, in the 
 Federalist, a work which was the combined production of 
 several of the ablest civilians in America. It deserves, 
 however, to be here remarked, that the Americans, in their 
 first efforts to frame the political constitutions of the sev- 
 eral states, as well as of the United States, fixing their 
 view too strongly on the terrors of a tyranny from which 
 they had but just escaped, and making too high an esti- 
 mate of the wisdom and the virtue of the people, from 
 their exploits and sacrifices during the war of the revo- 
 lution, when the pressure of imminent danger repressed 
 almost every other passion among them but love of the 
 public, generally laid the executive under too great res- 
 traint, and, in the same proportion, enlarged, beyond 
 their due bounds, the power of the legislative. They re- 
 membered that power in the hands of a single person 
 always aims to extend its sphere. But they often seem to 
 have forgotten, that its tendency is the same in the hand? 
 
326 
 
 of the many, as of one : and that commonly the encroach- 
 ments of a numerous body, are even more rapid, and more 
 bold. They derive confidence from their numbers, and their 
 supposed influence with the people. In all the constitu- 
 tions of the individual states the balance inclines, perhaps 
 too much, to the popular scale. In most of them, the leg- 
 islative bodies have already been making repeated en- 
 croachments on both their executive and judiciary depart- 
 ments. Of this Mr Jefferson, in his notes on Virginia, 
 complains in his comments on the conduct of the legisla- 
 ture of that state. « They have in many instances, says 
 he, # decided rights which should have been left to judi- 
 ciary controversy ; and the direction of the executive, 
 during the whole time of their session, is becoming habit- 
 ual and familiar." For a like reason some of the states, 
 and especially Pennsylvania, have been obliged, by call- 
 ing a new convention, to re-model their constitutions. And 
 it is well known that the constitution of New-Jersey has 
 grossly confounded all the powers of government, and 
 suffered its legislature to absorb almost the whole. 
 
 The convention of confederated America, in framing 
 the federal constitution, has studied, as far as possible, or, 
 at least, as far as the state of society, and the preposes- 
 sions of the country would admit, to escape these errors. 
 We find, in experience however, that the legislative branch, 
 
 * Notes on Virginia, p. 195. 
 
327 
 
 and especially the lower house, which is composed of the 
 most immediate representatives of the people, is still aim- 
 ing at a similar accumulation of power in the popular 
 branch. And this dangerous project it has means, pecu- 
 liar to its own body, of successfully pursuing. It is al- 
 most impossible to give to the head of the executive, a 
 man selected from the mass of the people, that elevation 
 and dignity of character, and that powerful influence, 
 which will enable him effectually to resist their formida- 
 ble encroachments, or inspire him with that energy and 
 force of mind, that will support him, like the first presi- 
 dent of the United States, resting on the glory of his past 
 services, in daring to repel their unreasonable demands. 
 It gives me pleasure to be able to confirm these princi- 
 ples with regard to the tendencies of the popular branch 
 of the government, by the opinion of one of our most en- 
 lightened politicians, delivered at the very commencement 
 of the present federal government, a time when his judg- 
 ment cannot be supposed to have received any bias from 
 existing parties.* " In a government, says lie, where nu- 
 merous and extensive prerogatives are placed in the hands 
 of an hereditary monarch, the executive department is 
 very justly regarded as the source of danger, and watched 
 v. ith all the jealousy which a zeal for liberty ought to in- 
 
 * Mr Madison of Virginia, now president of the United 
 Stales. Federalist, No. 68, near the middle. 
 
328 
 
 spire. But, in a representative republic, where the exe- 
 cutive magistracy is carefully limited both in the extent 
 and the duration of its power, and where the legislative 
 power is exercised by an assembly which is inspired by a 
 supposed influence over the people, with an intrepid con- 
 fidence in its own strength, — which is sufficiently nume- 
 rous to feel all the passions which actuate the multitude ; 
 yet not so numerous as to be incapable of pursuing its 
 objects by means which reason prescribes, — it is against 
 the enterprizing ambition of this department that the 
 people ought to indulge all their jealousy, and exhaust all 
 their precautions." — " The legislative department, he 
 adds, derives a superiority in our government from other 
 circumstances. Its constitutional powers, being at once 
 more extensive, and less susceptible of precise limits, it 
 can, with greater facility, mask under complicated and 
 indirect measures, the encroachments which it makes on 
 the co-ordinate departments." And afterwards, " nor is 
 this all : as the legislative department alone has access to 
 the pockets of the people, and has, in some constitutions, 
 full discretion, and, in all, a prevailing influence over the 
 pecuniary rewards of those who fill the other depart- 
 ments, a dependence is thus created in the latter which 
 gives still greater facility to encroachments of the former." 
 
 It was frequent with the ancient philosophers of Greece 
 to sketch their ideas of a perfect republic, and, in theory, 
 
329 
 
 to pursue its organization into all its details. The exam* 
 pie has been followed by some modern writers. I shall 
 not attempt to imitate them. Your ideas upon this sub- 
 ject will be better matured by comparing together differ- 
 ent forms of government in the course of your studies, 
 and examining in history the practical effects of each. 
 The great desideratum in the scienee of politics is the 
 distribution and organization of the three powers which 
 have been mentioned, in such a manner, that they shall 
 always move in concert for the public good, and, at the 
 same time, shall form such necessary checks on one 
 another, that the integrity and balance of the whole shall 
 be permanently preserved. The imperfection of human 
 nature, however, hardly leaves us room to hope that this 
 idea shall ever be completely realized. 
 
 Instead of presenting you with any ideal system I shall 
 expect you to commit faithfully to memory that form of 
 government under which we live, and which is, perhaps, 
 the best practical scheme of a confederated republican in- 
 stitution which has ever been framed. The principles of 
 our government, and, if possible, a summary of our legal 
 institutions, I have before said, ought to form essential 
 objects in the education of every American scholar. 
 
 [Here the federal constitution is to be committed to 
 memory.] 
 
 vol. ii. t t 
 
330 
 
 LECTURE XXIX. 
 
 Of other objects of national policy, taxation and com- 
 merce. — Of demesne — capitation — assessment — customs. 
 Customs ought not to he laid on the necessaries of life- 
 hut on superfluities — no branch of trade should be op- 
 pressively burdened. The merchant advances the im- 
 post to the state — The consumer ultimately pays it. 
 Frauds on the revenue restrained by fiscal punishments. 
 When the laivs are equitable, these punishments may be 
 severe, they are otherwise ruinous to trade. — Of excise. 
 — Of the maxim, that taxes contribute to the benefit of a 
 state, and sometimes to the improvement of manufac- 
 tures — Of commerce internal and external — Of econom- 
 ical commerce — Liberty necessary to a flourishing com- 
 merce — Of banks — Of the incorporation of exclusive 
 companies for trade — Commerce ought to befrec — Of 
 commercial treaties — Of facilities for compelling punc- 
 tuality in commercial engagements-— Of the balance of 
 trade — Of money — Of coinage — Of bills of exchange. 
 
 ONE of the principal operations of government re- 
 lates to the laying and collecting of revenue. Revenue is 
 that portion of the property of the citizens which is re- 
 quired by government for the immediate purposes of the 
 
331 
 
 state. Formerly, the greater part of the income of the 
 princes of Europe, except the feudal services of theii* vas- 
 sals, arose from demesne ; that is, from those lands at- 
 tached to the crown, which might he considered as the 
 landed estate of the sovereign. A source of revenue of 
 this kind may exist in countries newly occupied, as in the 
 United States of America, in which are large quantities of 
 land not yet distributed in private property, from the sale 
 of which a considerable augmentation may be derived to 
 the public treasury. This, from the natural progress of 
 society, will be daily diminishing, and it is the interest of 
 the public that, as speedily as possible, it should be 
 wholly extinguished, leaving no portion of the soil unap- 
 propriated by useful and active citizens. The chief means 
 ofprovidingforthe public exigencies therefore, is taxation. 
 And one of the principal objects of political science is to 
 be able to impose, and to raise taxes in such a way as shall 
 be most effectual to supply the necessities of the state, and 
 be the least burdensome to the citizens. 
 
 Taxes ought to regulated according to the real exigen- 
 cies of the government, and the convenience of the peo- 
 ple. But the exigencies of the government should never 
 be measured by the ambition, caprice, or passions of 
 those who have the direction of public affairs ', nor of the 
 people themselves in those momentary paroxysms of rage, 
 or of vanity to which they are sometimes stirred up by 
 
332 
 
 their demagogues. The democratic mass are often not 
 less apt than princes, to be seduced by an imaginary glory, 
 and often excited by a sudden impulse of passion, to pur- 
 sue expensive schemes that flatter the national vanity for 
 a while, but in the end draw after them poverty and ruin. 
 When the real wants of a country are ascertained, these 
 must be provided for, how great soever may be the cost, 
 or effort. 
 
 In raising the necessary revenues of the state, it should 
 be a consideration of primary concern with the legislature 
 to select those subjects of taxation which shall be least 
 oppressive to the people, and, at the same time, most 
 productive to the public. All taxes are reducible to the 
 heads of capitation, assessment, customs, or excise. 
 Capitation, as its name imports, is a tribute levied on 
 the citizens simply according to their number. This is, 
 perhaps, the most unequal mode of taxation. The rich 
 man pays nothing more than the poor ; and the poor man 
 nothing less than the rich. It is a tax however, which, 
 from the simplicity of its nature, is peculiarly adapted to 
 despotic states. In them many and intricate details do 
 not agree with the genius of the government. And much 
 complication in the system of finance, would afford tbe 
 officers of the prince too great an opportunity to oppress 
 the su'»ke(s without auv means of detection, or redress. 
 
