TH E PHILOSOPHY MORAL FEELINGS, BY JOHN ABERCROMBIE, M. D. F. R. S. E. AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. ADDITIONS AND EXPLANATIONS, AND ALSO ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS FOR THE EXAMINATION OF CLASSES. BY JACOB ABBOTT. REVISED EDITION. NEW YORK: COLLINS & BR(3THER, NO 82 WARREN-STREET. 1859. SVo^l Entereu iiccoruing to Act of Congi«3ss, in the year 1833, Hv JACOB ABBOTT, In the Clerk's OflR(;e of the District Court of Massachuset'J. PREFACE BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR When the editor of this work prepared Dr. Aber- crombie's treatise on the Intellectual Powers, for the use of schools, it was his intention to have also pre- pared the present work in the same way, that the two might furnish teachers with a complete system of metaphysical philosophy. This plan, it was thought, would be conducive to the public benefit, as no school edition of either of these works had then been pub- lished. Peculiar circumstances and the pressure of other duties have, however, caused a delay in the pre- paration of the second volume ; but in the mean time the editor has been gratified at receiving assurances from Dr. Abercrombie of his approbation of the plan, and of the course pursued in the preparation of the other work, and this one is prepared from a copy of the latest London edition, sent out by the author expressly for the purpose. As this work is intended to be the counterpart to the other, — being prepared on the same plan, and to be used in the same way, — the editor has only to repeat here what was stated in respect to that. The original treatise of the author is pubHshed entire, without alter- ations or omissions ; the author's language being held sacred. The additions which have been made are in- tended, not to supply any supposed deficiencies in the \V PREFACE. oriLMiial, hut simply to adapt it to a purpose for '•A^hich the book is in the main admirably suited; they are intended, as nearly as was possible, to be such addi- tional explanations as the editor conceived that the author would have himself made, if he had had in view, while preparing the book, the purpose to which it is now applied. The practice of studying such a work as this by formal questions, the answers to which pupils commit to memory, cannot be too severely censured. There seems, however, to be something necessary as a guide to the contents of the page, both for the pupil in re- viewing the lesson, and for the teacher at the recitation. That minute and familiar acquaintance, not only with the doctrines taught in the lesson, but with the particu- lar contents of every page and paragraph, so essential in enabling the teacher to ask his questions with fluency, very few teachers have the time to secure. The editor has accordingly added an analysis of the page in the' margin. This analysis is given, sometimes in questions, and sometimes in topics or titles, which can easily be put by the teacher into the form of questions if he plrases; or what will perhaps be better, they can, at tli^ recitation, be given to the pupil as topics, on which he is to state in substance the sentiments of the author. PREFACES BY THE AUTHOR. In a former work, the author endeavored to de- lineate, m a simple and popular form, the leading facts relating to the Intellectual Powers, and to trace the principles which ought to guide us in the Investigation of Truth. The volume, which he now offers to the public attention, is intended as a sequel to these Inquiries ; and his object in it is to investigate, in the same unpretending manner, the Moral Feehngs of the Human Mind, and the prin- ciples which ought to regulate our volitions and our conduct as moral and responsible beings. The two branches of investigation are, in many respects, closely connected ; and, on this account, it may often happen, that, in the present work, principles are assumed as admitted or proved, which, in the former, were stated at length, with the evidence by which they are supported. He had two objects chiefly in view when he ventured upon this investigation. The one was to divest his inquiry of all unprofitable speculation, and to show that the philosophy of the moral feel- mgs bears directly upon a practical purpose of the highest moment, — the mental and moral culture of every rational being. The other was to show^ the close and important relation which exists between y\ PREFACE. this science and the doctrines of revealed religion, and the powerful evidence which is derived, for the truth of both, from the manner in which they confirm and illustrate each other. These two sources of knowledge cannot be separated, in the estimation of any one who feels the deep interest of the inquiry, and seriously prosecutes the impor- tant question — what is truth? If we attempt to erect the philosophy of morals into an independent science, we shall soon find that its highest induc- tions only lead us to a point beyond which we are condemned to wander in doubt and in darkness. But, on the other hand, by depreciating philosophy, or the hght which is derived from the moral im- pressions of the mind, we deprive ourselves of a most important source of evidence in support of revelation. For it is from these impressions, view- ed in connection with the actual state of man, that we learn the necessity, and the moral probability of a revelation ; and it is by principles existing in the mind that we are enabled to feel the power of that varied and incontrovertible evidence, by which revelation comes to the candid inquirer with all the authority of truth. Edinburgh, May, 1835. I CONT E NTS INTRODUCTION BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. SECTION I. NATURE AND IMPORTANCE OF THE SCIENCE OF THE MORAL FEEL- mcs. Division of the Mental Powers into Intellectual and Moral . 27 Harmony which ought to exist between these classes . 28 Causes by which this harmony is interrupted, and means of counteracting them 29 Interest of the Science of the Moral Feelings ... 30 Peculiar sources of Knowledge bearing upon it, from the light of Conscience, and of Divine Revelation . . 32 SECTION II. FIRST TRUTHS IN THE SCIENCE OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. Analogy between First Truths, or Intuitive Principles ot Belief, in Intellectual, and in Moral Science . . 37 Classification of First Truths in Moral Science, as impres- sions arising out of each other, by an obvious chain of re- lations . . .40 1. Perception of the nature and quality of actions, as just or unjust, right or wrong ; and a conviction of duties which a man owes to other men. Vlll CONTENTS. 2. Conviction of the existence and attributes of a 41 Great First Cause, and Moral Governor. 3. Conviction of Moral Responsibility. 41 4. Impression of Future Existence. 41 Importance of these convictions, as intuitive articles o^ belief 43 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. Analysis of Man as a Moral Being .... 49 I. The Desires, The Affections, and Self-love. 54 II. The Will. 54 III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience. .)') IV. The Mokal Relation of Man towards the 55 Deity. PART I. THE DESIRES, THE AFFECTIONS, AND SELF-LOVE. SECTION I. the desires 1. Desire of the Animal Propensities 2. Desire of Wealth — Avarice 3. Desire of Power — Ambition 4. Desire of Superiority — EmulatioD 5. Desire of Society 6. Desire of Esteem or Approbation 7. Desire of Knowledge 8. Desire of Moral Improvement — Desire of Action Importance of a due Regulation of the Desires 57 59 59 59 60 61 62 65 65 67 6b SECTION II. the affections Justice 1. Justice to the Interests of others — Integrity 2 Justice to the Freedom of Action of others 70 73 75 75 CONTENTS. IX 3. Justice to the Reputation of others ... 76 4. Justice in estimating the Conduct and Character of others .77 5. Justice to the Opinions of others — Candor ... 78 6. Justice to the Feelings of others . . . .79 7. Justice to the Moral Condition of others . . 79 n. Compassion and Benevolence 81 1. Benevolence towards the Distresses of others . 83 2. Benevolence towards the Reputation of others . 84 3. Benevolence towards the Character and Conduct of others, including Forgiveness of Injuries . . 84 4. Benevolence towards the Feelings of others . . 85 5. Benevolence towards improving the Moral Condition ofotners 86 HI. Veracity 87 1. The Love of Truth, in the Reception of it . . 88 2. Veracity in delivering statements, including Sincerity 90 3. Truth of Purpose, or Correct Fulfilment of Promises 93 rV. Friendship, Love and Gratitude .... 03 V. Patriotism 95 VI. The Domestic Affections 96 VII. The Defensive Affections, Anger, Jealousy, Re- sentment 98 Important Influence produced upon the Exercise of theAfiec- tions, By Attention 100 By Habit . ^ 104 Feeling of Moral Approbation attached to the Exercise of the Affections 107 Happinesis arising from a due Exercise of the Aflfections ; — IiLfluence of Temper . . . . . Ill SECTION III. SELF-LOVE. Sense in which the term is employed . . , . 115 Tendency of a True and Rational Self-love . . 115 Morbid Exercise of it, — Selfishness .... 120 Disinterested Conduct and Self-denial . . 120 CONTENTS. PART II OF THE WILL. Bimple Volition, — its Origin from one of the Desires or Af- fections 122 Operation of Moral Causes on the Will .... 123 Nature of these Causes and Source of the Diversity of their Operation in Different Individuals .... 125 Circumstances required for the Uniformity of their Opera- tion: 1. Knowledge 128 Truths of Natural and Revealed Relisiou. 2. Attention . . . . . ^ . . 132 Its influence on Moral Decisions. 3. Moral Habits 136 Origin and Progress of Derangement of Moral Harmony. Influence of Habits upon Character . . 139 Means of Correcting Injurious Moral Habits . 140 Practical Conclusions from these Principles. Important In- fluence of Moral Habits 141 Necessity and Probability of Divine Aid in Correcting Moral Derangement 145 Influence of the Mental Operation called Faith . . . 14'' PART III. OF THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, OR CONSCIENCE. Proofs of the Existence of Conscience as a Distinct Principle of the Mind . . . .... . ItO Nature of its Operation as the Regulating Principle . . 15? Analogy between it and Reason 152 Its Influence in conveying an Impression of the Moral Attri- butes of the Deity 156 Knowledge derived from this Source . . . . 156 Comparison of the Divine Attributes with the Actual State of Man . . .159 Diniculties arising from tliis Comparison removed only by the Christian Revelation 160 Mental process by which the Regulating Power of Clonscieuce is Impaired or Lost IGi CONTENTS. Xi nfluence of this Condition upon the Judgment in regard tc Moral Truth 165 Fnfluence of Attention in Moral Decisions .... 168 Man's Responsibility for his Belief . . . 170 Important relation between Moral Emotions and vo- luntary Intellectual Processes . . . • 171 appendix to part hi. § 1. — Of the Origin and Immutability of Moral Dis- tinctions AND Theories of Morals .... 176 Origin of our Idea of Virtue and Vice . . . 178 System of Mandeville ISO of Clarke and Wollaston .... 181 System of Utility 182 Selfisn System 183 System of Paley 185 Defect of these Systems in not acknowledging the Supreme Authority of Conscience . . . 188 Objections to the belief of a uniformity of Moral Feel- ing which have been founded on the practices of barbarous nations ....... 196 System of Dr. Smith, or Theory of Sympathy . 198 Province of Reason in Moral Decisions . ;, . 201 Remarks on the Observations of some late -writers respecting the Corruption of Conscience . . 204 2. — Of the Harmony of the Moral Feelings . . 206 Consistency of Character arising from this Harmony, — and Defects of Character to which it is opposed 210 PART IV OF the moral relation of man towards the deity . 215 View of the Divine Character in reference to this Relation 216 Rfigulation of Moral Feelings which ought to arise out of it;— .• 217 1. Habitual effort to cultivate a Sense of the Divine Presence, and to regulate the Moral Feelings and Character by it 217 2. Submission to the Appointments of Providence . 222 Xll CONTENTS. 3. Sense of Moral Imperfection and Guilt, and Suppli- cation for Mercy, with Reliance on Divine Aid 223 4. Sense of Gratitude, Affection, and Love . . 224 Conduct and Character arising out of this Condition of the Moral Feelings 225 Means of Cultivating it . 226 Nature and Operation of Faith 231 Province of Faith in the Philosophy of the Moral Feelings . 234 Truths which are its more Immediate Object . 238 Its influence on the Moral Condition . . . 240 Province of Faith in the Scheme of Christianity . . 245 Harmony of Christian Truth with the Philosophy of the Moral Feelings . . . MS INTRODUCTION. METHOD OF USING THE BOOK. TO BE CAKEFTJLLY STUDIED BY THE PITPIL AS THE FIRST LESSON. There are three different and entirely distinct objects in view in the study of Moral Philosophy, and the pnpil ought to understand clearly what these objects are at the outset, in order to derive the full advantage of the study. I. Discipline of mind. By discipline we mean prac- tice and improvement. Now it is of great advantage to the powers of the mind to be practised a little in early life, in thinking and reasoning on metaphysical subjects. " But what is the precise meaning of the word meta- physkalT^ the pupil will perhaps ask. In explanation we say that all sensible objects, — that is, all that can be seen or felt, or perceived by any of the senses, — and in fact all others that are of the same nature with them, though they may be so minute or so subtle as to elude the senses, — are called physical. Thus earth, air, animals, light, the electric fluid, come within the How many objects in pursuing this study? Tlie first? Discipline, what? VVi;al Included in the i^rm. physical 7 Examples. 2 1 4 INTRODUCTION. term physical. The sciences which relate to them are called the physical sciences. But there are certain other realities with which we are conversant, that he beyond these, as it were, and are of a dilFerent nature altogether : — the powers and faculties of the mind, various moral truths, the princi- ; pies of duty, and other similar topics. They are to- i tally different in their very nature from the others. They can neither be seen nor heard nor handled They are in no place, and have no relation to time You cannot illustrate them by models or by diagrams. In fact the whole field in which they lie is entirely beyond^ as it were, the material creation. Hence they are called meta-physical ; the affix meta having the force of beyond. Now it is highly conducive to the health and vigor of the mental powers, to have them occupied in some degree in youth upon these metaphysical inquiries. For in entering upon this field, the mind is compelled 1 to draw itself off from the external and visible ■' creation, and turn back upon itself; and the power of attention and abstraction, which are thus cherished, , are of great value in all the pursuits and occupations "j^ of life. Then too the various moral and metaphysical < distinctions which the mind must learn to discern, exercise and strengthen its powers of discrimination, more than almost any other discipline. This exercise is therefore one of the great objects which should be aimed at in such a study. II. A second object which is to be gained by the study of Moral Philosophy, is the formation of correct opinions on the subject of human duty. It is more important that our opinions in respect to right and wrong should be correct, than on any other subject whatever. If our minds are thoroughly imbued with "^.xw all physical ohjccls t)e perceiveri by llie. senses ? Examples of objecis nol phy- sicHl. How .iiffureiil? Meaning of r»K;^a. INleuning of ineiapliysical. Lrtccl of meta- physical dlmliesi. Diacmniuatiou. Secoml object ? Comparative importance of soinid opiitiiii F' in morals. INTRODUCTION. 15 sound general principles, we shall be continually and almost instinctively applying them to the various situations and circumstances in which we are placed. Our conduct will thus be steady — the result of fixed principle, instead of springing from the mere impulse of feeling. The pupil ought to study such a work as this with this object very steadily and very distinctly in view. Your opinions in respect to what is right and wrong in human conduct are now to be moulded and formed. Your principles are to be fixed. The frame work of a moral system is to be constructed, around which your future character is to be in a great measure formed, and by which your principles and opinions on almost all other subjects are to be modified. No argu- ment is necessary to show that, in this view of the case, the study of Moral Philosophy is one of the most important studies of life. III. The third great object to be regarded in the pursuit of this study is its direct practical bearing upon the heart and conduct of the pupil. How far it may prove conducive to such an end, will depend very much, — altogether, in fact, — upon the spirit and temper with which it is commenced. "Do 1 really wish,'' should the pupil ask himself, — " Do 1 really wish to learn my duty for the purpose of doing it 7 Do I really, honestly wish, while 1 live in this world, to conform my conduct more and more to the principles of recti- tude? to make it my rule to do always what is right, because it is right? and to live with the constant object in mind of endeavoring to please my great Creator and Benefactor, by obeying his commands and complying with his will 7" If you commence such a study as this with these desires, and go on through chapter after chapter of the work, looking constantly for light to shine upon your path of daily duty, — the study will be found to have a very powerful and permanent influence in the formation of your character. Effect upon the conduct, what. Third otDject ? Its accomplishment depends upon ivhat 1 Questions ? 16 INTRODUCTION. These three objects then should be kept by the pupii constantly in mind, as he proceeds with this study, — intellectual discipline, the formation of correct opinions, and practical improvement. If these three objects are thus aimed at and secured, the class will have found the time devoted to this study hours most profitably spent. The directions to be given in respect to the mode of studying the book, are substantially the same with those contained in the introduction to the other work. We repeat them here, for even if the pupil has already used that text-book, his mind should be refreshed with these directions, on commencing this, and they will be still more necessary to classes who may use this first. And in the first place I must remark that Moral Philosophy, like Intellectual Philosophy, is not and can- not be an easy study. Its very difficulty is the source of one of the great benefits, the mental discipline, which is to be obtained from it. These metaphysical studies are intended as a sort of intellectual gymnastics, in which the tasks ought indeed to be brought fairly within the powers of the pupil, but they ought nearly to equal those powers, so as to call them into active and vigorous exercise, or the end will be lost, [f, therefore, the writer of a treatise on such a subject comes down so completely to the level of the young as to make the study mere light reading, he fails entirely of accomplishing what ought to be his highest aim. He destroys the difiiculty and the advantage together. It is indeed true, that a very useful book may be writ- ten for children, with the design of merely giving iliem information on some subjects connected with the phi- losophy of mind and of morals. It might be entertain- ing, and to a considerable degree instructive, but it would answer few of the important purposes which ought to be in view, m the introduction of such a study Recapiliilaiinn of the objects. Is this sliiily iiitendeil to be an easy one ? Why not 7 The study dillicult. Why ? Gymnaaiics. Difference between reading and study on ihis snhjecl. INTRODUCTION. 