333 
 
 Assessment is a certain proportional rate levied on the 
 property, or wealth of each citizen. Such a system of 
 taxation may be rendered perfectly equitable and just, 
 although the greatest inequality subsist in the property of 
 different citizens. Land being the most visible and per- 
 manent subject of property, is best adapted to this spe- 
 cies of taxation. Stock in trade is much more difficult to 
 be ascertained with the precision requisite fcr an equita- 
 ble tax. It is of so fluctuating a nature as to render it al- 
 most impossible to be sure that you possess its real amount. 
 And attempts to assess it with accuracy would probably 
 be attended with many frauds in the proprietor, or with 
 oppression on the part of the government, and an impro- 
 per disclosure of the secrets of trade. 
 
 Assessments of land for the purposes of taxation should 
 be framed not merely according to its quantity, or ad- 
 measurement, but according to the quality of the soil, 
 and the nature and value of its produce. These circum- 
 stances cannot be designated by any law, but may gene- 
 rally be ascertained by honest and judicious men of the 
 vicinity without oppression or fraud, and without any 
 great error from the truth of the facts. 
 
 In laying the rate of taxes, allowance should always be 
 made for the necessaries of life. Necessaries ought always 
 to be exempted from every public burden. The surplus 
 
33* 
 
 above these which the soil would yield under a prudent 
 and industrious cultivation should solely be the object of 
 taxation. Taxes ought as much as possible to be laid only 
 on convenicncies and superfluities. 
 
 Customs are that species of taxation which is most fa- 
 vorable to liberty, or, at least, to that sense of freedom so 
 dear to every citizen, and so necessary to the general con- 
 tentment, and happiness of the people. They are imposts 
 laid according to a certain rate, prescribed by law, on 
 merchandize imported, exported, or exchanged in trade. 
 "When prudently laid, the merchant always makes the 
 advance to the state, required by the revenue ; and is re- 
 imbursed by a proportional augmentation in the price of 
 his commodities. Eventually the consumer pays the im- 
 post to the merchant, which he has advanced to the state ; 
 but confounding it with the price of the goods, he consid- 
 ers it as a voluntary bargain, and is not sensible that he 
 is paying a contribution to the public. This is the ground 
 of his contentment. The demand for money is always 
 odious, when no compensation for it, real or imaginary, is 
 perceived. But when men seem to receive an equivalent, 
 the duty is cheerfully paid. This is the great advantage 
 of this species of tax : the payment being wholly optional 
 on the part of the consumer, he considers it not as a de- 
 mand of the state, but merely as an ordinary transaction 
 of commerce. In order to favor this deception, so con- 
 
335 
 
 ducive to the public tranquility, two principles are im- 
 portant to be observed, — in the first place, that there 
 be a reasonable proportion between the quantity of 
 the impost, and the natural price of the commodity. 
 Otherwise the tax is felt, aud (he illusion is at an end. 
 In the next place, imposts should not be laid on such arti- 
 cles as are become absolute necessaries of life among the 
 poor, except, perhaps, in some rare instances in which 
 they cannot easily be reached by any other tax. Such 
 duties operate like a capitation, and are necessarily griev- 
 ous and unequal in their pressure upon the people. A 
 wise policy will lay them as much as possible on mere 
 luxuries, and merchandizes of costly ornament and ac- 
 commodation. In that case, they fall directly on the 
 wealthy, or the prodigal, and are the most willingly paid. 
 
 It is the part of legislative wisdom not to impose an 
 unequal burden on any branch of commerce. Large im- 
 posts may be so laid as to defeat their own end, and impair 
 the revenue by diminishing consumption, or amounting 
 to a prohibition of the article. Moderate customs, with a 
 flourishing commerce, serve most effectually to replenish 
 the public treasury. 
 
 Another observation merits attention on this subject. 
 As the merchant who makes the advance of the duties to 
 the state must not only be eventually reimbursed, but re- 
 
356 
 
 eeive a profit upon this advance, as well as upon all other 
 monies employed in his mercantile transactions, the 
 earlier in trade any customs or duties are made payable 
 to the public, each transfer requiring a new profit, the 
 more the prices of the goods become increased at last to 
 the consumer. 
 
 Customs, when raised beyond a certain reasonable pro- 
 portion between the duty and the original price of the 
 commodity, if they do not lessen importation, always af- 
 ford temptations to the practice of smuggling, so injurious 
 to the public morals, as well as to the revenue. Whenever 
 the risk of smuggling is overbalanced by the amount of 
 the impost, the treasury will be defrauded. 
 
 Frauds committed on the revenue are restrained, or 
 corrected by fiscal punishments. When imposts are mod- 
 erate, and the nation free, that is, subject only to the 
 government of laws, and not of men, these penalties may 
 be made severe. They may be even more severe than 
 they can be made in despotic states with any safety to 
 the interests of commerce. But if they are excessive, 
 then rigorous fiscal punishments operate the ruin of trade- 
 as well as the oppression of the citizen. 
 
 The last species of taxation is excise, which is a duty 
 paid on commodities in actual occupation and use ; not 
 levied as customs are on goods in trade, and in the course 
 
3*5 
 
 sent to Flanders, was interdicted in England, that it might 
 produce a greater profit at home, by being worked into 
 cloth. 
 
 The freedom, or facility of trade is injured by all 
 unnecessary delays, or intricacies in the transaction of 
 business at the custom houses. The more effectually 
 the laws guard the trader from imposition, and the 
 fewer auditors and judges he is obliged to be con- 
 cerned with, the more favorable is the policy to the ope- 
 rations of commerce. Its affairs are the transactions of 
 every day. Expedition therefore, in all the forms of bu- 
 siness, and in all the judicial questions arising in it, is of 
 the greatest utility to the merchant. 
 
 As the life of commerce depends upon the punctual 
 fulfilment of engagements, every facility should be put in 
 the power of the merchant to compel punctuality in con- 
 tracts. Let it be lawful for him, says Montesquieu, even 
 to seize the person for debt. That great oracle of legis- 
 lation speaks of it as an excellent law in Geneva which 
 excludes from the chief honors and privileges of the state 
 the children of those who die insolvent unless they have 
 first discharged the debts of their parents. 
 
 In the intercourse between nations, there will generally 
 
 arise in the settlement of their accounts at the close of 
 
 each year, a balance due from one to another. An unfa- 
 vol. ri. xx 
 
346 
 
 vorable balance due to one nation must be compensated 
 by a favorable one received from some other ,• otherwise 
 the specie, which supplies the channels of its trade, 
 would, in time, be drained from the country, and a stag- 
 nation in business ensue. Commercial nations are fre- 
 quently seen indulging an unnecessary solicitude con- 
 cerning the balance of trade, and fatiguing themselves 
 with jealous calculations and fears about its poise. If the 
 laws are good, the manners industrious, and the habits of 
 the nation frugal, these are the surest means of turning 
 the scale ultimately in its favor. Frugality enables artifi- 
 cers to work cheap, and merchants to trade on small 
 profits.* 
 
 * Two or three facts on this subject exist in the United States 
 which create surprize to foreigners, and are often little under- 
 stood by our own citizens. The price of labor in this country is 
 much higher than in Europe ; yet the products of the soil can 
 always be sent thither to a good market. On the other hand, 
 the expense attending the erection of manufactures is so great 
 as hitherto, except in a few instances, to prevent their estab- 
 lishment. The cause of both these effects is to be found in the 
 great quantity, and cheapness of our new and fertile lands. 
 One man is able to spread his labor over a much more ex- 
 tended surface in the ample plantations of America, than can 
 be done in the small and circumscribed districts, into which the 
 soil must be divided in Europe. And though the agriculture is 
 less perfect, yet the great scope which is under cultivation 
 throws off, in the end of the year, a more abundant product to 
 the industry of each husbandman. 
 
sir 
 
 OF MONET. 
 
 Trade, in the early and rude ages of the world was car- 
 ried on by barter, or the exchange of one species of goods 
 for another. This was found, in time, to be inconvenient, 
 especially after exchanges, in the progress of society, ne- 
 cessarily became frequent. It was requisite, therefore, to 
 discover some medium of commerce which should be Avill- 
 ingly received, and acknowledged as a universal sign, and 
 standard of value. This medium, in order to subserve 
 the various purposes of trade, and to render it, at all 
 times, a safe and convenient mean of exchange ought to 
 possess the following properties. It ought, in the first 
 place, to have an intrinsic value, and to be in itself an ob- 
 ject of desire, and, therefore, a proper subject of com- 
 merce, as well as a sign of wealth, and a standard of the 
 value of all other things. This primary quality is requi- 
 site, because no authority can give a value to that which 
 possesses none in the public estimation. It ought, in the 
 next place, to be rare, that a small portion of it may rep- 
 resent a large quantity of other commodities, and be easily 
 portable for the convenience of trade. It should, for the 
 same purpose, be divisible into minute parts. And, finally 
 it ought to be durable, that it may not be liable to decay 
 by being exposed to the air, nor be easily worn and wast^ 
 ed in passing from hand to hand. 
 