17 into literary institutions. It would not develop the reasoning or thinking powers. It would awaken no new intellectual effort. Such being the nature of these studies, it is plain that it ought not to be commenced by any pupil with- out a propci understanding of the difficulties, or the qualifications necessary to surmount them. These qualifications are the following: I. Ability to understand the language of the work. It is not a child's book. It was written by a man, and was intended to be read by men. The editor has made no effort to alter it in this respect, so that the book stands on a level, as to its style and language, with the great mass of books intended to influence and interest the mature. It ought to be so; for to be able to under- stand such writing is necessary for all, and if the pupil is far enough advanced in his education to study meta- physics, it is quite time for him to be habituated to it. Let no pupil therefore, after he is fairly engaged in the study, complain that he cannot understand the. lessons. This is a point which ought to be settled before he begins. The pupil may read as attentively as he pleases. He may make use of a dictionary, or any other similar help. He may make occasional inquiries of a friend ; but if he cannot, with such assistance, really under- stand the train of thought presented in any lesson, and give a tolerable account of it to his teacher, he had better for the present postpone the study of Moral Phi- losophy: his mind is too immature. II. Mental otdtivation enough to be interested in the subject of the loork. The subjects discussed, and the views presented, are of such a nature, that the undisci- plined can take no interest in them. They cannot ap- preciate them. Unless the mind has made considerable progress in its development, and in its attainments in other branches, and unless it has, in some degree, (.Inalificalions. First qualification, what? Language of the book. Second qHal' €r;Uior.. , 2^ 18 INTRODUCTION. formed habits of patient attention, it must fail in the attempt to appreciate such a study as this. The pninl, in such a case, after going a Httle way, will say that the book is dull and dry. He will attribute to the study, or to the mode in which it is treated, a failure, which really results from his own deficiency. He ought to reflect when tempted to make this charge, that it cannot be possible that the study is, in itself, uninteresting. This treatise of Dr. Abercrombie's has been bought and read with avidity by thousands in Great Britain and America, who could have been led to it by no mo- tive whatever, but the interest which the subject in- spires. They, therefore, who are not interested in it, after making faithful efforts, fail of being so because their minds are not yet prepared to appreciate what %ey read ; and by complaining of the dryness or dull- ness of the book, they are really exposing their oavu incompetency to enter into the spirit of it. The teach- er ought to take care that his pupils do not commence the work until they are capable of feeling the interest which it is calculated to awaken. HI. A loiUmgness to give to the sitbject the severe^ patient and persevering study which it demands. Some will wish to take up such a branch merely for the sake of having something new. Others because their vanity is flattered by the idea that they are studying Philoso- phy. Others still, because they wish for the honor of being in a class with certain individuals known as good scholars. Beginning with such ideas and mo- tives will only lead to disappointment and failure. The pupil ought to approach this subject Avith a dis- tinct understanding that though it is full of interest, it will be full of difficulty ; that it will try, to the utmost, his powers; and that the pleasure which he is to seek in the pursuit of it is the enjoyment of high intellectual effort, — the interest of encountering and overcoming Consequences of commencing the study without it. The study really interesting ; hd.v proved to be so. Complaints of its dullness show what? Third qualification Wr >ng motives for commencing the study. Propttr views of it. INTRODUCE »N. 19 difficulties, and opening to himself a new field of knowledge, and a new scope for the exercise of his powers. I come now to describe a method of studying and reciting the lessons in such a work as this. I say a method, because it is only meant to be proposed for adoption in cases w here another or a better one is not at hand. Experienced and skilful teachers have their own modes of conducting such studies, and the recita- tions connected with them, with which there ought to be no interference. The plan about to be proposed may, however, be of use in assisting teachers who are, for the first time, introducing this study to their schools ; and the principles on which it is based are well worthy the attention of every pupil who is about to commence this study. 1. When you sit down to the study of a lesson in this work, be careful to be free from interruption, and to have such a period of time before you, to be occu- pied in the work, as will give you the opportunity really to enter into it. Then banish other thoughts entirely from the mind, and remove yourself as far as possible from other objects of interest or sources of in- terruption. The habit into which many young persons alloAA'- themselves to fall, of studying lessons in fragments of time, having the book, perhaps, for some time before them, but allowing their attention to be conunually diverted from their pursuit, will only lead to superficial and utterly useless attainments. It is destructive ^o all those habits of mind necessary for success in any im- portant intellectual pursuit. It is especially injurious in such a study as this. Metaphysical Philosophy is emphatically the science of thought^ and nothing effec- tual can be done in it without patient, continued, and solitary study. Method of studying, why proposed. First direction. A common but faulty mode if studying described. Its effecls, what ? 20 INTRODUCTION. 2. Ascertain before you commence any lesson what place it occupies in the general plan of the book, with which, at the outset, you should become very tho- roughly acquainted. Nothing promotes so much the formation of logical and systematic habits of mind, and nothing so effectually assists the memory, in regard to what any particular work contains, as the keeping constantly in view the general plan of the book ; look- ing at it as a whole, and understanding distinctly, not merely each truth, or system of truths, brought to view, but the place which it occupies in the general design. 3. This preparation being made, you are prepared to read the lesson, which should be done, the first time, with great attention and care, and with especial etfort to understand the connection between each sentence and paragraph, and t^^ose which precede and follow it. It should always bv. t)rne in mind, that treatises on such subjects as these present trains of thought and reasoning, not mere detached ideas and sentences. Every remark, therefore, should be examined, not by itself, but in its connections. This should be especially observed in regard to the anecdotes and illustrations with which the work abounds. The bearing of each one on the subject should be very carefully studied. They are all intended to prove some point, or to illus- trate some position. After reading such narratives, then, you should not only take care to understand it as a story, but should ask yourselves such questions as these: "Why is this story introduced here? What does the author mean to prove by it? What principle does it illustrate? The pupil, too, should avail himself of collateral helps in understanding the lesson. Every geographical, or iiistorical, or personal allusion should be examined with the help of the proper books. If a distin2:uished indi- vidual is mentioned, find the account of his life in a Second direction. EiTccis of iliis practice. Third direction. Connections of p i>»sitge. Anecd'tes and illustrations, liow to be studied ? Coilaleral nelps INTRODUCTION. 21 biographical dictionary. If a place is named, seek it on the map. There is one other direction which I am sorry to say it is absolutely necessary to mention. Look out ail the words, whose meaning you do not dictinctly and fully understand, in a dictionary. Strange as it ma-j seem, in nine cases out of ten, a pupil in school will find in his lesson a sentence con- taining words he does not understand, and, after per- plexing himself some minutes with it in vain, he will go to his recitation in ignorance of its meaning, as if he never had heard of such a contrivance as a dictionary. Now the habit of seeking from other books explana- tions and assistance in regard to your studies is of in- calculable value. It will cause you some addftional trouble, but it will multiply, many fold, your interest and success. 4. After having thus read, with minute and critical attention, the portion assigned, the pupil should next take a cursory review of it, by glancing the eye over the paragraphs, noticing the heads, and the questions or topics in the margin, for the purpose of taking in, as it were, a view of the passage as a whole. The order of discussion which the author adopts, and the regular manner in which the several steps of an argument, or the several applications of a principle, succeed one another, should be carefully observed. There are the same reasons for doing this, in regard to any particular chapter, as in regard to the whole work. The connec- tion, too, betAveen the passage which constitutes the lesson, and the rest of the book, i. e. the place Avhich it oc( upies in the plan of the author, should be brought to mind again. You thus classify and arrange, in your own mind, what is learned, and not only fix it more firmly, but you are acquiring logical habits of mind, which will be of lasting and incalculable value. 5. You will thus have acquired a thorough know- Examples of this. Use of dictionary. Fourth direction. Review of the lesaoo tlkjnneclions of the lesson. 22 I.NTltODUCTlON. ledge of the lesson, but this is by no means all that is necessary. You must learn to recite it ; that is, you must learn to express, in your own language, the ideas you have thus acquired. This is a distinct and an important point. Nothing is more common than for pupils to say, when they attempt to recite in such a study as this, " I know the answer, but I cannot ex- press it;" as if the power to express was not as im- portant as the ability to understand. The pupil then must make special preparation for this part of his duty, that is, for expressing in his own language the thoughts and principles of the author. The best way, perhaps, of making this preparation is to go over the lesson, looking only at the topics in the margin, and repeating aloud, or in a whisper, or in thought, the substance of what is stated under each. Be careful that what you say makes complete and perfect sense of itself, that it is expressed in clear and natural language, and that it is a full exposition of the author's meaning. Such a study as this ought not to be recited by mere question and answer. \V henever the subject will allow, it is better for the teacher to give out a subject or topic, on which the pupil may express the sentiments of the writer. This is altogether the pleasantest, as well as the most useful mode of recitation. Those unaccus- tomed to it will, of course, find a little difliculty at first. But the very effort to surmount this difficulty will be as useful in developing and strengthening the hitellectual powers, as any other effort which the study requires. You should go over the lesson, then, for the pnrpose of reciting it to yourself, as it were, by looking at the marginal titles, one by one, and distinctly stating to yourself the substance of the author's views upon each. if this preparation is made, and if the recitation is Fifth direction. Learning to recite. What implied in this. Common Prcpararion, how to be nude. Mode of questioning. Advantage of this mode. INTRODUCTIOxX. 23 conducted on the same principles, the pupiJs will soon find themselves making very perceptible and rapid progress in that most important art, viz. expressing their sentiments with fluency, distinctness, and promp- titude. It will be evident, from what is said above, that the pupil ought not to commit to memory the language of the author. This practice may indeed be useful, in strengthening the memory, and in some other ways, but very far higher objects ought to be in view, in studying such a work as this, and they will be far better attained by the pupils depending entirely on them- selves for the language in which they express their ideas. 6. After the class has, in this thorough manner, gone through with one of the divisions of the book, they should pause, to review it ; and the best, as well as the pleasantest mode of conducting a review, is to assign to the class some written exercises on the portion to be thus re-examined. These exercises may be of various kinds : I shall, however, mention only two. (1.) An abstract of the chapter to be reviewed; that is, a brief exposition, in writing, of the plan of the chapter, with the substance of the writer's views on each head. Such an abstract, though it will require some labor at first, will be, with a little practice, a pleasant exercise ; and perhaps there is nothing which so effectually assists in digesting the knowledge which the pupil has obtained, and in fixing it indelibly upon the mind, and nothing is so conducive to accurate logical habits of thought, as this writing an analysis of a scientific work. It may be very brief, and ellipti- cal in its style ; its logical accuracy is the main point to be secured. By devoting a single exercise at the end of each section to such an exercise, a class can go on regularly through the book, and, with very httle delay, make an abstract of the whole. Commitling to memory. Sixth direction. Review, how to be conducted, first method, what ? Its uaes. Style and manner. 24 INTRODUCTION. (2.) Writing additional illustrations of the principles brought to view, — ilhistrations furnished either by tliS experience or observation of the pupil, or by what he has read in books. There are multitudes of subjects dis- cussed in the work, suitable for this purpose. Wherever anecdotes are told, illustrating the laws of the human mind, the pupil can add others ; for these laws are the same in all minds, and are constantly in operation. Writing these additional illustrations, especially if they are derived from your own experience, will have ano- ther most powerful effect. They will turn your atten- tion within, and accustom you to watch the operations, and study the laws of your own minds. Many pupils do not seem to understand that it is the powers and movements of the immaterial principle within their own bosoms, which are the objects of investigation in such a science. Because illustrations are drawn from the histories of men with strange names, who lived iiii other countries, and a hall a century ago, they seeini insensibly to imbibe the idea, that it is the philosophy of tliese mens minds which they are studying, not' their own. Now the fact is, that appeals are made to the history and experience of these individuals, simply because they are more accessible to the writers of books. A perfect system of Metaphysical Philosophy might be written, with all its illustrations drawn from the thoughts and feelings of any single pupil in the class. The mind is in its essential laws everywhere the same ; and of course you can find the evidence of the existence and operation of all these laws in your own breasts, if you will look there. What you cannot, by proper research, find confirmed by your own experi-- ence, or your observations upon those around you, isf not a law of mind. Such is substantially the course which is rocom Second mode. Example. Ailvaiilages of it. Coimiion misunderstaniling '.\\ re^ai 1(1 the nature of this study. INTllOUUCTION. 25 mended to those who shall commence the study of this work. It will be perceived that the ohject of it is to make the study of it, if possible, not what it too often is, the mere mechanical repetition of answers marked and committed to memory, but an intellectual and tho- rough investigation of a science. . If the book is studied hi this way, it must have a most powerful influence in cultivating accurate and discriminating habits, in deve- loping intellectual power, and in storing the mind with correct moral principles, and permanently plpv^,t'rig and improving the moral character. 3 I-: ducing derangement. Way in Avhich the senses influ cnce us 7 3=^ 30 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [sEC I. concern as moral beings is with things future, a/id things unseen; and often with circumstances in our own moral history, long past, and perhaps forgotten. Hence the benefit of retirement and calm reflection, and of every thing that tends to withdraw us from the im- pression of sensible objects, and that leads us to feel the superiority of things which are not seen. Under such influence, the mind displays an astonishing power of recalling the past and grasping the future, and of viewing objects in their true relations to itself and to each other. The first of these, indeed, we see exem- plified in many affections, in which the mind is cut off, in a greater or less degree, from its intercourse Avith the external world, by causes acting upon the bodily or- ganization. In another work I have described many remarkable examples of the mind, in this condition, re- calhng its old impressions respecting things long past and entirely forgotten ; and the facts there stated call our attention in a very striking manner to its inherent powers and its independent existence. This subject is one of intense interest, and suggests reflections of the most important kind, respecting the powers and properties of the thinking principle. In particular, it leads us to a period which we are taught to anticipate even by the inductions of intellectual sci- ence, when, tlie bodily frame being dissolved, the think- ing and reasoning essence shall exercise its peculiar faculties in a higher state of being. There are facts in the mental phenomena which give a high degree of In what way does retirement and calm reflection henefit us ? Power of the mind in such a case. Wlial other work referred to? Facts there stated, what ? Meaning of the phrase, " taught to anticipate by the inductions of intellectnal science." What are we thus ta\v.::;ht to anticipate ? SEC. 1.] PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 51 probability to the conjecture, that the whole transac- tions of life, with the motives and moral history of each individual, may then be recalled by a process of the mind itself, and placed, as at a single glance, distinctly before him. Were we to realize such a mental condi- tion, we should not fail to contemplate the impressions so recalled with feelings very diiferent from those by which we are apt to be misled amid the influence of present and external things. The tumult of life is over: — pursuits, principles, and motives, which once bore an aspect of importance, are viewed with feelings more adapted to their true value. The moral principle recovers that authority which, amid the contests of passion, had been obscured or lost; — each act and each emotion is seen in its relations to the great dictates of truth, and each pursuit of life in its real bearing on the great concerns of a moral being ; — and the whole as- sumes a character of new and wondrous import, when viewed in relation to that Incomprehensible One, who is then disclosed in all his attributes as a moral governor. Time past is contracted into a point, and that the in- fancy of being ; time to come is seen expanding into eternal existence. Such are the views which open on him who woiild inquire into the essence by which man is distinguished as a rational and moral being. Compared with it, what are all the phenomena of nature, — what is all the his- tory of the world, — the rise and fall of empires, — or the fate of those who rule them. These derive their inte- rest from local and transient relations, but this is to Life, how regarded in future retrospection ? Tir oortance of the moral rela Ho'As of man. 32 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [SEC. 1. exist forever. That science, therefore, must be consi- dered as the highest of all human pursuits, which con- templates man in his relation to eternal things. With its importance we must feel its difficulties ; and, did we coiiline the investigation to the mere principles of natu- ral science, we should feel these difficulties to be insur- mountable. But, in this great inquiry, we have two sources of knowledge, to which nothing analogous is to be found in the history of physical science, and which will prove infallible guides, if we resign our- selves to their direction with sincere desire to discover the truth. These are, the light of conscience, and the light of divine revelation. In making this state- ment, I am aware that t tread on delicate ground, and that some will consider an appeal to the sacred writings as a departure from the strict course of philosophical inquiry. This opinion, 1 am satisfied, is entirely at va- riance with truth ; and, in every moral investigation, if we take the inductions of sound philosophy, along with the dictates of conscience, and the light of reveal- ed truth, we shall find them to constitute one uniform and harmonious whole, the various parts of which tend, in a remarkable manner, to establish and illustrate each other. If, indeed, in any investigation of moral science, we disregard the light which is furnished by the sacred writings, we resemble an astronomer who should rely entirely on his unaided sight, and reject those optical , inventions whicli extend so remarkably the field of his « vision, as to be to him the revelation of things not Rank >f this science? DifficuUies ? Peculiar sources of knowieige, how many ? What ? An appeal to the sacred writings, how regarded by some persons ? Neglecting the light of revelation, compared to wnat ? SEC. I.] MEANS OF CONDUCTING THE INQUIRY. 33 seen. Could we suppose a person thus entertaining doubts respecting the knowledge supplied by the tele- scope, yet proceeding in a candid manner to inves- tigate its truth, he would perceive, in the telescopic ol> servations themselves, principles developed which are calculated to remove his suspicions. For, in the limit- ed knowledge which is furnished by vision alone, he finds difficulties which he cannot explain, apparent in- consistencies which he cannot reconcile, and insulated facts which he cannot refer to any known principle. But, in the more extended knowledge which the telescope yields, these difficulties disappear; facts are brought together which seemed unconnected or discordant ; and the universe appears one beautiful system of order and consistency. It is the same in the experience of the moral inquirer, when he extends his views beyond the inductions of reason, and corrects his conclusions by the testimony of God. Discordant principles are brought together ; doubts and difficulties disappear ; and beauty, order, and harmony are seen to pervade the government of the Deity. In this manner there also arises a species of evidence for the doctrines of revelation, which is en- tirely independent of the external proofs of its divine origin; and which, to the candid mind, invests it with all the character of authenticity and truth. From these combined sources of knowledge, thus illustrating and confirming each other, we are enabled to attain, in moral inquiries, a degree of certainty adapt- ed to their high importance. We do so when, with Effect of tlie use of the telescope in removing difBculties? Effect in mora' M'.icnce of resorting to the light of revelation ? Are these combined sources »iilTicient ? 34 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [sEC. 11.1 sincere desire to discover the truth, we resign ourselves' to the guidance of the hght which is wilh.n, aided as it- is by that hght from heaven which shines upon the' path of the humble inquirer. Cultivated on these prin-' ciples, the science is fitted to engage the most powerful mind ; while it will impart strength to the most com- mon understanding. It terminates in no barren specu- lations, but tends directly to promote peace on earth, and good- will among men. It is calculated both to en- large the understanding, and to elevate and purify the feelings, and thus to cultivate the moral being for the life which is to come. It spreads forth to the view, be- coming smoother and brighter the farther it is pursued ; and the rays which illuminate the path converge in the throne of him who is eternal. SECTION II OF FIRST TRUTHS IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. The knowledge which we receive tlirough our intel- lectual powers is referable to two classes. These may be distinguished by the names of acquired knowledge, and intuitive or fundamental articles of belief It may be Avell to make to the pupil one or two general statements in respect to the origin of our knowledge, which What are the two sources of knowledge alliuli'd to ? To what minds is the cultivation of the science adapted Prat-tit a! vlTi\-{ of iho siitdv ? SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 35 will make what follows in this chapter more clear. Human knowledge may then, in the first place, be referred to two great classes. ^ I. That which we receive by the senses, seeing, hearing, &;c. II. That which we receive by the intellectual powers, rea- soning, reflection, &c. The knowledge that grass is green, and that lead is heavy, and vinegar sour, comes under the former of these heads. Our knowledge of the properties of the triangle, and of the nature of the human mind, comes under the latter. This dis- tinction is clearly pointed out and illustrated in the author's Treatise on Intellectual Philosophy. It is only the second of the two heads which is considered in this chapter. Hence it commences, " The knowledge which we receive through our intellectual powers is referable," &c. ; so that the two classes spoken of in this chapter is only a subdivision of the second great branch into which the sources of knowledge are divided. The subdivision is, as the pupil will perceive, 1. Knowledge which is acquired. 2. Knowledge which is intuitive. Our conviction that playing games of hazard, for money, is wrong, is an example of the first class ; that is, it is acquired. We obtain' it by a long course of observation of the deleterious, influences of such a practice, or else by carefully considering the nature and probable tendencies of it. On the other hand, our belief that maliciously giving pain to one who has never injured us, is wrong, is an example of the second class ; that is, it is intuitive. The mind sees the truth at once, without any train of investigation or reasoning. Which part of these remarks is written by the author, and which by the American editor ? First great division of the sources of knowledge ? Exam- ples of knowledge acquired by the senses? By the intellectual powers? Which class treated of in this chapter? Subdivision of it? Example of acquired knowledge ? Example of intuitive knowledge ? I 36 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [sEC. II. | It is impossible to prove it. It is in itself more simple than any thing by which it could be proved. Now in all sciences, the first step is, to point out and define the intuitive truths, or first principles, as they are sometimes called, i. e., those which the mind receives at once, the mo- ment they are presented, without any train of reasoning or investigation to establish them. These are made the basis on which all the other truths of the science are established. Thus in Geometry, for example, the first principles are always laid down at the outset, without proof. They are called axi- oms. They are such as these : Things which are equal to the same things are equal to one another, and the ivhole is greater than a part. The pupil will perceive that the truth of the axioms is perceived by the mind intuitively ; that is, at once, without any train of reasoning to establish them. In fact, they, and others like them, are the elements of the rea- soning by which all other truths are to be proved. In the same way in all the other sciences, the first thing is to lay down the first truths, that is, those which are iiituitively perceived by the mind, and which are the foundation of all that follow. It is the object of this chapter to point out the nature of them, and to enumerate those which appertain to moral philosophy. Onr acquired knowledge is procured by the active use of our mental powers, in collecting facts, tracing their relations, and observing the deductions which arise out of particular combinations of them. These constitute the operations which I have referred to in another work, under the heads of processes of invcsti First step in all sciences ? Nature of first truths ? Connection with othei truths? Examples of them in Goometrj' ? Name criven to them in Ge- ometry? Object of this chapter? Acquired knowledge, how prooired ? By wliat wo processes ? SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS 1^ MORAL SCIENCE. 37 gation, and processes of reasoning. The full exercise of Ihem requires a certain culture of the mental facul- ties, and consequently is confined to a comparatively small number of men. We perceive, however, that such culture is not essential to every mdividual, for many are very deficient in it who yet are considered as persons of sound mind, and capable of discharging their duties in various situations of life in a creditable ctnd useful manner. But the knowledge which we derive from the other source is of immediate and essential importance to men of every degree ; and, without it, no individual could engage, with confidence, in any of the common trans- actions of life, or make any provision for his protection or comfort, or even for the continuance of his existence. These are the principles also treated of, in a former work, under the name of First Truths. They are not, like our knowledge of the other kind, the result of any process either of investigation or of reasoning ; and, for the possession of them, no man either depends upon his own observation, or has recourse to that of other men. They area part of his mental constitution, arising, with a feeling of absolute certainty, in every sound mind; and, while they admit of no proof by processes of rea- soning, sophistical objections brought against them can be combated only by an appeal to the consciousness of every man, and to the absolute conviction which forces itself upon the whole mass of mankind. If the Creator has thus implanted in the mind of man Is the exercise of these operations universal ? Why not ? Importance of knowledge derived from the other source ? By what name are those intuitive principles called in the author's former work? What work alluded to? Author's remarks about the nature of these truths. * 4 38 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [SEC. U principles to. guide him in his intellectual and ph^^sical relations, independently of any. acquired knowledge, we might naturally expect to find him endowed, in the same manner, with principles adapted to his more im- portant relations as a moral being. We might natu- rally expect, that in these high concerns, he would not be left to the knowledge which he might casually ac- quire, either through his own powers of investigation or reasoning, or through instruction received from other men. Impressions adapted to this important end we accordingly find developed in a remarkable manner, and they are referable to that part of our constitution which holds so important a place in the philosophy of the mind, by which we perceive differences in the mo- ral aspect of actions, and approve or disapprove of them as right or wrong. The convictions derived from this source seem to occupy the same place in the moral system, that first truths, or intuitive articles of belief, do in the intellectual. Like them, also, they admit of no direct proofs by processes of reasoning; and, when sophistical arguments are brought against them, the only true answer consists in an appeal to the conscience of every uncontaminated mind ; by which we mean chiefly the consciousness of its own moral impressions, in a mind which has not been degraded in its moral perceptions by a course of personal depravity. This iS a consideration of the utmost practical importance; and it will probably appear that many well-intended arguments, respecting tlie first principles of moral truth, have been inconclusive, in the same manner as were Should we expect first princii)lfs in moral science to be implanted in the mind? Why? Do these first principles admit of proof? Proper reply to RrcjLments against ^lem ? iEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 39 attempts to establish first truths by processes of reason- ing, because the hue of argument adopted in regard to them was one of which they are not susceptible. The force of this analogy is in no degree weakened by the fact, that there is, in many cases, an apparent difference between that part of our mental constitution on which is founded our conviction of first truths, and that prin- ciple from which is derived our impression of moral truth : for the former continues the same in every mind which is neither obscured by idiocy nor distorted by insanity ; but the moral feelings become vitiated by a process of the mind itself, by which it has gradually gone astray from rectitude. Hence the difference we find in the decisions of different men, respecting moral truth, arising from peculiarities in their own men- tal condition ; and hence that remarkable obscuration of mind, at which some men at length arrive, by which the judgment is entirely perverted respecting the first great principles of moral purity. When, therefore, we appeal to certain principles in the mental constitution, as the source of our first impressions of moral truth, our appeal is made chiefly to a mind which is neither obscured by depravity, nor bewildered by the refine- ments of a false philosophy : it is made to a mind in which conscience still holds some degree of its rightful authority, and in which there is a sincere and honest desire to discover the truth. These two elements of character must go together in eve^y correct inquiry in moral science ; and, to a man in an opposite condition, A J parent difference betv/een first truths in intellectual science, and first principles in moral science 1 Can either be ever eradicated from the mind ? Which ? In w \at way are they eradicated or corrupted ? 40 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [SEC. H. we should no more appeal, in regard to the principles of moral truth, than we should take from the fatuous person or the maniac oui test of those first principles of intellectual truth, which are allowed to be original elements of belief in every sound mind. To remedy the evils arising from this diversity and distortion of moral perception, ic one of the objects of divine revelation. By means of it there is introduced a fixed and uniform standard of -moral truth ; but, it is of importance to remark, that, for the authority of this, an appeal is made to principles in the mind itself, and that every part of it challenges the assent of the man m whom conscience has not lost its power in the men- tal economy. Keeping in view the distinction which has now been referred to, it would appear, chat there are certain first principles of moral truth, which arise in the mind by the most simple process of reflection, either as consti- tuting its own primary moral convictions, or as follow- ing from its consciousness of these convictions by a plain and obvious chain of relations. These are chiefly the following. 