348 
 
 The precious metals, and they alone, possess all these 
 properties ; and, therefore, have been employed in all na- 
 tions, where they could be procured, as the common sym- 
 bols of value. It has been frequently, though erroneously, 
 supposed that, intrinsically, money possesses no value, 
 though the sign of all value ; and this was long a vulgar 
 theoretic opinion. But gold and silver have their price in 
 trade as well as other commodities ; and, like them, this 
 price depends upon their relative quantity. If all the gold 
 and silver in the mercantile world were placed on one 
 side, and, on the opposite side, all other goods, the Avhole 
 value of the one would be equal to the whole value of the 
 other, and any proportional quantity of the one, would be 
 equal to a similar proportion of the other. Increase the 
 aggregate quantity of the precious metals, and each piece 
 will then possess a smaller relative value. If, in the pro- 
 gress of society, an improved industry and ingenuity in- 
 crease the quantity and perfection of the products and 
 manufactures of trading nations, the quantity of money 
 remaining the same, each piece will acquire an increased 
 price ; that is, it will purchase an additional quantify, 
 either in number, or in fineness, of those articles which 
 are brought by commerce into the market. This constant 
 ratio of things no law, or authority of the state can alter 
 without violence to liberty, and manifest injury to the in- 
 terests of trade. It is a mistaken policy in the govern- 
 
349 
 
 ineiit ever to attempt to regulate the prices of the market, 
 farther than to prevent fraud in the genuineness, the 
 measure, or the weight of the articles brought into it. 
 Every arbitrary regulation, or attempt to change the na- 
 tural proportions between money, and other merchandize, 
 especially, of provision in a season of scarcity, will usu- 
 ally prove as abortive as it would be pernicous if it could 
 be carried into effect. This assumed power over the free- 
 dom of the merchant, tends to destroy industry, and in- 
 crease the distressing want for which it is proposed as 
 the mistaken remedy. If scarcity produces an alarming 
 augmentation of priees, that very circumstance holds out 
 the speediest prospect of relief. It awakens industry, and 
 invites a prompt supply from every quarter whence it can 
 be derived, till the increasing quantity in the market 
 again reduces the price towards its natural standard. AH 
 compulsion contributes to drive the means of relief out 
 of the market, and to continue the public distress. It 
 were better, in such a case, to afford a bounty on provi- 
 sion than to check the freedom of its sale, by limiting its 
 price. 
 
 or COINAGE. 
 
 The quantity and proportion of the metals is determin- 
 ed by weight. But, on account of the inconvenience- and 
 inaccuracy which must attend weighing buJIionin all the 
 
350 
 
 multiplied transactions of commerce, after nations have 
 arrived at an advanced period of civilization, the govern- 
 ment usually takes that care upon itself, and affixes its 
 own signature and attestation to the weight of each piece 
 of money in the mint.* Coinage is the impression of a 
 known public mark on the respective pieces of gold and 
 silver in circulation, thereby pledging the public faith for 
 the exactness of the weight. 
 
 A certain known proportion of alloy is usually mixed 
 in coining wilh the precious metals, to increase their 
 durability, and to render the size of the small pieces more 
 convenient in passing them in tale. The practice of in- 
 creasing the quantity of alloy, or of raising the denomi- 
 nations of the coins, which have been sometimes resorted 
 to in arbitrary governments, in order to pay the public 
 debts with less than a just proportion of gold and silver, 
 is a dishonest expedient, as dangerous to the prince, as it 
 is void of faith to the nation. 
 
 BILLS OF EXCHANGE. 
 
 In the commercial transactions between nations, money 
 must often necessarily be remitted from one to another. 
 This necessity has given rise to bills of exchange, to save 
 
 * This denomination is derived from the low latin term mon- 
 eta, which signifies both the stamp upon coin, and the labora- 
 tory whence it is issued. It comes to the English through the 
 medium of Dutch word tnunte. 
 
351 
 
 the risks of the sea. A bill is no more than a draft for 
 the money which may be owing from one merchant, to 
 satisfy the demand which may be due to another. When 
 equal sums are to be remitted from one nation to another, 
 bills may be purchased at par. "When greater sums are 
 due from one than are to be received from the other, the 
 nation against which the balance is found to lie, must 
 make its remittances in kind, or must pay an additional 
 sum for bills ; which sum must be estimated according to 
 the risks of remitting. The exchange, therefore, is 
 against that nation, and bills must be purchased at a 
 price above par. The balance of trade between two na- 
 tions may, of course, be generally determined, at any 
 period, by the rate of exchange. 
 
552 
 
 LECTURE XXX. 
 
 OF THE 1AW OF NATURE AND NATIONS. 
 
 Of the law of nature and nations — It has attained its per- 
 fection only in modern times — The three-fold division 
 of that law — Of the rules and principles relative to a 
 state of peace — Of the independence and equality of na- 
 tions — Of intriguing with parties, or aiding factions — 
 The right of a nation to use its own resources, to its 
 own advantage, of making alliances, treaties, without 
 affording just cause of umbrage to others — Treaties not 
 annulled by a revolution in the government of either 
 nation — Treaties in the United States the supreme law 
 of the land — The interpretation of them vested in the 
 supreme court — Of the extent of the jurisdiction of 
 states — Of the intercourse and commerce of nations — 
 Of ambassadors or national representatives. 
 
 NATIONS, in their sovereign capacity, may be con- 
 sidered in reference to one another, as individual and 
 moral persons, subject, in their mutual intercourse, to 
 the rules of reason and humanity ; and amenable to no 
 common tribunal but the opinion of the world. The laws 
 of justice ought to subsist among all mankind. And the 
 interest of human nature requires that there should exist 
 
of exchange, and transit from hand to hand. It is gene- 
 rally esteemed, and perhaps justly, a tax of the most 
 odious kind. For, although duties collected by excise 
 may not be actually so heavy as those drawn from cus- 
 toms and imposts upon trade, they are, notwithstanding, 
 more directly felt as a tax. — Besides, the methods neces- 
 sarily employed to discover exciseable goods are peculiarly 
 obnoxious to public opinion, and to the private peace, and 
 tranquility of families. 
 
 From two facts which very frequently occur, — that 
 the heaviest taxes are paid by free states ; and that 
 an additional tax laid upon a particular manufacture, 
 has been followed by an improvement in the quality, and 
 an augmentation in the quantity of the manufacture, it 
 has passed into a maxim with some political writers, that 
 the increase of taxes is beneficial to a state. — It is true, 
 that free states, from that spirit of industry and enter- 
 prize which accompanies the possession of liberty, are 
 more able to support the weight of taxes than arbitrary 
 governments ; and being commonly smaller in extent, and 
 surrounded by ambitious and dangerous neighbors, they 
 are often called to greater exertions in defence of their 
 rights, and their existence. But the ability to support 
 such impositions does not surely arise from any peculiar 
 
 tendency in taxation to augment the monied resources of 
 vol. ii. v u 
 
 
 *« 
 
35S 
 
 the country, but from the nature ofthe government which, 
 is the nurse of industry, ami of every useful effort of hu- 
 man talents. And the augmentation of taxes does not 
 arise from any idea in their rulers, of their beneficial in- 
 fluence on the civil or commercial interests of the state, 
 but from the necessity of their situation. 
 
 It may likewise be remarked that a small and gradual 
 increase of taxes, within moderate bounds, may, on some 
 occasions, be found to stimulate industry, and, indirectly, 
 to contribute to the improvement of particular arts. — 
 To see how this may be effected let us attend to the fol- 
 lowing considerations. 
 
 There is a certain portion of labor requisite, and suffi- 
 cient to supply to each man the absolute necessaries of life, 
 far enough below the utmost exertion of his talents. When 
 he puts forth his efforts to their full power, they are able, 
 besides necessaries, to furnish him with a large supply of 
 convenient, comfortable, and even elegant accommodation. 
 Between these points, therefore, the moderate labor, on 
 the one hand, which is sufficient to supply the necessary 
 provisions of life, and the highest efforts of industry, on 
 the other, which may yield a large surplus of convenient 
 accommodation, taxes may be gradually augmented. And 
 as men may often want stronger motives, than simply the 
 prospect of a little additional gain, to stimulate them to 
 
339 
 
 put forth all their powers, these motives may sometimes 
 be found in the necessity of furnishing the taxes demand- 
 ed by the state. But this rule ought carefully to be ob- 
 served, that whenever the public burdens are to be aug- 
 mented, it should be done by very small and gradual in- 
 crements, that, in the process of the operation, the people 
 may have leisure to learn by experience to feel their own 
 abilities. Great and sudden augmentations of their taxes 
 are calculated only to alarm and discourage them. 
 
 I add that the maximum of taxation, or the highest 
 surplus for public use, which the industry of the nation 
 can yield, after the necessary wants and ordinary conve- 
 nieneies of life have been supplied, ought seldom to be 
 aimed at by the rulers of a state. Human nature kept 
 constantly at its full exertion, will become fatigued and 
 dispirited, and be ready at length to bless a less free gov- 
 ernment, relieved from the oppressive weight of those 
 fiscal impositions. The state, moreover, ought not to be 
 always at its utmost effort. Emergencies will arise which 
 will require extraordinary exertions ; and strength ought 
 to be left to meet these demands. 
 
 OF LAWS RELATIVE TO COMMERCE. 
 
 Another of the most important operations of govern- 
 ment respects the encouragement and regulation of com- 
 merce. Commerce consists, in the exchange of the pro- 
 
3iO 
 
 duets, or the labor of one country for those of another. 
 It is founded on the mutual wants of mankind, real or 
 factitious, and is ready always to furnish a supply for 
 those wants which it either finds, or creates. By afford- 
 ing a vent for the produce of labor, and procuring, in re- 
 turn, the means of desirable accommodation, it increases 
 industry, promotes the arts, and thereby augments the 
 wealth of a state. Commerce is the handmaid of agricul- 
 ture, and the arts, and by distributing their productions 
 over the world, prompts the industry of the husbandman, 
 and quickens the ingenuity of the artizan. 
 
 Commerce is either internal, consisting of the traffic 
 which takes place among the citizens of the same state, 
 — or external, which consists in that subsisting with for- 
 eign nations. The more extensive a state is, of the more 
 value to it commonly is its internal commerce, if it pos- 
 sesses the means of a convenient interchange of commo- 
 dities through seas, rivers, or canals, and the less does its 
 prosperity depend on foreign traffic. This is an advan- 
 tage which the United States may possess in an eminent 
 degree, extended as they are through various climes, and 
 intersected by numerous rivers, if they are wise enough 
 to preserve their union, and liberal enough to favor and 
 assist, without jealousy, the natural advantages enjoyed 
 by each, which may ultimately redound to the benefit of 
 the whole, and of every part. 
 