1. A perception of the nature and quality of actions, as ]ust or unjust, right or wrong ; and a conviction of certain duties, as of justice, veracity, and benevolence, which every man owes to his fellow-men. Every man in his own case, again, expects the same ofiices from others; and on this reciprocity of feeling is founded Oltject of divine revelation. What is introduced into it ? What appeal of- ten made in the Scriptures 7 Result of llie foregoing considerations 7 Whal W the first of these elementary principles i SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 41 the precept, which'is felt to be one of universal obliga- tion, to do to others as we would that they should do to us. II. From this primary moral impression, there arises, by a most natural sequence, a conviction of the existence and superintendence of a great moral Governor of the universe, a being of infinite perfection and infi- nite purity. A belief in this Being, as the first great cause, is derived, as we have formerly seen, by a sim- ple step of reasoning, from a survey of the works of na- ture, taken in connection with the first truth, that every event must have an adequate cause. Our sense of his moral attributes arises, with a feeling of equal certainty, when, from the moral impressions of our own minds, we infer the mora] attributes of him who thus formed us. III. From these combined impressions, there natu- rally springs a sense of moral responsibility ; or a con- viction, that, for the due performance of the duties which are indicated by the conscience, or moral con- sciousness, man is responsible to the Governor of the universe ; and farther, that to this Being he owes, more Immediately, a certain homage of the moral feelings, entirely distinct from the duties which he owes to his fellow-men. . lY. From this chain of moral convictions, it is im- possible to separate a deep impression of continued ex- istence, or of a state of being beyond the present life, and of that as a state of moral retribution. Second principle ? Is this strictly intuitive ? How derived ? Our ideas of moral attributes of the Deity? Third principle ? Nature of it 7 Fourth principle, relating to a future existence. 4# 42 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [sEC. H. The consideration of these important objects of beUef will afterwards occur to us in various parts of our in- quiry. They are briefly stated here, in reference to the place which they hold as First Truths, or primary articles of moral belief, which arise by a natural and obvious chain of sequence, in the moral conviction of every sound understanding. For the truth of them we appeal not to any process of reasoning, properly so called: but to the conviction which forces itself upon every regulated mind. Neither do we go abroad among savage nations, to inquire whether the impression of them be universal ; for this may be obscured in com- munities, as it is in individuals, by a course of moral ^ degradation. We appeal to the casuist himself, whe- ^ ther, in the calm moment of reflection, he can divest Itimself of their power. We appeal to the feelings of the man who, under the consciousness of guilt, shrinks from the dread of a present Deity, and the anticipation of a future reckoning. But chiefly we appeal to the conviction of him, in whom conscience retains its right- ful supremacy, and who habitually cherishes these mo- mentous truths, as his guides in this life in its relation to the life that is to come. In applying to these important articles of belief the name of First Truths, or primary principles of moral conviction, I do not mean to ascribe to them any thing of the nature of innate ideas. I mean only that they arise, with a rapid or instantaneous conviction, entirely distinct from what we call a process of reasoning, in Are these truths to be hereafter considered more fully? Why then are ihoy mentioned here ? The ground of our hclief of thorn? Is belief of thcni universal ? Why not ? Can nuo whose moral powers have not becoma 'o'- nipli'd, liciutit Ihoiii ? SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 43 every regulated mind, when it is directed, by the most simple course of reflection, to the phenomena of nature without, and to the moral feelings of which it is con- scious within. It appears to be a point of the utmost practical importance, that we should consider them as thus arising out of principles which form a part of our moral constitution ; as it is in this way only that we can consider them as calculated to influence the mass of mankind. For, if we do not believe them to arise, in this manner, by the spontaneous exercise of every uncorrupted mind, there are only two methods by which we can suppose them to originate : the one is a direct revelation from the Deity ; the other is a process of reasoning or of investigation, properly so called, analogous to that by which we acquire the knowledge of any principle in natural science. We cannot believe that they are derived entirely from revelation, because we find the belief existing where no revelation is known, and because we find the sacred writers appealing to them as sources of conviction existing in the mental constitution of every man. There is an obvious ab- surdity, again, in supposing that principles which are to regulate the conduct of responsible beings, should be left to the chance of being unfolded by processes of rea- soning, in which diflferent minds may arrive at diflerent conclusions, and in regard to which many are incapa- ble of following out any argument at all. What is called the argument a />r/ori for the existence and attri- butes of the Deity, for instance, conveys little that is Why are they to be considered as first truths ? What are the only two other ways of accounting for our belief of ihem ? Difficulty in regard to the first ? to the second ? Value of argument on these truths. ^4 priori argument to prove the existence of the Deity. 44 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [sEC. H. c^ncliisve to most minds, and to many is entirely in- con.prehensible. The same observation may be ap- plied to those well-intended and able arguments, by , which the probability of a future state is shown from ; analogy and from the constitution of the mind. These are founded chiefly on three considerations, — the ten- dency of virtue to produce happiness, and of vice to be followed by misery, — the unequal distribution of good | and evil in the present life, — and the adaptation of our | moral faculties to a state of being very different from that in which we are at present placed. There is much in these arguments calculated to elevate our con- ceptions of our condition as moral beings, and of that future state of existence for which we are destined; and there is much scope for the highest powers of rea- soning, in showing the accordance of these truths with .' the soundest inductions of true philosophy. But, not- withstanding all their truth and all their utility, it may be doubted whether they are to any one the foimdation i of his faith in another state of being. It must be ad- • mitted, at least, that their force is felt by those only whose minds have been in some degree trained to ha- _ bits of reasoning, and that they are therefore not T adapted to the mass of mankind. But the truths which they are intended to establish are of eternal ' importance to men of every degree, and we should i therefore expect them to rest upon evidence which i finds its way with unerring aim to the hearts of the Are by v,'hich are recognised our bodily qualities. The b hardened criminal, whose life has been a series of in- justice and fraud, when at length brought into circum- stances which expose him to the knowledge or the retribution of his fellow-men, expects from them vera-;^ city and justice, or perhaps even throws himself upon their mercy. He thus recognises such principles as a i; part of the moral constitution, just as the blind man, ^ ) when he has missed his way, asks direction of the first c person he meets, presuming upon the latter possessing | a sense which, though lost to him, he still considers as ^ belonging to every sound man. In defending himself,, i^ also, the criminal shows the same recognition. For, il his object is to disprove the alleged facts, or to frame ^ excuses for his conduct ; — he never attempts to ques- tion those universal principles by which he feels that his actions must be condemned, if the facts are proved ^ against him. Without such principles, indeed, thus » universally recognised, it is evident that the whole \ system of human things would go into confusion and ruin. Human laws may restrain or punish gross acts of violence and injustice ; but they can never provide for numberless methods by which a man may injure^ his neighbor, or promote his OAvn interest at the ex pense of others. There are, in fact, but a very few cases which can be- provided for by any human insti- tution ; it is a principle within that regulates the whole Are there certain fixed principles of duty recognised by mankind ? Exam- ple oi this ? The criminal's mode of defence ? Inference from this? Ne- cessity of such principles ? Would human laws be sufficient without them '' - Why not ? SEC. II. J FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 47 moral economy. In its extent and importance, when compared with all the devices of man, it may be Hkened fo those great principles which guide the movements of the universe, contrasted with the contrivances by which men produce particular results for their own convenience ; and one might as well expect to move a planet by machinery, or propel a comet by the power of steam, as to preserve the semblance of order in the moral world, without those fundamental principles of rectitude which form a part of the original constitution 01 every rational being. jf'arther, as each man has the consciousness of these principles in himself, he has the conviction that similar principles exist in others. Hence arises the impression, that, as he judges of their conduct by his own moral feelings, so will they judge of him by corresponding feelmgs in themselves. In this manner is produced that reciprocity of moral impression, by which a man feels the opinion of his fellow-men to be either a re- ward or a punishment; and hence also springs that great rule of relative duty, which teaches us to do to others as we would that they should do to us. This uniformity of moral feelmg and affection even proves a check upon those who have subdued the influence of these feelings m themselves. Thus, a man who has thrown off all sense of justice, compassion, or benevo- lence, is still kept under a certain degree of control by the conviction of these impressions existing in those by whom he is surrounded. There are indeed men in To what are these principles compared ? Conviction of the mind in re spect to the principles of others ? What moral effects spring from this 1 Moral restraint exerted by it ? 48 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. [SEC. 11.1,; the world, as has been remarked by Butler, in whorai" this appears to be the only restraint to which theirr conduct is subjected. \ Upon the whole, therefore, there seems to be ground :' for assuming, that the articles of belief, which have, been the subject of the preceding observations, are pri-. mary principles arising with an immediate feeling of conviction in our moral constitution; and that they' correspond with those elements in our intellectual eco- i nomy, which are commonly called First Truths, — principles which are now universally admitted to re-, quire no other evidence than the conviction whicQi Ibrces itself upon every sound understanding. Siimrnary. PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. The preceding sections of this work have been only prelt' minary. They have related to the nature of the science itself, and to those great First Principles, or Elementary Truths, on which the whole science must be based. The author now first enters upon the main subject. He accord- ingly first analyzes man as a moral being, and from this analysis deduces the plan which he shall pursue in the work; and then, in the succeeding sections, considers the subject according to its several divisions. It is important that the pupil should keep distinctly in view^ as he proceeds, the plan and progress of the discussion. When we analyze the principles which distinguish man as a moral being, our attention is first directed to his actions, as the external phenomena by which we Nature of the precediug^ sections. To what two preliminary topics have they related ? Does the author, or not, now enter upon the main subject ? Meaning of anaZi/ze ? What deduced from the analysis? To what is th«» attention first directed in the analysis? 50 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS judge of his internal principles. It is familiar to every one, however, that the same action may proceed from very different motives, and that, when we have the means of estimating motives or principles, it is from these that we form our judgment respecting the moral condition of the individual, and not from his actions alone. When we consider separately the elements which enter into the economy of an intelligent and responsible agent, they seem to resolve themselves into the following : — I. His actual conduct, or actions. II. In determining his conduct, the immediate prin- ciple is his will, or simple volition. He wills some act, and the act follows of course, unless it be pro- vented by restraint from without, or by physical ina- bility to perform it. These alone can interfere with a man following the determination of his will, or simple volition. III. The objects of will or simple volition are refera- ble to two classes, — objects to be obtained, and ac- tions to be performed to others; and these are con- nected with two distinct mental conditions, which exist previously to the act of volition. In regard to objects to be obtained, this mental condition is Desire; in How are actions to he regarded ? Docs the same action always proceed from the same motives ? Judg^nent in respect to moral condition to he formed from what? First element to he considered. Second clement. Do the actions always ohcy the volitions? The only exception, what 7 Third element. Two classes of objects of the will? What two mental conditions correspond in i? to them? Which of these rHates to objects to b« olilainod ? Which to actions towards others? ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 51 legard to actions towards others, it is Affection. The Desires and Affections, therefore, hold a place in the mind previous to volition. From one of them origi- nates the mental state which, under certain regulations, leads to volition, or to our willing a certain act. The act, which is then the result of the volition, consists either in certain eiforts towards attaining the object desired, or in certain conduct towards other men, arising out of our affections or mental feelings towards them. The Desires and Affections, therefore, may be considered as the primary or moving powers, from which our actions proceed. In connection with them we have to keep in view another principle, which has an extensive influence on our conduct in regard to both these classes of emotions. This is Self-love; which leads us to seek our own protection, comfort, and ad- vantage. It is a sound and legitimate principle of action when kept in its proper place ; when allowed to usurp an undue influence, it degenera.tes mto sel- fishness; and It then interferes in a material degree with the exercise of the affections, or, in other words, with our duty to other men. IV. We have next to attend to the fact, that every desire is not followed by actual volition towards obtain- ing the object ; and that every affection does not lead to the conduct which misht flow from it. Thus a man Are they to be considered as previous, or subsequent to volitions ? What is meant by this? Which are to he considered the primary or moving pow- ers ? What other principle to be kept in view in connection with them ? Its nature ? When excessive what does it become ? Fourth element of inquiry. Are the Desires and Affections always effectual in leading to volition and set ion? 62 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEiXINGS. may feel a desire which, after consideration, he deter- mines not to gratify. Another may experience an affection, and not act upon it; he may feel benevo- lence or friendship, and yet act, in the particular case, with cold selfishness; or he may feel the impulse of anger, and yet conduct himself with forbearance. When, therefore, we go another step backwards in the chain of moral sequences, our attention is directed to certain ])rinciples by which the determination is actu- ally decided, either according to the desire or affection which is present to the mind, or in opposition to it. This brings us to a subject of the utmost practical im- portance : and the principles, which thus decide the determination of the mind, are referable to two heads. (1.) The determination or decision may arise out of a certain state of arrangement of the moving powers themselves, in consequence of which some one of them has acquired a predominating influence in the moral system. This usually results from habit, or frequent indulgence, as we shall see in a subsequent part of our inquiry, A man, for example, may desire an object, but perceive that the attainment would require a degree of exertion greater than he is disposed to devote to it. This is the preponderating love of ease, a branch of self-love. Another may perceive that the gratification would impair his good name, or the estimation in wliich he is anxious to stand in the eyes of othei men. This is tlie predominating love of approbation^ or regard to cliaractcr. In the same manner, a thirc Exam}5lcs, illustrative. Powt. <" «lctcrmination. First ground of dete mination mentioned ? Examples gi\v.i. Various predominating principle mentioned, which might prevent actioa. ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 63 may feel that it would interfere ^ith his schemes of avarice or ambition ; and so In regard to the other desires. On a similar principle, a man may experience a strong impulse of anger, but perceive that there would be danger in gratifying it, or that he would promote his reputation or his interest by not acting upon it; he may experience a benevolent affection, but feel that the exercise would interfere too much with his personal interest or comfort. (2.) The determination may arise from a sense of duty, or an impression of moral rectitude, apart from every consideration of a personal nature. This is the Moral Principle^ or Consciefice ; in every mind in a state of moral health, it is the supreme and regulating principle, preserving among the moving powers a cer- tain harmony, to each other, and to the principles of moral rectitude. It often excites to conduct which requires a sacrifice of self-love, and so prevents this principle from interfering with the sound exercise of the affections. It regulates the desires, and restrains them by the simple rule of purity ; it directs and regu- lates the affections in the same manner by the high sense of moral responsibility; and it thus maintains order and harmony in the whole moral system. One of the chief diversities of human character, in- deed, arises from the circumstance of one man being habitually influenced by the simple and straight-for- ward principle of duty, and another merely by a kind of contest betvreen desires and motives of a very infe- Second srround of determinatii. n Nature of Moral Principle? Its pro rince and importaace ? Its effect upon self-love ? Upon the desires ' Uie affections ? Cause of one of the chief diversities of human characler ? 5# 54 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. rior or selfish nature.* Thus also we acquire a know- ledge of the moral temperament of different me/i, and learn to adapt our measures accordingly in our trans- j actions with them. In endeavoring, for example, to excite three individuals to some act of usefulness, we come to know, that in one we have only to appeal to his sense of duty ; in another to his vanity or love of approbation ; while we have no hope of making any impression on the third, unless we can make it appear to bear upon his interest. V. The principles referred to under the precedmg heads are chiefly those which regulate the connection of man with his fellow-men. But there is another class of emotions, in their nature distinct from these ; though, in a practical point of view, they are much connected. These are the emotions which arise out of his relation to the Deity. The regulation of the moral feelings, in reference to this relation, will there- fore come to be considered in a department of the in- quiry devoted to themselves, in connection with the views of the character and attributes of God, which we obtain from the light of reason and conscience. This analysis of the principles which constitute the moral feelings indicates the farther division of our in- quiry in the following manner : — I. The Desires, — the Affections, — and Self-love. II. The Will. Modes of influencing different men ? To what connection do tne preceding; principles relate ? What other important connection does man snsiam ^ What four heads of inqjirj result from this analysis ? ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 55 ^ III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience. IV. The moral relation of man towards the Deity. These constitute what may be called the active principles of man, or those which are calculated to decide his conduct as a moral and responsible being. In connection with them, there is another class of feel- ings, which may be called passive or connecting emo- tions. They exert a considerable influence of a secon- dary kind; but, in an essay which is meant to be essentially practical, it perhaps will not be necessary to do more than enumerate them in such a manner as to point out their "relation to the active principles. When an object presents qualities on account ^f which we wish to obtain it, we feel desb^e. If we have reason to think that it is within our reach, Ave experi- ence hope ; and the effect of this is to encourage us in our exertions. If we arrive at such a conviction as leaves no doubt of the attainment, this is cotifidence^ one of the forms of that state of mind which we call faith. If we see no prospect of attaining it, we givo way to despair; and this leads us to abandon all exertion for the attainment. When we obtain the ob- ject, we experience pleasure or joy ; if we are disap- pointed, we feel regret. If, again, we have the pros- pect of some evil which threatens us, we experience /ear, and are thereby excited to exertions for averting it. If we succeed in doing so, we experience joy ; if not, we feel sorrow. If the evil seem unavoidable, we What may these principles be called? What other class of feelings'? Nature of their influence ? How far will they be treated in this work ? Name gome of these. Under what circumstances do we feel desire ? Hope ? Con- fidence? Despair? Pleasure or joy ? Regret? Fear? Joy? Sorrow? 56 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELTNCS. again giv7 way to despair^ and are thus led to relm quish all attempts to avert it. — Similar emotions at tend on the affections. When we experience an affec- y tion, we desire to be able to act upon it. When w©; see a prospect of doing so, we hope ; if there seem toJ be none, we despair of accomplishing our objects' When we have acted upon a benevolent affection, or? according to the dictates of the moral principle, wai experience self-approbation ; when the contrary, we ' feel remorse. When either a desire or an affection has acquired an imdue influence, so as to carry us forward i in a manner disproportioned to its real and proper ten- dencies, it becomes a passion. Seli-approbat;on ? What is a passion? PART L OF THE DESIRES, THE AFFECTIONS, AND SELF-LOVE. SEC. I. THE DESIRES. Desire is the immediate movement or act of the mind towards an object which presents some quahty on accomit of which we wish to obtain it. The objects of desire, therefore, embrace all those attainments and gratifications, which mankind consider worthy of be- ing songht after. The object pursued, in each particu- lar case, is determined by the views, habits, and moral dispositions of the individual. In this manner, one person may regard an object as above every other worthy of being sought after, which to another appears insignificant or worthless. The principles which regu- late these diversities, and consequently form one of the great difierences in human character, belong to a sub- sequent part of our inquiry. What is the first head according to the preceding' plan ? What is desire ** The objects of desire, what ? How is the object to be pursued deteruuned '' DifT^rent views of different minds. 5S DESIRES. [part I. In forming a classification of the desires, we must be guided simply by the nature of the various objects which are desired. Those which may be specified as the most prevalent, and the most clearly to be distin- guished as separate, may be referred to the following heads. I. The gratification of the animal propensities, com- monly called the Appetites. These, which we possess in common with the lower animals, are implanted in us for important purposes ; but they require to be kept under the most rigid control, both of reason and of the moral principle. When they are allowed to break through these restraints, and become leading principles of action, they form a character the lowest in the scale, whether intellectual or moral ; and it is impossible to contemplate a more degraded condition of a rational and moral being. The consequences to society are also of the most baneful nature. Without alluding to the glutton or to the drunkard, Avhat accumulated guilt, degradation, and wretchedness follow the course of the libertine, — blasting whatever comes within the reach of liis influence, and extending a demoralizing power alike to him who inflicts and to those who suffer the wrong. Thus is constituted a class of evils, of which no human law can take any adequate cogni- zance, and which therefore raise our views, in a special and peculiar manner, to a supreme Moral Governor. By what arc wc to be guided in classilying the desires 7 First class. Are these peculiar to njan 7 Necessity of control. Consequences oes il over have for its objects any hut human heing^s? What are some oJ ita re-jults? Its abuse leads to what ? G t>2 DESIRES. [part I. YI. The Desire of Esteem and Approbation. This IS a principle of most extensive influence, and is in many instances the source of worthy and useful dis- plays of human character. Though inferior to the high sense of moral obligation, it may yet be considered a laudable principle ; as when a man seeks the appro- bation of others by deeds of benevolence, public spirit, or patriotism, — by actions calculated to promote t!le advantage or the comfort either of commimities or indi- viduals. In the healthy exercise of it, a man desires the approbation of the good ; in the distorted use of it, he seeks merely the praise of a party, or perhaps, by deeds of a frivolous or even vicious character, aims at the applause of associates whose praise is worthless According to. the object to which it is directed, there fore, the desire of approbation may be the attribute either of a virtuous or a perverted mind. But it is a principle which, in general, we expect to find ope- rating, in every well-regulated mind, under certain restrictions. Thus a man who is totally regardless of character, that is, of the opinion of all others respecting his conduct, we commonly consider as a person lost to correct virtuous feeling. On the other hand, however, there may be instances in which it is the quality of a man of the greatest mhid to pursue some course to which, from adequate motives, he has devoted himself, regardless alike of the praise or the disapprobation of other men. The character in which the love of appro- Sixth desire, love of approlmtion. Its £j:cneral chnractcr and effecls ? hs action when in health}' exercise '? When distorted 7 Is it, or not. very general in its operation ? Character of the man who is totally regardless of the opinions of others? Case in which the disregard of the opiiuuns of others is prai.s ^worthy ? SEC. I.] ESTEEM AND APPROBATION. 63 bation is a ruling principle is therefore modified by the direction of it. To desire the approbation of the vir- tuous, lea'ds to conduct of a corresponding kind, and tc steadiness and consistency in such conduct. To seek the approbation of the vicious, leads, of course, to an opposite character. But there is a third modification, presenting a subject of some interest, in which the prevailing principle of the man is a general love of approbation, without any discrimination of the characters of those whose praise is sought, or of the value of the qualities on account of which he seeks it. This is vanity ; and it produces a conduct wavering and inconsistent, perpetually changing with the cir- cumstances m which the individual is placed. It often leads him to aim at admiration for distinctions of a very trivial character, or even for qualities which he does not really possess. It thus includes the love of flattery. Pride, on the other hand, as opposed to vani- ty, seems to consist in a man's entertaining a high opi- nion of himself, while he is indifierent to the opinion of others : thus we speak of a man who is too proud to be vain. Our regard to the opinion of others is the origin of our respect to character, in matters which do not come under the higher principle of morals ; and is of exten- sive influence in promoting the harmonies, proprieties, and decencies of society. It is thus the foundation of good breeding, and leads to kindness and accommoda- Effects of desirinn; the approbation of the virtuous ? of the vicious ? Third form of it ? Name ? Its effects ? Nature of pride ? How does it differ from vanity ? Effects of this principle upon the social habits of the community ? 64 DESIRES. [part L tion in little matters which do not belong to the class of duties. It is also the source of what we usually call decorum and propriety, which lead a man to conduct himself in a manner becoming his character and cir- cumstances, in regard to things which do not involve any higher principle. For, apart entirely from any consideration either of morality or benevolence, there is a certain line of conduct which is unbecoming in all men ; and there is conduct which is becoming in some, though it might not in other men, and in some circum- stances, though it might not be so in others. It is unnecessary to add, how much of a man's respectability in life often depends upon finding his way, with proper discrimination, through the relations of society which are amenable to this principle ; or, by how many ac- tions which are not really wrong, a man may render himself despised and ridiculous. The love of esteem and approbation is also of exten- sive influence in the ^'^oung, both in the conduct of edu- cation and the cultivation of gen^,ral character ; and it is not liable to the objections, formerly referred to, which apply to the principle of Emulation. It leads also to those numerous expedients by which persons of various character seek for themselves notoriety or a name; or desire to leave a reputation behind them, when they are no more. This is the love of posthu- mous fame, a subject which has afforded an extensive theme both for the philosoplier and the humorist. Its re.alion lo docorum '? Nature of decorum ? EfToct of want of it upon a mail's respectaliility ? Influence of lliis desire in the young? Is it jnore or less dangerous than cmuhition ? Meaning of the word poslhtimous > SEC. I.] KNOWLEDGE MORAL IMPROVEMENT. 6.5 YII. The Desire of Knowledge, or of Intellectual Acquirement, including the principle of Curiosity. The tendency of this high principle must depend, as in the former cases, on its regulation, and the objects to which it is directed. These may vary from the idle tattle of the day, to the highest attainments in literature or science. The principle may be applied to pursuits of a frivolous or useless kind, and to such acquirements as lead only to pedantry or sophism; or it mxay be directed to a desultory application, which leads to a superficial acquaintance with a variety of subjects, without a correct knowledge of any of them. On the other hand, the pursuit of knowledge may be allowed to interfere with important duties which we owe to others, in the particular situation in which we are placed. A well-regulated judgment conducts the pro- pensity to worthy objects; and directs it in such a manner as to make it most useful to others. With such due regulations, the principle ought to be carefully cultivated in the young. It is closely connected with that activity of mind which seeks for knowledge on every subject that comes within its reach, and which is ever on the watch to make its knowledge more cor- rect and more extensive. YIII. The Desire of Moral Improvement. This leads to the highest state of man; and it bears this peculiar character, that it is adapted to men in every Seventh head ? What principle is included ? Upon what does its tendency ilepend? Name some of t}\e various objects it may have. Under wlint cir- £umstances may the pursuit of knowledge be carried too far? How ^honid It be regulated ? Its effects when thus regulated. Eighth head. Its nuure and tendency. 66 DESIRES. [part I. j scale of society, and tends to diffuse a beneficial influ- t ence around the circle with which the individual is \ connected. The desire of power may exist in many, I but its gratification is limited to a few : he who fails : may become a discontented misanthrope ; and we wlio succeeds may be a scourge to his species. The desire : of superiority or of praise may be misdirected in the ; same manner, leading to insolent triumph on the one hand, and envy on the other. Even the thirst for knowledge may be abused, and many are placed in circumstances in which it cannot be gratified. But the desire of moral improvement commends itself to every class of society, and its object is attainable by all. In proportion to its intensity and its steadiness, it tends to make the possessor both a happier and a better man, and to render him the instrument of diffiising happiness , and usefulness to all who come within tlie reach of his influence. If he be in a superior station, these results will be felt more extensively: if he be in a humble sphere, they may be more limited; but their nature is the same, and their tendency is equally to elevate the character of man. This mental condition consists, as we shall afterwards have occasion to show more parti- cularly, in a habitual recognition of the supreme au- thority of conscience over the whole intellectual and moral system, and in a habitual effort to have every desire and every affection regulated by the moral prin- ciple and by a sense of the divine will. It leads to a uniformity of character which can never flow from any What is said of the desire of power compared with it ? the desire )f superiority? of knowledge ? ]\loral improvement, how extensively a*- tajnaltle? Its tendency. In what does elevated moral condition consist 2 Its eflect n])on the character ? SEC. I.] ACTION. 67 lower source^ and to a conduct distinguished by the anxious discharge of every duty, and the practice ol the most active benevolence. The Emotions which have been now briefly men- tioned seem to inchide the more important of those which pertain to the class of desires. There is, how- ever, another principle which ought to be mentioned as a leading peculiarity of human nature, though it may be somewhat difficult to determme the class to vv^hich it belongs. This is the Desire of Action, — the restless activity of mind, \Vliich leads it to require some object on which its powers must be exercised, and without which it preys upon itself and becomes miserable. On this principle we are to explain several facts which are of frequent observation. A person accustomed to a life of activity longs for ease and retirement, and, when he has accomplished his purpose, finds himself wretched. The frivolous engagements of the unoccu- pied are referable to the same principle. They arise, not from any interest which such occupations really possess, but simply from the desire of mental excite- ment, the felicity of having something to do. The pleasure of relaxation, indeed, is known to those only who have regular and interesting employment. Con- tinued relaxation soon becomes a weariness ; and, on this ground, we may safely assert, that the greatest degree of real enjoyment belongs, not to the luxurious man of wealth, or the listless votary of fashion, but to One more desire, not classed with the precediiig? Facts explained by it. From what do the frivolous employments of those unoccupied with serious business arise ? Under what circumstances alone is inaction a pleasure I Effect of continued relaxation ? What classes of society are hapi)icst 7 68 DESIRES. [part I. the middle classes o^ society, who, along with the com- forts of life, have constant and important occupation. Apart, indeed, from actual suffering, I believe there is nothing in the external circumstances of individuals, of greater or more habitual importance for promoting personal happiness, than stated, rational, and interest- j ing employment. The mental condition which we call Desire, appears to lie in a great measure at the foundation of character ; and, for a sound moral condition, it is required that the desires be directed to worthy Objects, and that the degree or strength of them be accommodated to the true and relative value of each of these objects. If the desires are thus directed, worthy conduct will be likely to follow in a steady and uniform manner. If they are allowed to break from the restraints of reason and the moral principle, the man is left at the mercy of unhal- lowed passion, and is liable to those irregularities which naturally result from such a derangement of the moral feelings. If, indeed, Ave would see the evils produced by desire, when not thus controlled, we have only to look at the whole history of human kind. AYhat accu- mulated miseries arise from the want of due regulation of the animal propensities, in the various forms in which it degrades the character of rational and moral beings. What evils spring from the love of money, and from the desire of power ; from the contests of ri- vals, and the tumults of party, what envy, hatred, ma- Relalion of the desires to tlie character? What state of the desires is ne- cessary to a sound moral condition? Consequences resultinj^ frnin uiire ■trained desires? Wliat are some of the dt-sires named hy the author, whose unrestrained action have made most misery in the world .' SEC. I.J RE->ULATION OF THE DESIRES. 