Sil 
 
 Free states whose territories are small, and manners 
 simple, if conveniently posited to enter into the career of 
 trade, are generally inclined to undertake an economical 
 commerce ; that is, to become carriers for the rest of the 
 world who either need, or are willing to receive, the aid 
 of their ships. In this species of commercial intercourse, 
 it is the interest of an economical republic to consider the 
 wants and the superfluities of all nations, and to avail 
 itself of both. This species of commerce can be main- 
 tained, only by the smallness of its profits. It exists 
 by underselling others. Its present gains are small ; but 
 by gaining constantly, and drawing its resources from 
 every quarter of the world, the idtimate profit to the na- 
 tion may be great. 
 
 Civil liberty is absolutely necessary to the existence of 
 a flourishing commerce. Freedom is the nurse of industry 
 and enterprize ; and in the bosom of liberty alone is the 
 property of the merchant, at all times, sufficiently secure 
 from the grasp of power. In absolute monarchies, the 
 humble and industrious occupations of the merchant are 
 held in contempt by the superior orders of society. But 
 under the protection of a free government, merchants 
 have been found capable of the grandest enterprizes.* 
 
 * The tendency of commerce is to create civility and refine- 
 ment of manners, by opening a free and liberal intercourse 
 -among all nations ; at the same time, it begets a certain spirit of 
 
3i2 
 
 The laws and spirit of a nation should annex a dignity 
 and respectability to the character and profession of a 
 merchant in order to favor the success of trade. 
 
 Those laws are founded in good policy which encourage 
 trade with wealthy and pacific nations who can take the 
 greatest quantity of our produce or manufactures on the 
 best terras ; or who can furnish their own merchandizes 
 at .the cheapest rates, and take the largest proportion of 
 ours in return. 
 
 Laws are impolitic which attempt to restrict trade to 
 particular nations, unless it he for a time, with a view to 
 compel advantages from others which are unreasonably 
 withheld. Competition alone can establish the just rates 
 of merchandizes, and reduce the profits of trade to the 
 most equitable standard. 
 
 exact justice, and habitual calculation of interest, which is un- 
 friendly to the highest polish and ease of social manners, and to 
 the hospitable reception of strangers, except where some inte- 
 rest recommends their admission. It deserves, however, to be 
 remarked, in order to take off the unjust prejudices which are 
 apt to be entertained by different people against one another, 
 on the score of their reception abroad, that hospitality, and in- 
 deed all other national virtues, or defects, arise, not from the 
 differences between nations as they are men, but as they are af- 
 fected by the stale of society. The characters of men are formed 
 by the circumstances in which they are placed. And those na- 
 tions who entertain the greatest contempt for each others man- 
 ners, would, with exchange of situations, exchange characters. 
 
343 
 
 The institution of banks, when properly restricted, is 
 beneficial to trade, by facilitating a reasonable credit to 
 merchants, by which they are enabled to encourage in- 
 dustry, and to extend the useful cnterprizes of commerce.* 
 On the other hand, the multiplication of banks beyond 
 the real necessities of trade, or unsupported by an ade- 
 quate capital of bullion, becomes a pernicious evil, by 
 augmenting unduly an artificial medium of trade, and 
 thereby increasing the price of labor, and of all com- 
 modities in the market, and at length defrauding the 
 eredit which had been reposed in them. 
 
 The incorporation of exclusive companies of merchants 
 for managing, and enjoying the sole benefit of any partic- 
 ular branch of commerce, is contrary to the rules of good 
 policy, unless the commerce be of such magnitude, and 
 attended with such expense and risks, that it cannot be 
 advantageously pursued by individuals. When such a case 
 occurs, the privilege of entering into the company ought 
 to be extended as far as possible. Another important re- 
 quisite is, that the charter of incorporation should be limi- 
 ted to a convenient term of years, in such manner that 
 the earliest opportunity may be embraced for throwing 
 
 * For a clear and concise elucidation of the nature and effects 
 of banking systems, I cannot refer you to a more useful work 
 than a small treatise by Dr Erick Bollman of Philadelphia, 
 entitled Paragraphs on Banks. 
 
open the trade, and extending its privileges. — The Eng- 
 lish East-India company have held a monopoly of the 
 trade of the Indies too long for the benefit of the nation. 
 
 Commerce ought to he as free as the ocean on which it 
 is borne, or the winds which waft it. The interest of 
 merchants will always find the most profitable channels 
 of trade better than the foresight of the legislator. There 
 may frequently, however, exist a necessity for his inter- 
 ference to secure those privileges of trade to his nation 
 of which the caprice, or policy of others may be inclined 
 to deprive it. Each nation possessing the control over its 
 own commerce may frequently subject foreigners to in- 
 convenient restraints in their intercourse with it. Hence 
 the utility of commercial treaties with those states whose 
 wrong policy may incline, and whose situation may ena- 
 ble them, without the intervention of such contracts, to 
 impose peculiar disadvantages, on some branches of 
 commerce, or to subject it to entire interdictions. But 
 the general maxim that trade ought to be free, and com- 
 mitted almost wholly to the guardianship and direction of 
 the interested vigilance of the merchant, is not inconsist- 
 ent with another principle, that the policy of a nation 
 may sometimes wisely impose certain restrictions dictated 
 by the spirit of commerce itself in order to introduce a 
 new, or to tbsler a growing manufacture. On this prin- 
 ciple the exportation of wool, which had formerly been 
 
353 
 
 some known and general principles of equity to which, 
 by the tacit consent of custom, or the explicit stipulations 
 of treaty, they should agree to submit in their conduct to- 
 wards one another. 
 
 On this subject, there naturally arise two important 
 questions : — In the first place, are there any such princi- 
 ples which have been acknowledged to be obligatory on 
 all nations ? — and, in the next place, — by what authority 
 are they prescribed ? and by what sanction enforced ? 
 
 In answer to the former question ; it has already been 
 observed, that independent nations may justly be viewed 
 as standing in the same relations to one another, as inde- 
 pendent individuals, previously to the existence of civil 
 society, possessing the same rights, and subject to the 
 same obligations. This state has been denominated the 
 state of nature. And these rights and obligations consti- 
 tute the basis of the law of nature. But because indi- 
 viduals are rarely, if ever, found actually existing in this 
 state, and its laws are almost exclusively applicable to 
 mankind in their national capacities, hence the additional 
 title has been given to it of the law of nations. 
 
 The most rude and barbarous people have not been 
 
 without some rules, to ascertain the several rights, and 
 
 regulate the mutual intercourse of their respective tribes. 
 vol. ii. t v 
 
3d* 
 
 But it is only among civilized nations whose manners 
 and political institutions nearly resemble one another, 
 and who have been long connected together by the most 
 liberal intercourse, mutually imparting their improve- 
 ments in letters and in arts, that any regular and entire 
 code can be expected on this subject. Indeed, it is only in 
 modern times, and among the enlightened nations of 
 Europe, that this law has taken the form of a science. 
 Among the ancients, with whom stranger and enemy were 
 almost synonymous terms, it was hardly known, till the 
 latter ages of the Roman empire. The civil law was, at 
 that period, brought to a state of high perfection : and 
 some, although, as yet, but imperfect, principles of the 
 law of nations were acknowledged as forming apart of the 
 doctrines of natural reason. 
 
 In modern Europe, the diffusion of letters, the refine- 
 ment of manners, the influence of religion, and a spirit of 
 humanity resulting from a combination of all these causes, 
 together with ideas and interests arising out of the most 
 enlarged commercial intercourse which has ever existed 
 in the world, have contributed to give an extension, and 
 perfection to the law of nature and nations which it had 
 never before attained. Grotius has the honor of leading 
 the way on this important subject, in his treatise dejure 
 helli et pads. After him his commentator Barbeyrac, 
 Burlamaqui, Puffendorf, Wolfius, Vattel, Van Bynker- 
 
355 
 
 shoeck, have acquired the highest reputation, and have 
 become authorities to which even nations have conde- 
 scended to appeal in the decision of their controversies. 
 They have left little to be desired in the science. And in 
 the respect paid to the writings of these illustrious men, 
 we have often seen the pride of power stoop to the illumi- 
 nation and persuasion of wisdom. 
 
 To the second enquiry, by what authority is the law of 
 nature and nations prescribed ? and by what sanction is 
 it enforced on independent communities ? — I answer, — It 
 is prescribed by custom, and the implicit or positive con- 
 sent of all the nations of Europe, and to these we may 
 now add the United States of America, and the European 
 dependencies in the East and West Indies, who have all 
 agreed to submit nearly to the same rules. 
 
 In this age of refinement, and literature, learning has 
 shed such an extensive illumination through society, and 
 learned men have acquired such preponderance, that 
 their opinions have become, in a great measure, a stand- 
 ard of civil and national policy, and, in many respects, a 
 laic to princes and states. Their authority is resorted to, 
 and often admitted as decisive in the determination of con- 
 troversies between the most powerful kingdoms. But be- 
 sides this indirect authority, the greater part of the prin- 
 ciples of the law of nature and nations, as they have been 
 
356 
 
 proposed and illustrated by the most eminent political 
 philosophers, have, within a short period, been explicitly 
 reeognized in the public treaties of Europe. Principles 
 thus recognized receive the sanction and force of positive 
 laws. Others which have been admitted only by long 
 custom, compose the implicit, or what Vattel calls the 
 necessary law of nations. Of these laws the natural sanc- 
 tion is national convenience ; or, if they are infringed, the 
 fear of the just resentment of other nations. Fairness, 
 justice, and good faith, are not less the public interest of 
 states, than the private advantage of individuals. Injus- 
 tice and falsehood may profit for a moment ; but, in the 
 end, are ever found to be injurious to the true interests of 
 the great communities of mankind. 
 