69 lignity and revenge. What complicated wretchedness follows the train of ambition, — contempt of humtn suffering, countries depopulated, and fields dehiged with blood. Such are the results of desire, when not directed to objects worthy of a moral being, and not kept under the rigid control of conscience, and the im- mutable laws of moral rectitude. When, in any of these forms, a sensual or selfish propensity is allowed to pass the due boundary which is fixed for it by reason and the moral principle, the mental harmony is de- stroyed, and even the judgment itself comes to be im- paired and distorted in that highest of all inquiries, the search after moral truth. The desires, indeed, may exist in an ill-regulated state, while the conduct is yet restrained by various principles, such as submissiDn to human laws, a regard to character, or even a certain feeling of what is mo- rally right, contending with the vitiated principle with- in. But this cannot be considered as the healthy condition of a moral being. It is only when the desire itself is sound, that we can say the man is in moral health. " He who grieves at his abstinence," says Aristotle, "is a voluptuary ;" and this also is the great principle so often and so strikingly enforced in the sacred writings, ''Keep thy heart with all diligence, because out of it are the issues of life." '' Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Thus, there are desires which are folly, and there are desires which are vice, even though they should not be foi- ls ihe conduct necessarily bad when the desires are ill-regulated ? Ho\« may it be restrained ? Is this a healthy moral condition ? Requirement of .bt word of God in respect to the desires. 70 AFFECTIONS. [PART L , p lowed by indulgence ; and there are desires which tend to purify and elevate the moral nature, though their objects should be beyond the reach of our full attain- ment in the present state of being. Perfect moral purity is not the lot of man in this transient state, and is not to be attained by his own unaided efforts. But, subservient to it is that warfare within, that earnest ■, and habitual desire after the perfection of a moral be- ' ing, which is felt to be the great object of life, when it is viewed in relation to the life which is to come. For i this attainment, however, man must feel his total a inadequacy ; and the utmost efforts of human reason ^ have failed in unfolding the requisite aid. The con- ^ viction is thus forced upon us, that a higher influence is necessary ; and this influence is fully disclosed by the light of revealed truth. We are there taught to s look for a power from on high, capable of effecting - what human efforts cannot accomplish — the purifica- tion of the heart. SEC. II. , U THE AFFECTIONS. As the Desires are calculated to bring some gratfii cation to ourselves, the Affections lead us to our rela- The great oliject of life? Are our own unaided powers adequate to tf-* work ? To what sourer must we look f(ir aid .' SEC. II. J AFFECTIONS. 71 tions to other men, and to a certain line of conduct which arises out of these relations. Thus love of money, or of power, or the desire of know- ledge, and all the other desires enumerated in the preceding section, have for their object the procuring of some gratifica tion for ourselves ; it is the pleasure of the possession of the money, or the power, or the knowledge, which the mind rests upon. But the feelings of justice, benevolence, parental affec- tion, and the others brought to view in this section, are of a different nature. They are not desires seeking gratifications for ourselves, but feelings of duty to be performed towards others. Thus emulation belongs to the former class. It seeks a gratification for itself Patriotism and regard for truth appertain to the latter. They arise out of our relations to others, and urge us to certain duties towards them. These affections, or instinctive principles of duty towards others, are »ow in this section to be considered, being the second part of the first great division in the author's plan. They are to be viewed as original principles of our nature, planted in us for wise purposes, and the opera- tion of them is to be considered as distinct both from that of the moral principle and of reason ; that is, from any sense of duty or the moral rectitude of the conduct to which they lead, and from any calculation of its propriety and utility. Thus, when the mother devotes her attention by day and night to her infant, if from sickness or helplessness in want of her special care, What is the precise distinctioiv between the desires and the affections 7 Name some examples of desires ; of affections. Is emulation one of the desires, or ot the affections ? Patriotism ? Avarice ? Justice ? Distinction between desires and affections 7 How to be regarded ? From what two principles are they to be particularly distinguished ? Example given ? 72 AFFECTIONS. IPARTI. , r and perseveres in doing so, with total disregard of her own ease, health, or comfort, she is not influenced: either by a sense of duty, or by any feeUng of the uti- ! hty of her conduct : she acts upon an impulse within, ; wliich she feels to be a part of her constitution, and ;^ which carries her forward in a particular course of anxious and protracted exertion by the power of itself alone. This distinction appears to be of the utmost practical importance, and we shall have occasion to -j refer to it more particularly m the sequel. An Affection, therefore, may be considered as aniy original feeling or emotion existing in ourselves, which u^ leads us to a particular conduct towards other men, ,; without reference to any principle except the intuitive = impulse of the emotion itself. The Affections have been divided into the Benevolent and the Malevolent ; but these titles appear to be incorrect, especially the >, latter, as the due exercise of the emotions to which it refers does not properly include what is called malevo- lence. They only tend to guard us against certain conduct in other men ; and, when they are allowed to go beyond this, that is, to actual malevolence or re- venge, the application is morbid. It will therefore accord better with the nature of these emotions, to give them the names of Uniting, and Defensive Affections; j, the former including justice, benevolence, veracity, friendship, love, gratitude, patriotism, and the domestic;; affections ; the latter, jealousy, disapprobation, and I, anger. \ What is this example intended to sliow? How have the affections been: divided ? Odjection to this divii^ion. The author's division. What are in eluded under the head of Uniting aflectious ? Under Defensive affections 7 SfiC. II.] JUSTICE. 73 I. JUSTICE. There may be some difference of opinion in regard to the propriety of including Justice among the affections ; but it seems to be more nearly allied to them than to any of the other classes of moral emotions which have been mentioned, and it may, therefore, as a mere mat- ter of arrangement, be conveniently introduced here. Strictly speaking, it might perhaps be considered as a combined operation of an affection and the moral prin- ciple; but this is matter of speculation alone. The important consideration relating to it is, that, in what- ever manner it arises, the sense of Justice is a primary •md essential part of our moral constitution, conveying the distinct impression of certain conduct which a man owes to his fellow-men, without regard to any consi- derations of a personal nature, and apart from all posi- tive enactments or laws, either divine or human. The requirements of Justice embrace certain points in which every man has an absolute right, and in regard to which it is the absolute duty of every other man not to interfere with him. These rights have usually been divided into three classes ; — what I have a right to pos- sess, and no man has any right to take from me, — what I have a right to do, and no man has any title to pre- vent me from doing, — what I have a right to expect from other men, and it is their absolute duty to perform. These principles form the basis of what is called Na- Question in respect to Justice ? How might it, strictly speaking, be consi- aered? Nature of the sense of Justice ? Its influenc;? Into how manv classes are the claims of justice to be divided ? 7 74 AFFECTIONS. [PART 11 taral Jurisprudence, a code of relative duty deriving it^ authority from impressions which are found in thi moral feelings of all mankind, without regard to thll enactments of any particular civil society. In thil actual arrangements of civil communities, these greaa principles of jus^ce are combined with others whicl are derived meiely from utility or expediency, as cal^' culated to promote the peace or the advantage of thtp community. These may differ in different countries'; and they ce ise to be binding when the enactments oi which the/ rest are abrogated or changed. But nc. difference of place can alter, and no laws can destroy r the esseiitial requirements of justice. In tl ese observations, it will be remarked, the wore Justice is used as expressing a principle of individua/i character; and it is in this sense that it is to be pro-i perly classed with the affections. The term is em- ployed in another sense, namely, that of distributive and corrective justice, which regulates the claims of individuals in a commimity, requires restitution* or compensation for any deviation from such claims,'i or punishes those who have violated them. It is in- the former sense that justice is properly to be con-: sidered as a branch of the philosophy of the moral | feelings; but the same general principles apply tod both. / The sense of Justice, therefore, consists in a feeling j experienced by every man, of a certain line of conducti ,.-1 Name tjivcn to the system arising from these principles? With what' combined in the actual arrangements of society? Diflerence between thet essential principles of justice, and mere human enactments, in respect to their permanency. Two senses in which the term Justice is used. In 5 which employed here? The sense of Justice consists in what? 1 SEC. II.J JUSTICE. 75 i which he owes to other men, in given circumstances ; if and this seems to be referable to the following \ heads : attending to their interest ; not interfering with j their freedom of action ; preserving their reputation ; li estimating their character and motives; judging of t their opinions ; consulting their feelings ; and preserv- ■ ing or improving their moral condition. As a guide for his conduct in particular instances, a man has usu- ally a distinct impression of what he thinks due by other men towards himself; justice requires that he rigidly extend to others the same feelings and conduct which, in similar circumstances, he expects from them. (1.) Justice is due to the persons, property, and interest of others. This constitutes integrity or ho- nesty. It, of course, implies abstaining from every kind of injury, and preserving a conscientious regard to their rights. In this last respect, it allows us to exercise a prudent attention to our own interest, pro- vided the means be fair and honorable, and that we carefully abstain from injuring others by the measures we employ for this purpose. The great rule for our guidance, m all such cases, is found in the immutable principles of moral rectitude ; the test of our conduct m regard to individual instances is, that it be such as, weie our o"\vn interest concerned, we should think fair and honorable in other men. (2.) Justice requires us not to interfere with the freedom of action of others. This constitutes personal To what heads referable. The golden rule. First requirement of justice 7 Name? Duties arising from it. Second requirement. 76 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. liberty : but in all civil communities the right is liable to certain restrictions ; as when a man uses his freedom of action to the danger or injury of other men. The principles of justice may also recognise a man's surren- dering, to a certain extent, his personal liberty, by mutual and voluntary compact, as in the case of ser- vants, apprentices, soldiers, &c. ; but they are opposed to slavery, in which the individual concerned is not a party to the arrangement. (3.) Justice enjoins a regard to the reputation of others. This consists in avoiding every thing that could be injurious to their good name, either by direct evil speaking, or such insinuations as might give rise to suspicion or prejudice against them. It must extend also to the counteracting of such insinuations, when we hear them made by others, especially in circum- stances in which the individual injured has no oppor- tunity of defending himself It includes, farther, that we do not deny to others, even to rivals, any praise or credit which is justly due to them. There is, however, one modification, equally consistent with justice, to which the former of these rules is liable ; namely, that, m certain cases, we may be required to make a state- ment prejudicial to an individual, when duty to a third party or to the public makes it incumbent on us to do so. In such a case, a person guided by the rules of justice will go no farther than is actually required by the circumstances; and will at all times beware of Exceptions. Can a man justly surrender his own liberty? Slavery Requirements of justice in respect to the reputation of others. What do they include ? In what cases is censure of others allowable ? Cautiwn ui refereuM to this. SEC. II.] JUSTICE. 77 propagating a report injurious to another, though he should know it to be strictly true, unless he is called upon by special duty to communicate it. (4.) Justice requires us not only to avoid injuring an individual in the estimation of other men, but to exercise the same fairness in forming our own opinion of his character, without being misled or biassed by passion or prejudice. This consists in estimating his conduct and motives with calmness and impartiality ; in regard to particular instances, making full allowance for the circumstances in which he was placed, and the feelings by which he was, or might be, at the time, naturally influenced. When an action admits of being referred to different motives, justice consists in taking the more favorable view, if we can do so with strict regard to truth, instead of harshly and hastily assign- ing a motive which is unworthy. Such justice in re- gard to character and motives we require to exercise with peculiar care, when the conduct referred to has been in any way opposed to our owti self-love. In these cases we must be especially on our guard against the influence of the selfish principle, which might lead to partial and distorted views of actions and motives, less favorable to others, and more favorable to our- selves, than justice warrants. When viewed in this manner, we may often perceive, that conduct, which gave rise to emotions of displeasure as injurious to us, was fully warranted by some conduct on our own Is it always right to propagate injurious reports that are true? Claims of justice in respect to our own opinions of others. How should these Bpinions be formed ? Actions referable to difFerent motives ? ; 7* 78 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. part, or was required by some higher duty which the individual owed to another. (5.) Justice is to be exercised in judging of t?ie opinions and statements of others. This constitutes candor. It consists in giving a fair and deliberate hearing to their opinions, statements, and arguments, and weighing fairly and honestly their tendency. It is, therefore, opposed to prejudice, blind attachment to preconceived opinions, and that narrow, disputatious spirit which delights in captious criticism, and will hear nothing with calmness that is opposed to its own views ; which distorts or misrepresents the sentiments of its opponents, ascribing them to unworthy motives, or deducing from them conclusions which they do not warrant. Candor, accordingly, may be considered as a compound of justice and the love of truth. It leads us to give due attention to the opinions and statements of others, in all cases to be chiefly solicitous to dis- cover truth, and, in statements of a mixed character, containing perhaps much error and fallacy, anxiously to discover and separate what is true. It has accord- ingly been remarked, that a turn for acute disputation, and minute and rigid criticism, is often the character- istic of a contracted and prejudiced mind ; and that the most enlarged understandings are always the most indulgent to the statements of others, — their leading object being to discover truth. Cases in which we are in peculiar danger of misjudging. Candor, what ? To what is it opposed ? Nature of projiuHce ? From what two elements does candor result ? Its influence? What does a turn for disputation and minute criticism indicate ? Eflect of an enlarged and liberal mind iu resptct to tiie statements and opinions of others ? SEC. n.] JUSTICE. 79 (6.) Justice is due to the feelings of others; and this applies to many circumstances which do not affect either their interest or their reputation. Wivhout in- juring them in any of these respects, or in our own good opinion, we may behave to them in such a man- ner as to wound tlieir feelings. There are minds of an extreme delicacy, which, in this respect, are peculiarly sensitive; towards these a person of correct feelings strives to conduct himself with suitable tenderness. We may find, however, persons of honest and upright minds, who would shrink from the least approach to real injury, but yet neglect the necessary attention to the feelings ; and may even confer a real benefit in such a manner as to wound the individual to whom they intended kindness. The lower degrees of this principle pertain to what is called mere good breeding, which has been defined '' benevolence in trifles ;" but the higher degrees may restrain from conduct which, without any real injury, inflicts permanent pain. To this head we may perhaps also refer a due regard to the estimate which we lead a man to form of himself. This is opposed to flattery on the one hand, and on the other to any unnecessary depreciation of his cha- racter. Flattery indeed is also to be considered as a violation of veracity. (7.) While, upon the principles which have been referred to, we abstain from injuring the interests, the Sixth claim of justice ? Can the feelings be injured without wounding the interest or the reputation ? Duties towards persons peculiarly sensitive ? Are these duties often or seldom neglected ? Good breeding ; how has u ^en sometimes defined ? 