 DIVISION OF THE IAW OF NATURE AND nXStIONS. 
 
 The law of nature and nations does not respect the in- 
 ternal policy, or institutions of state ; but is occupied only 
 with their external rights, and obligations, in their rela- 
 tions with other states. These relations are threefold — of 
 peace — of war — and of neutrality. This law is according- 
 ly divided into three parts — the first containing rules and 
 principles relative to a state of peace — the second, rules 
 and principles relative to a state of war — and the last, 
 those which relate to a state of neutrality. On each of 
 these subjects, all that I can propose to you is to give 
 
H57 
 
 some openings to llie science in the prosecution of your 
 future studies. 
 
 OF RULES AND PRINCIPLES RELATIVE TO A STATE OP 
 PEACE. 
 
 These principles respect chiefly the independence and 
 equality of nations in their right of ahsolute control over 
 their own political arrangements, — the extent of their 
 several jurisdictions,— their privileges or intercourse and 
 commerce with one another, — and, finally, their mutual 
 rights of embassy and representation. 
 
 The independence of states, and their equality in rights 
 and privileges, lies at the foundation of the law of nations. 
 And this perhaps is a proof that this law, which is of so 
 modern a date, has taken its origin among nations which, 
 in fact, are nearly equal in geographical extent, and in 
 physical power. For it is unhappily true in the history of 
 nations, that the justest claims are seldom conceded by 
 such powerful bodies, to equity alone, when they possess 
 force sufficient to violate them with impunity. 
 
 The rights which result from the principle of the in- 
 dependence and equality of states suffer no change, on ac- 
 count of their greater or less degree of population, wealth, 
 or territorial extent. Among these rights the most im- 
 portant is that of establishing, or preserving in perfect 
 integrity, their own forms of civil policy, free from the 
 
358 
 
 control, or interference of any other power. No right can 
 be more precious to a nation. All attempts, therefore, to 
 modify or change an existing government ; or to prevent 
 a nation, when it pleases, to alter, amend, or change its 
 own system, under any pretence, that such change is in- 
 consistent with the interest of any neighboring power, is 
 a palpable violation of the most sacred rights of nations. 
 
 The same principle condemns the intriguing of foreign- 
 ers with parties which may spring up within a state. And 
 condemns still more forcibly the affording any encourage- 
 ment or aid to a factious portion of the citizens to op- 
 pose, or disturb the existing order of the government un- 
 der which they live. — On this ground, the world has so 
 justly and strongly reprobated the conduct of the empress 
 of Russia, the emperor of Germany, and the king of Prus- 
 sia for their unwarantable interference in the affairs of 
 Poland ; and especially for their atrocious dismember- 
 ment of that republic, and afterwards presuming to 
 dictate a form of government for the remaining provinces 
 without the consent of the people who were to be affected 
 by it. The ancient Romans were infamous for intermed- 
 dling in the internal disturbances of the neighboring na- 
 tions, till they had broken, in succession, and overturned 
 the independence of every kingdom, and republic within 
 the reach of their arms. On the same principle, the at- 
 tempt of the combined powers of Europe to prescribe a 
 
359 
 
 government to France, although it was in the most turbu- 
 lent period of her frenzy, and their ostensible motive was, 
 in part, their own preservation, was most justly reprehen- 
 sible. And they have since been reaping the fruits of 
 their folly ; having forced her into the career of foreign 
 conquest, of which they themselves have become the vic- 
 tims, instead of leaving her, as they ought to have done, 
 to spend her fury, and the unnatural force of her insani- 
 ty on her own limbs. 
 
 The principles, however, which have been just laid 
 down, do not prohibit one state, in certain circumstances, 
 from yielding succors to another, which is oppressed by 
 its government, or which, on the other hand, is afflicted 
 by a dangerous insurrection. Yet this case requires the 
 most profound consideration, and the most dispassionate 
 circumspection, lest, under the pretence of assisting a na- 
 tion in her affliction, a faction only should be cherished, 
 or a tyranny protected. 
 
 "When civil dissentions exist in a state a principle of 
 good neighborhood, and of justice, requires that no aid 
 should be afforded by a foreign power to any party, un- 
 less it is clearly known to embrace an undoubted majori- 
 ty of the people, who are organized in such a manner as 
 to afford a reasonable prospect of their being able to main- 
 tain their government $ or, unless there is the strongest 
 
360 
 
 ground to believe that those suecors, and the change that 
 is aimed to be effected by them, will contribute to the 
 happiness, and meet the approbation of the nation when 
 restored to a state of tranquility. For those moral con- 
 siderations ought to be felt to be as obligatory on nations 
 as on individuals. 
 
 On such principles Ave vindicate the aids granted by 
 France and received by the people of America during the 
 conflicts of that revolution which ultimately established 
 the liberties and independence of the nation. 
 
 From the independence and equality of nations results, 
 in the next place, the right of using their own resources 
 and advantages, according to their pleasure for their own 
 interest, provided that, in pursuing these interests, they 
 do not infringe upon the equal rights of others. They 
 have a right to admit one nation to the participation of 
 greater privileges, within their territories, than another j 
 and reciprocally to yield and take such advantages as they 
 conceive to be most for their own benefit, which use of 
 their rights ought not to afford to those from whom they 
 are withheld, any just cause of offence. For this purpose, 
 they may enter into alliances, and form national conven- 
 tions and treaties with other states, which may materi- 
 ally alter the relations formerly existing between them, 
 and mutually create new rights and obligations. Such 
 
361 
 
 national compacts, when once made under the proper au- 
 thorities, impose duties, and create rights of the most sa- 
 cred and inviolable nature. They cannot justly be an- 
 nulled, or altered at the supposed interest, or convenience 
 of one of the parties ; but require, for the purpose of any 
 modification or change, the clear and explicit consent of 
 all who were engaged in the original contract. And if 
 any doubt or uncertainty arise in their interpretation, jus- 
 tice requires that the most fair and obvious exposition 
 be given to their terms ; in which a candid and equitable 
 spirit will derive great assistance from considering the ob- 
 jects originally proposed by the parties to be respectively 
 accomplished by the treaty ; the evils to be corrected, or 
 the advantages to be gained. 
 
 In the United States treaties concluded by the Presi- 
 dent and Senate are made the supreme law of the land. 
 The national judiciary is, consequently, charged with 
 their interpretation, and furnishing the rule for their exe- 
 cution within the jurisdiction of the states. This is a mea- 
 sure fraught with the greatest wisdom and equity ; and 
 peculiarly calculated, as far as depends on the United 
 States, to preserve these important conventional laws from 
 infractions occasioned by ignorance, injustice, or ambi- 
 tion. 
 
 It has been made a serious question in the law of na- 
 tions, whether or not a revolution in the government of 
 vol. ii. z z 
 
;}62 
 
 any people ought hi justice to annul the obligation of a 
 treaty contracted under the preceding government ?— .It 
 is sufficient to reply that a treaty is a convention made 
 with the nation, and not with the men who may, at any 
 time, have the powers of government in their hands. 
 These are only the organs by which one political body 
 communicates with another. The organ of their inter- 
 course may be changed, while their conventions retain all 
 their validity ; except where some palpable disingenuous- 
 ncss, mistake, or fraud, appears in the conduct of one, or 
 of both the parties. 
 
 OF THE EXTENT OF THE JURISDICTION OF STATES. 
 
 The jurisdiction of a state extends as far as the limits 
 of its territory, and over all rivers, lakes, and bays in- 
 cluded within those bounds. The territorial limits of 
 countries have been fixed by custom, and conven- 
 tion with neighboring powers. In taking possession of 
 new and uncultivated regions, and exercising or claiming 
 jurisdiction over them, the principle of convenience, as 
 formerly explained, must be regarded ,• and treaties with 
 other powers who occupy portions of the same lands, 
 must ultimately fix their respective limits. — If any waters 
 be encompassed by the territory of any state, the jurisdic- 
 tion of that state, extends equally over both the water, 
 and the land. — If a river or a bay form the boundary or 
 
part of the boundary between two states, it ought to be 
 considered, as far as it extends, as a natural high way, in 
 which, consequently, the navigation should be free, and 
 common to both nations ; unless otherwise restricted, or 
 appropriated by explicit treaty. If a river be divided be- 
 tween the territories of two nations, so that the one inclo- 
 ses its mouth, and the other embraces the heads of the 
 same stream, the dictates of reason evidently require that 
 the navigation of the whole should be equally open to 
 those who inhabit the superior, or the inferior part of the 
 channel, each giving to the other sufficient national 
 pledges for their mutual security, and for the peaceable 
 and friendly use of that liberty. 
 
 Another question which has occupied the civilians of 
 Europe with no small degree of zeal for more than a 
 century past, regards the extent of jurisdiction which 
 may be exercised by any state over the open ocean. Some 
 nations, on account of their great maritime superiority, 
 or, on pretence of providing for the safety of their com- 
 merce, or their dominions, have advanced claims to pre- 
 eminent control over particular seas. Great-Brilain has 
 pushed her demands farther than any other nation ; and, 
 by the haughtiness with which they have been urged, has 
 raised to herself many enemies. The ideas of mankind, 
 on this subject, however, have, for a considerable time, 
 been growing move just and liberal. The ocean is re- 
 
36* 
 
 garded, by most writers, as the universal highway of na- 
 ture, and equally free for the use of all nations. Yet, as 
 every state is justly expected to extend its protection 
 against all hostile aggressions, not only to its subjects, 
 and friends, but even to strangers within the control of 
 its power, its jurisdiction is admitted to extend into the 
 sea as far as the force of its arms can reach. And this 
 limit, since the invention and use of fire-arms, has been 
 generally interpreted to mean, the ordinary range of 
 cannon shot. The United States of America, that there 
 may be no uncertainty in a boundary which might other- 
 wise be too vague, have fixed it at one marine league from 
 the shore. 
 
 OF THE INTERCOURSE AND COMMERCE OF NATIONS. 
 
 As the law of nations is founded on the natural obliga- 
 tions of mankind, and the actual desire among all civilized 
 people, of extending as far as possible the ties, and good 
 offices of humanity, as well as to promote their mutual 
 interests, the privileges of intercourse and commerce be- 
 tween all the various states of the world should be ren- 
 dered as liberal, and extensive as is consistent with their 
 common safety. 
 
 Strangers cannot claim admission into a foreign state, 
 by the law of nations, as a perfect right ; \ct, agreeably to 
 the ben. volence of that law, the privilege ought not to be 
 
363 
 
 refused to any where it is not likely to be abused or at- 
 tended with national danger. But when a stranger is ad- 
 mitted into any nation, reason and humanity require that 
 he should be considered by the same act as taken under 
 its protection. His property, as well as his personal 
 safety, is deemed to be under the guardianship of the 
 power and justice of its laws. He still retains the right 
 to dispose of it as he pleases ; or, if he dies within the ju- 
 risdiction of that foreign state, a benevolent justice seems 
 to require that it should be preserved under the safeguard 
 of the public authority, and restored to the requisition of 
 the government of his native country.* 
 
 It is an obvious principle in this code, in the next place, 
 that, if a stranger in a foreign country enjoys the pro- 
 tection, he is also subject to the control, of its laws. 
 During his residence, it is his duty to demean himself as 
 a good and peaceable citizen, and orderly subject. And 
 if, in any thing, he offends against this rule, he shall be 
 subjected to the penalties of the law, as if he were a native. 
 If there be strong and well supported suspicions of his 
 abusing the privilege of a stranger to any hostile, or un- 
 friendly purpose, such as attempting to excite disaffection 
 
 * For a long time these rights were little understood in Eu- 
 rope, and were hardly known in the rest of the world. Even till 
 very late years the droit d'aubain, as it was called, remained a 
 stain on the humanity of France 
 
366 
 
 to the existing government, or taking plans or charts of 
 their sea coasts, or their strong places, for the use of an 
 enemy, he may, without violating the rights of hospitality, 
 be required immediately to depart from the country, or, 
 under a safe conduct, be sent beyond its limits. 
 
 It is worthy of particular observation, with regard to 
 the privileges of intercourse for the purposes of com- 
 merce, that it is, generally, the interest of all states to 
 render the ingress and egress of fair traders as easy, and 
 secure as possible. Yet nations have frequently, from 
 some idea, whether true, or false, of the advantage of 
 encouraging one species of commerce, or the com- 
 merce of one nation, in preference to another, imposed 
 narrow and exclusive regulations on their commer- 
 cial intercourse. When this is the case, other na- 
 tions must submit to the restrictions, however absurd, 
 which each thinks fit to prescribe for itself; if they can- 
 not, by some conventional agreement, procure a more fa- 
 vorable state of things. Hence those numerous commercial 
 treaties which form so large a portion of the positive, or 
 diplomatic law of nations, in the modern states and king- 
 doms of Europe. 
 
 OF AMBASSADORS, OR NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 
 
 The fourth class of laws relative to a state of peace, 
 respects the rights of embassy, or national representation. 
 From the first ages of civilized society the convenience of 
 
367 
 
 nations has given rise to a class of men residing near 
 foreign courts as their representatives ; through whom 
 such communications might he made, or propositions re- 
 ceived as go to affect the interest of those by whom they 
 are sent. 
 
 On this subject the following principles are universally 
 admitted. The ambassador of an independent nation pos- 
 sesses within that country to which he has been received, 
 all the independent rights of the nation which he repre- 
 sents. — His person, of consequence, is sacred, and invio- 
 lable — He is not amenable to the civil, or criminal juris- 
 diction of the state within which he resides. — Yet, if 
 he should so far forget the rights of the nation as to in- 
 sult its government, — to intrigue with its parties, — to 
 contravene its laws, — or to attempt to foment sedition or 
 insurrection, the government whose displeasure he has 
 incurred may apply to that whose representative he is, 
 with a request that he may be recalled : and it shall 
 be the duty of such state, if it be disposed to preserve the 
 relations of amity and friendship subsisting between them, 
 to reeal him. — There are certain cases in which the ex- 
 igency of affairs may require that he be immediately or- 
 dered to quit the territories which he has abused. The 
 public safety may even demand that his person be confin- 
 ed. The government, however, which proceeds to such 
 severe measures, must rely on the justice of the state 
 
368 
 
 which sends him, to approve the aet when the cause im- 
 pelling them to it is understood. Otherwise the sending 
 away an ambassador, confining his person, or refusing 
 to receive him in his public character, is construed to be 
 a proof of hostile intentions, and is generally considered 
 as a sufficient occasion of proclaiming immediate war. 
 
 Any nation possesses a right, on the ground of nation- 
 al courtesy, to send its representative to reside with 
 another nation ; nor will the principles of amity and good 
 neighborhood, permit the latter to refuse admitting him 
 except on such reasons as have been already explained. 
 
 When a nation has been divided into great and power- 
 ful factions by civil dissention, it may be doubtful in 
 which party the power and authority of the state is vested. 
 In such a case, a friendly power may justly refuse to re- 
 ceive an ambassador from either party till the interior 
 disorders of the state be composed. Or if it consents to 
 receive any, prudence seems to require that it should be 
 from that party which is in actual possession of the gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 Thus have I proposed to you a very brief sketch of the 
 principal rules which respect nations maintaining towards 
 each other the relations of peace. In the following lec- 
 ture I shall, with equal brevity, endeavor to lay down the 
 most essential principles that should govern their conduct 
 in the respective states of war, and of neutrality. 
 
>69 
 
 LECTURE XXXI. 
 
 OF LAWS RELATIVE TO A STATE OF WAR, AND OF NEU- 
 TRALITY. 
 
 The just causes of war. — Of the time and manner of com- 
 mencing war. — On the means of carrying on war. — Dis- 
 turbing the peaceable husbandman in the labors of the 
 field, privateering at sea, confiscating or sequestrating 
 debts or property in the public funds, seizing vessels in 
 the harbors at the commencement of a xvar, iniquitous, 
 and impolitic. — On the method of terminating war. — Of 
 laivs relative to a state of neutrality. — Of the commerce 
 of neutral nations. — Of contraband goods. — Of the 
 goods of an enemy nation on board of neutral vessels. 
 — Of the right of search. — Of the principle that free 
 ships should make free goods. — Of the inviolability of 
 neutral territory. — Two questions, 1. Have vessels of 
 war aright to bring their prizes into neutral ports and 
 there expose them to sale ? 2. Have neutral nations a 
 right to enter into a commerce with a belligerent, ichicli 
 they did not enjoy in time of peace ? 
 
 NATIONS are often necessarily engaged in wars, 
 through the pride, jealousy, or ambition of foreign pow- 
 ers. And, not unfrequently, they mistake their own pas- 
 vox, ii. 3 a 
 
370 
 
 sions, and imaginary interests for just and reasonable 
 causes of war. The organization, therefore, and direction 
 of the national force, by which they may successfully re- 
 pel injury, or retaliate aggression, is an important object 
 of political philosophy. 
 
 Nations, even in managing their wars should remember 
 that they are men. In the causes of their wars, therefore, 
 they should be just ; and in the conduct of them they 
 should exercise all the humanity which is consistent 
 with the nature of the contest, and the end to be attained 
 by it. The civilization and refinement of modern times 
 lias tended to extinguish much of that ferocity and 
 cruelty in the operations of war which were the disgrace 
 of human nature in the barbarous ages. 
 
 On this subject, I shall propose to you a few principles 
 on the just causes of war ; — on the time and manner of 
 commencing it ;— on the means of carrying it on; — .and 
 on the method of terminating it. 
 
 OF THE CAUSES OF WAE. 
 
 The just causes of war may be stated, in general, to be 
 the violation of any of the perfect rights of nations. 
 
 Inasmuch as all the citizens, or subjects of a state are 
 considered to be under the protection of its power, and 
 its laws, any unjust aggressions made on the persons or 
 property of these, by the authority of another state, or 
 
371 
 
 made by the subjects of another state, and refused to be 
 redressed after proper application made for the purpose 
 by the government of that nation whose citizens have 
 been injured, may be deemed a reasonable cause of war. 
 
 If a nation is found arming, and putting itself in a 
 threatening posture of offence, and refuses to desist, or to 
 give an amicable explanation of its conduct to another 
 which has probable grounds for apprehending some medi- 
 tated aggression on its safety, or its rights, this state of 
 hostile preparation has been held by writers on the law of 
 nations to be a justifiable cause of war. 
 
 OX THE TIME AXD MANXER OF COMMEXdXG WAR. 
 
 "War, which is accompanied by so many calamities to 
 mankind, ought seldom to be undertaken till every pacific 
 measure has been tried in vain to obtain redress of inju- 
 ries actually received, or satisfaction with regard to those 
 dangers which are justly apprehended. One exception, 
 there is to this principle. When sufficient reason has 
 been given to believe that all applieation will be fruitless 
 to a predetermined enemy ; and delay will only be yield- 
 ing him greater advantages to commence an attack with 
 success, in such case, the injured party may strike his 
 blow whenever he finds it most convenient for himself. 
 