80 AFFECTIONS. [/»ART I. reputation, or the feelings of others, there is another class of injuries, of still higher magnitude, which the conscientious mind will avoid with peculiar anxiety, namely, injuries done to the moral principles of other men. These form a class of offences of which no hu- man law takes any adequate cognizance ; but we know that they possess a character of the deepest malignity. Deep guilt attaches to the man who, by persuasion or ridicule, has unhinged the moral feelings of another, or has been the means of leading him astray from the paths of virtue. Of equal, or even greater malignity, is the aspect of the writer, whose ^ works have contributed to violate the principles oJ truth and rectitude, to pollute the imagination, o! corrupt the heart. Inferior offenders are promptly seized by public authority, and suffer the award of public justice ; but the destroyer of the moral bein-, often walks securely through his own scene of moral discipline, as if no power could reach the measure of his guilt but the hand of the Eternal. To the same head we are to assign the extensive and important influence of example. There are fcAV men who have not in this respect some power, but it belongs more particularly to persons in situations of rank and public eminence. It is matter of deep regret, both to the friend of virtue and the friend of his coun- try, when any of these are found manifesting disregard to sacred things, or giving an air of fashion to what is calculated to corrupt the moral principles of the un- Higher class of injuries spoken of under iho seventh head. Their cha- racter? Does the law take cognizance of them ? Different modes by which aijury to the morals of others is done. Example. SEC. II.] COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 81 thinking classes of society. If they are restrained by no higher motive, the feehngs of patriotism, and even of personal safety, ought to produce a solemn caution ; and it becomes them seriously to consider, whether they may not thus be sowing among the ignorant mul- titude the seeds. of tumult, revolution, and anarchy. n. COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. Great diversity exists in the condition of different individuals in the present state, some being in cir- cumstances of ease, wealth, and comfort, others of pain, deprivation, and sorrow. Such diversities we must consider as an arrangement established by the great disposer of all things, and calculated to promote important purposes in his moral government. Many of these purposes are entirely beyond the reach of our faculties; but, as holding a prominent place among them, we may safely reckon the cultivation of our moral feelings, especially the affections of compassion and benevolence. The due exercise of these is, there- fore, calculated to promote a double object, namely, the alleviation of distress in others, and the cultiva- tion in ourselves of a mental condition peculiarly adapted to a state of moral discipline. By bringing us into contact with individuals in various forms and degrees of suffering, they tend continually to remind us, that the present scene is but the infancy of our — t ' ' Effects of bad example ? Second class of affections ? Diversity in the condition of men. Cause and design of this diversity ? Importai: ce of cul tivalmg the benevolent feelings. Double object in this 82 AFFECTIONS. [PART I existence, — that the beings Avhom we thns contemplate are the children of the same Almighty Father with ourselves, inheriting the same nature, possessed of the same feelings, and soon to enter upon another state of existence, when all the distinctions which are to be found in this world shall cease forever. They tend thus to withdraw us from the power of self-love, and the deluding influence of present things ; and habitu- ally to raise our views to that future life, for which the present is intended to prepare us. The due culti- vation of the benevolent aflections, therefore, is not properly to be considered as a source of moral appro- bation, but rather as a process of moral culture. They may enable us in some degree to benefit others, but their chief benefit is to ourselves. By neglecting them, we both incur much guilt, and deprive ourselves of an important means of improvement. The diligent exer- cise of them, besides being a source of moral advan- tage, is accompanied with a degree of mental enjoy- ment which carries with it its own reward. Such appears to be the correct view which we ought to take of the arrangement established by the Creator in this part of our constitution. It is calculated to correct a misconception of an important kind, which considers the exercise of the benevolent affections as possessing a character of merit. To this subject we shall have occasion to refer more particularly in the sequel. The exercise of the benevolent affections may be briefly treated of, under nearl}^ the same heads as those Truths of which the exercise of them reminds us? Tendency of benevc#onr efforts upon our own characters ? How is the cultivation of the benevolent affections to he considered ? Comparative benefit to ourselves and others'? The reward ? Important misconception. SEC. II.] COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 83 referred to when considering the principle of justice ; keeping in mind that they lead to greater exertion for the benefit of others, and thus often demand a greater sacrifice of self-love, than is included under the mere requirements of justice. On the other hand, benevo- lence is not to be exercised at the expense of justice ; as would be the case, if a man were found relieving distress by such expedients as involve tiie necessity of withholding the payment of just debts, or imply the neglect or infringement of some duty which he owes to another. (1.) Compassion and benevolent exertion are due towards alleviating the distresses of others. This ex- ercise of them, in many instances, calls for a decided sacrifice of personal interest, and, in others, for consi- derable personal exertion. We feel our way to the proper measure of these sacrifices, by the high principle of moral duty, along with that mental exercise which places us in the situation of others, and, by a kind of reflected self-love, judges of the conduct due by us to them in our respective circumstances. — The details of this subject would lead us into a field too extensive for our present purpose. Pecuniary aid, by those who have the means, is the most easy form in which bene- volence can be gratified, and that which often requires the least, if any, sacrifice of personal comfort or self- love. The same affection may be exercised in a de- gree much higher in itself, and often much more useful Heads under which the exercise of the benevolent afiections may be treated ? Efforts of benevolence and of justice compared ? W^hich superioj when they interfere. Example. First class of objects of benevolent effor: ■Pecuniary aid ? 84 AFFECTIONS. [PART Lie to Others, by personal exertion and personal kindness. The former, compared Avith the means of the indivi- dual, may present a mere mockery of mercy; while d the latter, even in the lowest walks of life, often exhi- ■ bit the brightest displays of active usefulness that can adorn the human character. This high and pure benevolence not only is dispensed with willingness, Avhen occasion^ present themselves ; but seeks out op- portunities for itself, and feels in want of its natural and healthy exercise when deprived of an object on which it may be bestowed. (2.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the reputation of others. This consists not only in avoid- ing any injury to their characters, but in exertions . to protect them against the injustice of others, — to correct misrepresentations, to check the course of slander, and to obviate the efforts of those who would poison the confidence of friends, or disturb the harmony of society. (3.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the character and conduct of others ; especially when these have been in opposition to our personal interest or self-love. This consists in viewing their conduct with indulgence and forbearance, assigning the most favor- able motives, and making every allowance for their fechngs, and the circumstances in whicli they were placed. It leads us also to avoid all suspicions and Comparative value of pecuniary aid and personal exertion? Chararter of the higher and purer degrees of benevolence. Second object of benevDlenl effort ■? In what does it consist ? Third object? In what does it consist' Assignment of motives. 1 SEC. II.] COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 85 jealousies which are not clearly justified by fact ; and to abstain to the utmost from taking offence, by put- tnig upon the conduct of others the best construction of which it will possibly admit. It extends still farther to the actual forgiveness of injuries, and the repaying of evil with good,— a conduct represented in the sacred writings as one of the highest attainments the human character can reach, in so far as regards its relation to other men. (4.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the feelings of others ; and this applies to many situations in which neither their interest nor their character is concerned. It includes those exercises of the kindly affections which produce so powerful an influence in all the relations of life, but which it is impossible for any description to delineate. It comprehends all our social and civil connections, but seems peculiarly to belong to our intercourse with inferiors and dependents. Its most anxious exercise may often relate merely to trifles, but it extends to innumerable circumstances in which we may surrender our OAvn feelings to those of others, and our own convenience or gratification to theirs. It implies solicitude to avoid wounding the feelings by pride, selfishness, or fretfulness, by sus- picions, imputations, and jealousies, or by allowing insignificant things to ruffle the temper and derange the social comfort. Many, who are not deficient in what we usually call deeds of benevolence, are too Suspicions? Forgiveness of injuries. How is forgiveness spoken o! in Ihe Scriptures ? Fourth object. What included in regard for the feelings of others ? To what relation does ihis peculiarly apply '? Trifles 1 8 8b AFFECTIONS [PART I. apt to forget, that a most important exercise of true benevolence consists in the habitual cultivation of cour- tesy, gentleness, and kindness ; and that on these dis- positions often depends our influence upon the comfort and happiness of others, in a greater degree than on any deeds of actual beneficence. — To this department, also, we may refer the high character of the peace- maker, whose delight it is to allay angry feelings, even when he is in no degree personally interested, and to bring together as friends and brethren those who have assumed the attitude of hatred and revenge. (5.) Benevolence is to be exercised in regard to the moral degradation of others, including their ignorance and vice. This prevents us from deriving satisfaction from moral evil, even though it should contribute to our advantage, as might often happen from the miscon- duct of rivals or enemies. It implies also that highest species of usefulness which aims at raising the moral condition of man, by mstructing the ignorant, rescu- ing the unwary, and reclaiming the vicious. This exalted benevolence will therefore also seek to extend the light of divine truth to nations that sit in moral darkness; and looks anxiously for the period when the knowledge of Christianity shall dispel every false faith, and put an end to the horrors of superstition. Common ways of wounding the feelings of others ? The peace-maker; his influence. Fifth object. What does it forbid ? What does it require ? Duty in respect to heathen nations. SEC. II. I VERACITY. S7 III. VERACITY. In our own mental impressions relating to veracity, we have a striking illustration of the manner in which we rely on this class of moral feelings, as instinctive in the constitution of the mind. On a certain confidence in the veracity of mankind is founded so much of the knowledge on v/hich we constantly depend, that, without it, the whole system of human things would go into confusion. It relates to all the intelligence which we derive from any other source than our own personal observation: — for example, to all that we receive through the historian, the traveller, the natu- ralist, or the astronomer. Even in regard to the most common events of a single day, we often proceed on a confidence in the veracity of a great variety of indivi- duals. There is, indeed, a natural tendency to truth in all men, unless when this principle is overcome by some strong selfish purpose, to be answered by depart- ing from it ; and there is an equally strong tendency to rely on the veracity of others, until we have learnt certain cautions by our actual experience of mankind. Hence children and inexperienced persons are easily imposed upon by unfounded statements ; and the most practised liar confides in the credulity of those whom he attempts to deceive. Deception, indeed, would never accomplish its purpose, if it were not from the impression that men generally speak truth. Is our confidence in the veracity of mankind natural or acquired ? What portion of our knowledge rests on this basis? Proof that our confidence io the veracity of mankind is instinctive not acquired. What gives deceptiua Its power to accomplish its purpose ? 88 AFFECTIONS. [PART I It is obvious also, that the mutual confidence which men have in each other, both in regard to veracity of statement, and to sincerity of intention respecting en- gagements, is that which keeps together the whole of civil society. In the transactions of commerce it is indispensable, and without it all the relations of civil life would go into disorder. When treating of the in- tellectual powers in another work, I considered the principles which regulate our confidence in human testimony ; and it is unnecessary to recur to them in this place. Our present object is briefly to analyze the elements which are essential to veracity, when we view it as a moral emotion, or a branch of individual cha- racter. These appear to be three, — correctness in ascertaining facts, accuracy in relating them, and truth of purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of pro- mises. (1.) An important element of veracity is correctness in ascertaining facts. This is essential to the love of truth. It requires us to exercise the most anxious care respecting every statement which we receive as true ; and not to receive it as such, until we are satis- fied that the authority on which it is asserted is of a nature on which we can fully rely, and that the state- ment contains all the facts to which our attention ought to be directed. It consecpiently guards us against those limited views, by which party spirit or a love of favorite dogmas leads a man to receive tlie What cflects would follow from entire want of confidence between man and man? How many elements essential to veracity? What are they** First element 1 What does it require ? Limited views, how occasioned ? SEC. II.] VERACITY. 89 facts which favor a particular ophiion, and neglect those which are opposed to it. The sound exercise of judgment, which is connected with this love of truth, differs therefore from the art of ingenious disputation, and is often found directly at variance with it. The same principle is applicable to the truths which are derived as deductions from processes of reasoning. It is thus opposed to all sophistical arguments, and par- tial or distorted reasonings, by which disputants strive to establish particular systems, instead of engaging in an honest and simple inquiry after truth. The love of truth, therefore, is of equal importance in the recep- tion of facts, and in the formation of opinions ; and it includes also a readiness to relinquish our own opin- ions, when new facts or arguments are presented to us which are calculated to overturn them. The practice of this sincere and candid search after truth, on every subject to which the mind may be directed, ought to be cultivated in early life with the most assiduous care. It is a habit of the mind which must exercise a must important influence in the culture both of moral and intellectual character. In the reception of truth, especially on the evidence of testimony, we acquire by experience a degree of caution, arising from having been sometimes deceived. In minds of a certain description, this may be allowed to produce a suspicion with regard to all evidence, — in other words, scepticism. The Avant of the necessary and proper caution, again, leads to credidlty. It is Are the most ingenious disputants always most successful in discoverin:! truth? Importance of the love of truth. When is it peculiarly important that it should be cultivated? Caution, how acquired? Vhen excess ve what is it called ? What is the opposite of scepticism ? 8# 90 AFFECTIONS. [PART i. the pait of a well-regulated mind to avoid both these extremes, by attentively weighing the evidence and character of the witnesses, and giving to each circum- stance its due influence in the conclusion. (2.) Closely connected with the love of truth m re- ceiving, is the exercise of veracity in the statement of facts, whether derived from our personal observa- tion, or received by testimony from others. It consists not only in the most scrupulous accuracy of relation, but also in giving it in such a manner as to convey a correct impression to the hearer. It is consequently opposed to all those methods by which either a false statement may be made to assume the appearance of truth, or one essentially true may be so related as to convey a false impression. Direct fallacy may consist in the alleged facts being absolutely false, or in some of them being so, in facts being wanting or kept out of view which would give a diflerent import to the whole statement, or in some of the facts being disguised, distorted, or colored, so as to alter materially tlie impression conveyed by them. But, besides such actual fallacy, there are various me- thods by which a statement literally true may be so related as to convey an erroneous impression. Facts may be connected together in such a manner as to give the appearance of a relation of cause and eflect, when they are in truth entirely unconnected; or an event may be represented as common which has oc- Which of these extremes is most common among: the young ? Second element of veracity .' Its nature. To what is it opposed ? Different species of fallacy. Can a statement be literally trie and vet convey a fidse impres- sion? SEC. n.J VERACITY. 