 Formerly it was customary to precede hostilities by a 
 public declaration of war, and some nations have aceom- 
 
panied this transaction witli ceremonies of great formal- 
 if v.* This practice has been growing into disuse among 
 the nations of Europe. And it is now only necessary that 
 each state take the most early means of apprizing its own 
 citizens of the state of hostility in which they are placed. 
 The people of the United States will always be apprized 
 of it by the act which engages the nation in war : for it 
 can be undertaken only in consequence of a solemn decree 
 of Congress. By this wise provision of our constitution, 
 the people are defended in the best possible manner, from 
 the risk of unnecessary wars, which usually spring, 
 either from the mistaken pride and ambition of princes, or 
 the inconsiderate passions of a heated populace. 
 
 ON THE MEANS OF CARRYING ON WAR. 
 
 The means of justifiable hostility and offence, are all 
 weapons of injury, and methods of compulsion and force, 
 which can tend most effectually to weaken and subdue an 
 enemy, and to bring him, at length, to reasonable terms 
 of pacification. Reparation of injuries, and restoration of 
 peace upon equitable terms are the legitimate objects of 
 every just and reasonable war ; and no measures of vio- 
 lence will be permitted by a magnanimous people which 
 
 * The Romans sent a herald to the enemy's borders to de- 
 mand redress and, if they did not obtain the satisfaction they 
 expected within thirty days, the herald returned, and hurled a 
 spear into their territory in token of defiance, or as a denuncia- 
 tion of hostility. 
 
373 
 
 do not directly contribute to these ends. Every mean of in- 
 spiring terror, or inflicting death in the ardor of battle is 
 allowable in an enemy. But all unnecessary acts of cru- 
 elty, such as the use of poisoned weapons, poisoning 
 springs or provisions, refusing quarters to a vanquished 
 enemy, or, after laying down their arms, reducing them 
 to slavery, compelling them to fight against their country, 
 or oppressing them by a rigorous confinement, are as ab- 
 horrent from true magnanimity, as from true humanity. 
 
 Individuals ought not to be considered as culpable in 
 any war. They are entitled, therefore, when in our power, 
 to all possible lenity, and to the exercise of all the ordi- 
 nary sympathies of humanity. On the same principles, 
 all devastations committed on the property of unarmed 
 husbandmen, peaceably pursuing the labors of the field, 
 are unwarrantable. This is making war on human nature, 
 not on an enemy. These acts of wanton devastation are 
 not less unwise, than unjust ; by destroying the means of 
 subsistence which, in the end, may become necessary to 
 the destroyers themselves. One exception may be ima- 
 gined to this rule. AVhen a general has it in his power, 
 by destroying the provisions of a country, to impede the 
 dangerous course of a victorious enemy. Such an action, 
 however, can be justified only on the principle of self- 
 preservation. 
 
S74 
 
 Attacking and plundering, by private vessels of war, 
 the peaceable merchants of an enemy nation pursuing 
 their customary and innocent traffic, ought to be con- 
 demned, on the same grounds. Acts of this kind tend to 
 involve individuals in distress and ruin, but contribute 
 little or nothing to impair the public force of the enemy, 
 or to determine the issue of the war. Some attempts have, 
 within a few years, been made by different powers to limit, 
 or put an end to this odious and iniquitous practice. But 
 those generous nations have uot yet been able to accom- 
 plish their humane and equitable purposes. And priva- 
 teering, which, in its principle, is nothing less than the 
 most cruel and unjust species of plunder and robbery, 
 still remains, under a few limitations as to the precau- 
 tions and forms necessary iu commissioning the vessels, 
 and condemning the prizes, the reproach of the policy, 
 and humanity of modern times. 
 
 A\\ acts by which a state endeavors to revenge on inno- 
 cent, and unoffending individuals the injustice of their 
 government, is equally iniquitous and impolitic. There- 
 fore, confiscating, or sequestrating the property which 
 foreigners may hold in its public funds, or in the hands 
 of private debtors, or seizing on the vessels of their mer- 
 chants which may be in its harbors at the commencement 
 of a war, instead' of being a justifiable mean of offence, is 
 a shameful violation of national faith, and honor. These 
 
375 
 
 funds were deposited, these debts were contracted, and 
 these vessels entered its harbors under the protection of 
 its laws ,• and surely those laws cannot, either with good 
 faith, or in good policy, be made a decoy for innocent 
 foreigners who have honored it by confiding in its integ- 
 rity and justice. 
 
 The nations of Europe, by the progressive refinement 
 of their manners, are gradually mitigating the horrors of 
 war. And some late treaties, particularly that between 
 Prussia, and the United States of America, have intro- 
 duced, on this subject, some of the most amiable and be- 
 nevolent doctrines of the law of nature and nations. All 
 the principles which have just been mentioned have been 
 recognized in that treaty. And we have reason to hope 
 that such generous efforts in favor of humanity, made 
 under such high authority, will, in a course of time, tend 
 to establish these benevolent principles on an immovable 
 foundation. 
 
 ON THE METHOD OF TERMINATING WAE. 
 
 When empires are so extensive, as in the eastern quar- 
 ter of the globe, that the ideas of a balance of power 
 among its several nations cannot easily be framed, or 
 realized, force alone generally impels, or limits the ac- 
 tions of despots. If war is terminated by conquest, which 
 frequently happens, the victor has tjhen an option, accord- 
 
ing to the maxims which usually govern such states, of 
 four possible ways of using his power ; the first to exter- 
 minate the inhabitants ; the second to reduce them to 
 slavery. In both these cases the vacant lands are usually 
 replenished by new subjects drawn from other parts of 
 his dominions. In the third place, he may spare the 
 people, only changing entirely their laws, institutions, 
 and rulers, and subjecting them immediately to his own 
 authority. Or, finally, he may suffer them to enjoy their 
 laws, and their ancient customs j but, annexing them to 
 the body of his empire, may impose upon them a perpetual 
 tribute. The two former of these methods nothing can 
 justify but power. The last is the most equitable, and, 
 even for a despot, the part of the wisest policy. 
 
 But, where reason and policy preside at the termina- 
 tion of a war between independent nations, hostilities 
 should be closed by treaty. And on this subject, the fol- 
 lowing principles ought sacredly to be respected. In 
 order to facilitate propositions for peace, flags should be 
 free, and the persons of those who bear them, inviolable. 
 — All armistices ought to be proposed, and observed with 
 perfect good faith. — If the injured nation, should prove 
 superior in the war, she can only reasonably demand re- 
 paration for the injuries she has suffered, and indemnifi- 
 cation, perhaps, for the expenses she has iueurred in pur- 
 suing redress. ^Yhere a nation has discovered any peculiar 
 
377 
 
 restlessness of disposition, and manifests an inclination, 
 as well as possesses the power to disturb her neighbors, 
 extraordinary securities may justly be demanded of her, 
 for her future pacific intentions. On this principle cau- 
 tionary fortresses within her territory may sometimes be 
 required to be delivered up, to be garrisoned by the 
 troops of the injured nation, or of some friendly and 
 allied power, as a more effectual guard against future 
 and sudden infractions of the present peace. 
 
 To the disgrace of human nature, reasonable terms of 
 accommodation are hardly to be expected, except where 
 nations are so nearly equal in strength, either by them- 
 selves, or their alliances, that equitable compromise is 
 preferable to prolonged and fruitless contest; or where, 
 on the other hand, they are surrounded by nations who 
 have formed to themselves such a system, and balance 
 of poivcr, that they find a common interest in not suffer- 
 ing any one state to acquire too great a superiority over 
 another, and too great a preponderance in the general 
 scale. 
 
 We are prone to flatter the age in which we live on its 
 superior advances in wisdom and virtue. But the im- 
 provements which have recently been introduced into the 
 law of nations in Europe, and the reason which has pre- 
 sided in the treaties of her different powers, for more 
 
 vol. ii. 3 b 
 
378 
 
 than a century past, lias been the result of their equality 
 of force, and of the peculiar relations which have sprung 
 out of their artificial adjustments of the balance of 
 power, as much as of their progress either in science, or 
 humanity.* 
 
 OF LAWS RELATIVE TO A STATE OF NEUTRALITY. 
 
 The rights and duties of neutral states form an im- 
 portant branch of the law of nations. It is particularly 
 interesting to the United States of America while they 
 hold their present relations to the other nations of the 
 world. And it were much to be desired that we might 
 always have enlightened statesmen wise enough to un- 
 derstand, and firm and prudent enough to maintain them. 
 
 The first duty of a neutral power, in any existing war, 
 is to observe a perfect impartiality of conduct towards 
 the nations which may be embarked in it. 
 
 This principle does not preclude a neutral from fulfill- 
 ing, with good faith, the stipulations of pre-existing 
 treaties, binding her to any definite supplies to be fur- 
 nished to either of the parties at war. And complying 
 with such engagements ought not to interrupt the amity 
 
 * Of this fact Bonaparte has given the world the most strik- 
 ing evidence since he has been able to break the European 
 balance ol power, and acquire for himself such a decided pre- 
 ponderance in the scale of empire. 
 
379 
 
 subsisting between the neutral, and the opposite belliger- 
 ent power;* unless the stipulated supplies go to such. 
 extent as, by reasonable construction, to destroy her 
 right to the privileges of neutrality, and render her, in 
 fact, a party in the war. 
 
 Van FJynkershoek and Yattel have both proposed a 
 limitation to this principle, maintaining that if a Avar be 
 manifestly unjust on the part of a nation to which cer- 
 tain succors have been stipulated, the stipulation is, by 
 that circumstance, rendered void. In all other cases they 
 contend for its obligation This decision of these emi- 
 nent writers seenjs to lay a foundation for a very lax 
 national morality. If it is lawful for a nation to judge of 
 the justice of the cause of another, with whom she has 
 federal engagements, before she is obliged to fulfil them, 
 it were as well they had not been contracted. Where a 
 government has an interest to decline complying with its 
 engagements, it is not difficult to find reasons to justify 
 its refusal. A wise people will always be cautious with 
 
 * A late example of this doctrine happened in the war be- 
 tween Russia and Sweden. [A. D. 1788] Denmark was bound 
 by previous treaty to furnish to Russia a certain number of ships 
 and troops. This stipulation she accordingly fu, filled without 
 breaking her friendship with Sweden. Yet such treaties are 
 generally dangerous in the issue, and ought rarely, if ever, to 
 be entered into, except between nations who find it necessary 
 for their common safety to form such reciprocal leagues. 
 
380 
 
 regard to the obligations which they assume, and leav« 
 themselves at liberty, in the very terms of them, not to 
 aid injustice. It is difficult for one people to estimate, 
 ■with certainty, the justice of a -war in which another may 
 be involved. And a neutral nation has no right to pro- 
 nounce upon the subject, or to discover by its conduct 
 towards the parties, that it condemns the one, or justifies 
 the other. 
 
 OF THE COMMERCE OF NEUTRAL NATIONS. 
 
 The citizens of a neutral state have a right to pursue a 
 free aud unmolested commerce with all countries, whether 
 belligerent, or others. Nor is there any exception to this 
 right, except with regard to military and naval stores in- 
 tended for an enemy, or provisions going to a place that 
 is actually besieged or blockaded. These prohibited arti- 
 cles are usually enumerated in treaties under the title of 
 contraband. 
 
 The right of seizing, and confiscating contraband mer- 
 chandize is connected with another right exercised by the 
 ships of war of the belligerents, of stopping neutral ves- 
 sels in their voyage, and detaining them for search. But 
 because this right, when most prudently used, is necessa- 
 rily vexatious and often highly injurious to the fair trader, 
 it must be exercised at the peril of those who search ; 
 that is, if no contraband goods are found, those who have 
 
381 
 
 presumed to interrupt a voyage, are made liable for all 
 damages committed in the exercise of this right, and for 
 all losses that shall result from the detention of the mer- 
 chant. 
 
 Kot only the goods denominated contraband, but all 
 property of the enemy discovered on board of a neutral 
 Yessel ? has hitherto, by the law of nations, been made 
 liable to seizure. But this principle has often become the 
 source of so many abuses, and is always attended with so 
 much vexation to the fair trader, that some nations have, 
 with great reason, attempted, in their late treaties, to 
 correct the evil, by making the vessels of the contracting 
 powers, when one may happen to be in the relation of 
 neutrality, at the same time that the other is engaged in 
 war, a sufficient protection to the freight universally. In 
 whatever countries these treaties exist they form so many 
 positive laws, in amendment of what has hitherto been 
 acknowledged as the law of nature and nations on the 
 subject. And happy would it be for the interests of the 
 commercial world, and not unfavorable to the objects of 
 legitimate warfare, if the principle were adopted by all 
 nations that neutral bottoms shall be deemed a sufficient 
 protection to the property which they convey.* 
 
 * The celebrated marine ordonnances of France issued 1681, 
 amended in 1694 and 1704, and perfected in 1744, are calculated 
 to ascertain by the best and clearest rules that ever were pub- 
 lished, the genuineness of neutral vessels, and their cargoes. 
 
382 
 
 A principle immediately connected with the preceding, 
 in the law of nations, as it is now generally understood, 
 is that the property of neutrals shall he free in the vessels 
 of an enemy. For they have a right to make use of the 
 assistance of their friends without fearing that it shall 
 operate to their disadvantage. 
 
 Another acknowledged principle in this code is that 
 neutral powers have the right, and are under obligation, 
 to preserve their territories inviolate not only from the 
 encroachments of those who are actually engaged in war, 
 but from being used for any purpose of convenience against 
 their enemies. And it is correspondent^ the duty of all 
 belligerents to respect the limits of neutral jurisdiction. 
 Within these limits an enemy cannot lawfully be attacked, 
 nor a capture lawfully be made. If any such act of hos- 
 tility is committed, it is incumbent on the neutral power 
 to demand satisfaction from the aggressor, and to procure 
 redress for those who have been injured while under its 
 protection, or within its jurisdiction. 
 
 Some jurists have made one exception to this principle. 
 If the vessel of an enemy has been attacked in the open 
 sea, and flees for shelter within the jurisdiction of a neu- 
 tral power, they maintain that the victor, in the ardor of 
 contest, may pursue her within neutral limits, and capture 
 her, provided there has been no intermission of the battle, 
 
383 
 
 or pursuit ; or, as Van Bynkcrshoek expresses himself, 
 dunifervet opiis. This is an exception which will be found 
 very dangerous in practice. And the United States have 
 judged better, who have given the cognizance of all cap- 
 tures made within their jurisdiction, to the district courts. 
 But no vessel should be permitted to take refuge in a 
 neutral harbor with the view of making preparations 
 there to renew the contest. And, generally, all military 
 equipments, or naval armaments made by any belligerent 
 powers within the jurisdiction of neutrals, are contrary 
 to the rights of neutrality. If a vessel of war, having 
 suffered damages at sea, has been forced, by stress of 
 weather, into the harbor of a neutral nation, she may be 
 permitted to repair those damages ; but must depart 
 without making any other equipment. 
 
 A neutral nation may rightfully prohibit all vessels of 
 war entering her harbors, if she conceives the general 
 interests of her peace and safety require it, except when, 
 compelled by the dangers of the sea, they find themselves 
 obliged to take refuge within them for a short, and limited 
 time. If no such prohibition exists, vessels of force, as 
 well as merchant ships belonging to different powers at 
 w ar may, consistently with the law of nations, use the 
 harbors of a neutral state as an assylum in cases of immi- 
 nent danger, or as convenient stages of refreshment in 
 long and hazardous voyages. But, in no case shall thev 
 
38* 
 
 be permitted to use this right merely for the purpose of 
 lying in wait for their enemy, or gaining a favorable op- 
 portunity to attack him with advantage. 
 
 In order the more effectually to preserve an impartial 
 neutrality, and to save the rights of assylum and hospital- 
 ity from being abused to subserve any hostile purpose, 
 the United States have wisely ordained that, if any armed 
 vessel belonging to a belligerent nation, depart from any 
 harbor within the limits of these States, no armed vessel 
 belonging to a hostile power, being within the same har- 
 bor at the time, shall depart until twenty-four hours after 
 the former : otherwise she shall be deemed to have vio- 
 lated the law of nations. 
 
 Two questions remain to be decided on this subject ; 
 the first is, have the citizens or subjects of belligerent 
 states a right to bring their prizes into neutral ports, and 
 expose them there to sale ? — And the second ,• has a neu- 
 tral nation a right to enter into a commerce with one of 
 the belligerents, in time of war, to which she had not been 
 admitted in time of peace ? 
 
 To the former of these questions, I answer that a neu- 
 tral ought equally to grant or refuse the privilege to all 
 the powers at war ; unless she is already bound to some 
 certain rule of conduct on the subject in pre-existing 
 treaties. If she has not antecedently laid herself under 
 
S8S 
 
 any obligation, the safest rule is to refuse the privilege to 
 all. Mr Valin, in his commentaire sur Vordonnance de la 
 marine du 1681, tome 2. 2752 — 277, asserts iu strong and 
 positive terms, that an impartial neutrality forbids not 
 only the selling of prizes in a neutral port, but even the 
 introduction of them, except it be through stress of 
 weather, and as long as that stress continues ; or for 
 some convenience in navigation, in which case, they 
 ought not to be permitted to remain longer than twenty- 
 four hours; that being a sufficient time to fulfil all the 
 necessary purposes of mere convenience. M As neutrali- 
 ty, says he, towards two nations at war does not permit 
 us to favor ojie, to the prejudice of the other, in order to 
 conciliate this object with the right of assylum, nations 
 have tacitly agreed, ami custom has rendered it a common 
 right, that an assylum should be given to foreign vessels 
 of war, with their prizes — that is to say, if they have 
 entered a port, being forced by a tempest, and as long as 
 the tempestuous weather will not permit them again to 
 put out to sea; — but only for twenty-four hours, if they 
 have entered for any other cause. — Excepting the case of 
 a tempest, if vessels are in a condition to sail, the neutral 
 power is under an obligation to cause them to depart 
 within twenty-four hours ; otherwise it would be a viola- 
 tion of its neutrality. These observations, he adds, re- 
 gard only vessels of war, with their prizes, and not those 
 vox. ii. 3 c 
 
3U 
 
 vessels which, without prizes, take refuge in a neutral 
 harbor from the pursuit of an enemy, or enter it for any 
 other cause.'* 
 
 To the second question I reply, that independent na- 
 tions always possess the right of making commercial 
 arrangements with one another, whether in time of peace, 
 or of war ; these arrangements, however, being subject 
 to those just restrictions which have been already pointed 
 out, and admitted to take place in neutral trade, in time 
 of war. The English nation, indeed, in the confidence of 
 their great maritime power, have denied this right, under 
 the pretence, that it is covering the property of an enemy 
 under the privileges of a neutral commerce.* 
 
 Finally, as fho spirit nf* onmrnprpo tends in a great 
 
 degree to mitigate the ferocity of war, and so many im- 
 provements have, by this means, been actually introduced 
 into the former barbarous code, during the last two 
 centuries, the extension of neutral privileges will be 
 found to contribute to the interest and happiness of man- 
 kind. — They merit the attentive study, and the firm 
 support of every American statesman. 
 
 * Lord Hawkesbury's discourse on the conduct of Great Britair. 
 in respect to neutral nations — page 18. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. 
 
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