91 curred only in one or two instances. The character of an individual may be assumed from a single act, which, if the truth were known, might be seen to be opposed to his real disposition, and accounted for by the circumstances in which he happened at the time to be placed. Events may be connected together, which were entirely disjoined, and conclusions deduced from this fictitious connection, which are of course unfound- ed. Several of these sources of fallacy may be illus- trated by a ludicrous example. — A traveller from the continent has represented the venality of the British house of commons to be such, that, whenever the minister of the crown enters the house, there is a general cry for " places." It may be true that a cry of "places" has gone round the house at certain times, when business was about to commxCnce, or to be resiuned after an interval, meaning, of course, that members were to take their seats. It is very probable, that, on some occasion, this may have occurred at the moment when the minister entered ; so that the state- ment of the traveller might, in point of fact, be strictly true. The erroneous impression which he endeavors to convey by it, arises from three sources of fallacy, which the anecdote will serve to illustrate, namely,— the false meaning he gives to the word employed, connecting it with the entrance of the minister as cause and effect, and representing the connection as uniform which happened to occur in that particular instance. In the same manner it will appear, that a false impression may be conveyed respectmg the con- In yhat ways ? Example illustrating this. Relate the anecdote. Tlie explanation of it. Was the account of the traveller literally true or false 1 •J2 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. 3 duct of an individual, by assigning motives which are i entirely imaginary, by connecting tilings together tl which have no relation, by keeping out of view cir- cumstances which would afford an explanation or f palliation of his conduct, or by attaching to his words a different meaning from that which he intended to convey by them. The common saying, that there are two ways of telling a story, does not therefore refer to what is strictly to be called fabrication or falsehood; but to those distortions or colorings of circumstances,, which, however slight in themselves, have the effect 13 of essentially changing the impression made by the)] whole. To veracity, under this department, we are also to refer the rule, of giving to others an honest and fair impression of our views, motives, and intentions. This is sincerity. It is opposed to hypocrisy, that unworthy display of human character, in which a man disguises his real sentiments, and, on the con- trary, professes principles which he neither feels nor values, merely for the purpose of promoting his selfish interests. Such a character exhibits a singular com- bination of moral delinquencies. It is founded on the lowest selfishness, and includes a departure from vera- city and honesty. But, besides, it implies a know- ledge of virtuous principles and of their proper ten- dencies, while there is a practical denial of their influ- ence. Sincerity is also opposed to flattery, which \ tends to give a man a false impression of our opinion, If intended to be received seriously would it have lieen morally true or false? Common proverb. To what does it refer ? What is suicerity ? To what trait of character is it opi)osed ? Nature of hypocrisy. V^onsiticr.iti »ns which aggravate its guilt. Flattery. SEC. TI.] FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND GRATITUDE. 93 and of our feelings towards him, and likewise leads him to fornri a false estimate of his own character. It is opposed also to simulation or double-dealing, by which a man, for certain purposes, professes senti- ments towards another which he does not feel, or in- tentions which he does not entertain. (3.) The third element of veracity is truth of pur- pose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of promises. This is. opposed to actual departure from what was distinctly promised ; likewise to all those evasions by which one ma^y convey an impression, or excite the hope, of an intention which he does not mean to fulfil, or avoid the performance of a real or implied engagement on any other ground than inability to perform it. By this straight-forward integrity of purpose, an indivi- dual gives a clear impression of what he honestly in- tends to perform; and performs it, though circum- stances may have occurred to make the fulfilment dis- agreeable or even injurious to himself: — '^ he sweareth to his own hurt," says a sacred writer, '' and changeth not." IV. FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND GRATITUDE. These affections are so nearly allied, that, in this slight analysis, they may be taken together. They consist in a personal and peculiar attachment to an Its nature and effects ? Simulation, what ? Third element of veracity ? Indirect ways of avoiding the fulfilment flf engagements ? Passage of Scripture relating to this subject. What three affections are classed together uader the next head ? 94 AFFECTIONS. [PARTI,.f individual, founded either upon some qualities in him- self, or some benefits he has conferred on us, or on i some one in whom we are interested. The feelings ;' and conduct to which they give rise correspond with those leferred to under the preceding affections, with this difference, that, in many instances, they lead to ai, much greater sacrifice of personal interest and com--, fort, than usually proceeds either from justice or sim- [ pie benevolence. Tlie exertions arising out of themii are directed, according to the division formerly given,.; to promoting the interest or comfort of the object of : our regard, preserving, defending, or advancing..his^ reputation, treating his feelings with peculiar tender- , ness, and his failings with peculiar indulgence, re-- ceivinghis opinions with peculiar favor, and anxiously, endeavoring to improve his intellectual and moral con- -, dition. This last consideration is justly reckoned the c highest office of friendship : — it is to be regretted thatt^ its operation is sometimes impeded by another feeling, .; which leads us to be blind to the failings and deficien- -| cies of those whom we love. In exercising simple , love and friendship, we rejoice in the advantage and' happiness of the object, though they should be accom- | plished by others ; but, in exercising gratitude, we are ^ not satisfied unless they be effected in some measure \ by ourselves. Are they precisely identical ? Difference between these affections and 1 the preceding. Various modes in which they operate. The highest office ; of friendship, what? Difference noticed between friendship and gratitude 7 ' SEC. n.] PATRIOTISM. 95 V. — PATRIOTISM. Patriotism is, perhaps, not properly to be considered as a distinct principle of our nature ; but rather as a result of a combination of the other affections. It leads us, by every means in our power, to promote the peace and the prosperity of our country, and to dis- courage, to the utmost of our ability, whatever tends to the contrary. Every member of the community has something in his power in this respect. He may set an example, in his own person, of dutiful and loyal respect to the first authority, of strict obedience to the laws, and respectful submission to the institutions of his country. He may oppose the attempts of factious individuals to sow among the ignorant the seeds of discontent, tumult, or discord. He may oppose and repress attempts to injure the revenue of the state; may aid in the preservation of public tranquillity, and in the execution of public justice. Finally, he may zealously exert himself in increasing the knowledge and improving the moral habits of the people, — two of the most important means by which the conscientious man, in any rank of life, may aid in conferring a high and permanent benefit on his country. Fifth class of affections. Nature of patriotism? Its effects? Vaiiou« ways in which ever 'ndividual may uromote the welfare of his country. ^ THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. [PART L .? n. THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. In this extensive and interesting class are included, ^ conjugal affection, the parental feelings, filial reve- rence, and the ties of brothers and sisters. These call forth, in a still higher degree, the feelings and exer--f tions already referred to, and a still greater sacrifice \ of personal ease, advantage and comfort, in the anxious \ and diligent discharge of the duties resulting from <; them. In the conjugal relation, they lead us to the^j' tenderness, the confidence, the mutual forbearance, f the united exertions of those, who have one hope, one^^ interest, and one course of duty. The parental rela-- tion implies the highest possible degree of that feeling r which studies the advantage of the object of our care, /, the promotion of his happiness, the improvement of his mind, the culture of his affections, the formation \ of his habits ; the anxious watching over the deve*'-" lopment of his character, both as an intellectual and a moral being. The filial relation requires, in an equal degree, respect, affection, submission, and confidence ; a deference to parental opinion and control ; and ail impression that those parts of parental management, ,' which may often be disagreeable, are guided by Hi sincere desire to promote the highest interests of the 3 object of this affectionate regard. Among the feelings of our nature " which have less ? of earth in them than heaven," are those which bind i Sixth class of affections. What are included in the domestic affecti^wial ^ What is said of the duties of the conjugal relation ? of the parental ',^ of the filial? SEC. II.] THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. 97 together the domestic circle in the various sympathies, affections and duties, which belong to this class of tender relations. It is beautiful also to observe, how these affections arise out of each other, and how the right exercise of them tends to their mutual cultivation. The father ought to consider the son as, of all earthly concerns, the highest object of his anxious care ; and should watch over the development of his intellectual character, and the culture of his moral feelings. In the zealous prosecution of this great purpose, he should study to convey a clear impression, that he is influ- enced purely by a feeling of solemn responsibility, and an anxious desire to promote the highest interests. When parental watchfulness -is thus mingled with confidence and kindness, the son will naturally learn ♦o estimate alike the conduct itself, and the principles from which it sprung, and will look to the faithful parent as his safest guide and counsellor, and most valued earthly friend. If we extend the same princi- ples to the relation between the mother and the daugh- ter, they apply with equal or even greater force. In the arrangements of society, these are thrown more constantly into each other's company ; and that watchful superintendence ma\^ be still more habitually exercised, which, along with the great concern of cul- tivating the intellectual and moral being, neglects not those graces and delicacies which belong peculiarly to the female character. It is not by direct instruction alone, that, in such a domestic circle, the highest prin- Remarks upon the domestic affections p;enerally, Dutj^ of a father ? Tha nother and daughter. Nature of their connection. Is direct instruction tha nly means of doing: good in the domestic circle ? 9 98 THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. [PART I. ciples and best feelings of our nature are cultivated ir the minds of the young. It is by the actual exhibition j of the principles themselves, and a uniform recognition [ of their supreme importance ; it is by a parental con- duct, steadily manifesting the conviction, that, with i every proper attention to the acquirements, the accom- plishments, and the comforts of life, the chief concern ' of moral beings relates to the life which is to come. A domestic society, bound together by these principles, can retire, as it were, from the haunts of men, and l? retreat within a sanctuary where the storms of the i world cannot enter. When thus met together in the •; interchange of mutual affection and mutual confidence, they present the anticipation of that period, when, after the tumults of life are over, they shall meet again, ' ''no wanderer lost, a family in heaven." THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. The feelings of jealousy, anger, and resentment, are, not less than the other affections, to be considered as : part of our moral constitution ; and th^y are calculated i^ to answer important purposes, provided they are kept i under tbe strict control of reason and the moral prin- • ciple. Their proper object is primarily a sense of bla- • mable conduct in others ; and they lead us to use ;< •proper measures for protecting ourselves against such i' conduct. While we thus disapprove of the character ' and conduct of men in certain circumstances, we are i What other means are more powerful ? What included under the defe& fcsTP nrt'ri'tioiis ? Their dosifrn niid tendency ? WC. II.] THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. 99 led, by our feelings of justice and benevolence, to take part with the injured and oppressed against the op- pressors, or to protect those who are threatened with injuries, by measures for defeating the scheme-* of their enemies. A still more refined exercise of Jiis class of feelings leads us to seek the reformation of the offender, and to convert him from an enemy into a friend. Resentment, in cases which concern the publio peace, naturally leads to the infliction of punishment- the object of which is to prevent similar conduct in others, not to gratily personal vengeance. Hence it is required to be done in a public manner, with proper deliberation and coolness, and with an exact adapta- tion of the penalty to the offence, and to the object to be attained. The person injured is not likely to do this with the requisite impartiality and candor ; for we are apt to feel too deeply injuries offered to ourselves, and not to make the proper allowance for the feelings of others, and the circumstances which led to the offence. The higher degrees, indeed, of these tendencies usually go together, — they, who are most susceptible of oflences, and most irritable under them, being generally least inclined to make allowances for others. Hence, in all cases, our disapprobation of persr al vengeance, or of a man taking the law into his own hands ; and our perfect sympathy with the protectors of the public peace, when they dispassionately investigate a case of injury, and calmly adapt their measures to the real Their effects in reference to the oppressed? Punishment; its object'.' How must it be inflicted to answer these purposes ? Why ought injuries to \3c punished by the state rather than by the particular person injured ? 100 /VFFECTIONS. [PAtlT I. object to be attained by them, the protection of the community. The defensive affections are exercised in. an unwar- ranted manner, when they are allowed to be excited by trifling causes; when they are, in degree, dispropor- tioned to the offence, or prolonged in a manner which it did not require ; and when they lead, in any mea- sure, to retaliation or revenge. The sound exercise of them, therefore, is opposed to that irascibility which takes fire on trivial occasions, or without due conside- ration of the intentions of the agent, or the circum- stances in which he was placed ; to a disposition to ■ resentment on occasions which do not warrant it ; and, on all occasions, to harboring the feeling after the offence and all its consequences have passed over. Before concluding the subject of the affections, there are three points respecting them which remain to be mentioned as briefly as possible, — the influence of atten- tion, combined with a certain act of imagination, the influence of habit, and the estimate of the feeling of moral approbation which the exercise of the affections is calculated to produce. I. In every exercise of the aflfections, a most impoi- tant influence is produced by attention, aided by a certain act of imagination. This consists in directing Unwarrantable exercise of the dcfeasive affections. Three points sug- gfisted in respect to the afU'ctions. FIX'. II ] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 101 the mind intensely and habitually to all the considera- tions which ought to guide us in the particular relation to which the affection refers. It leads us to place our- selves in the situation of others, and, with a kind of personal, or almost selfish interest, to enter into their wants, their anxieties and their feelings ; and thus, in their place, to judge of the emotions and the conduct which are due from us to them. Such is the exercise of one who wishes to follow the great rule of doing to others as he would that they should do to him. He is not satisfied with the merely decent discharge of the duties which arise from the affections, but studies in- tensely the requirements which attach to his particular situation, searches out the individuals towards whom they ought to be exercised, and enters into their con- dition and their feelings with minute and tender inte- rest, ^lany who show no want of friendly and bene- volent affection, when an individual case is strongly brought before them, are deficient in the kind of exer- cise which would lead them, in this manner, to find their way to that correct exercise of the affections which really belongs to a scene of moral discipline. Such an exercise is adapted to every situation in life, and tends to guard a man, in his various relations, against the hindrances which indolence, self-love, and pure inattention are apt to bring in the way of his peculiar duties, and of his discharsfinof them with due resjard to the feelings of others. This mental exercise, of extensive application to the How does the exercise of the attention operate in influencing the affec- tions ? Obeying the golden rule ; what required by it ? Necessity of active ^ort and sympathy. 102 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. benevolent affections, constitutes what is usually called sympathy. It is composed of an act of imagination and self-love, by which we transfer ourselves, as it were, into the situation of other men, and thereby re- gulate our conduct towards them. It is however to be kept in mind, that the principle of self-love, thus brought into action, is the test, not the rule of our conduct. This is a point on which there has been much vague and useless speculation ; and, from not attending to the distinction, some have referred our ideas of bene- volence entirely to the principle of selfishness. Such discussions are equally unsound and unprofitable, and are to be placed on a footing with the speculations of the scholastic philosophy, which we now look back upon merely as matters of historical curiosity. The application of self-love, in the manner which has been referred to, is chiefly useful in enabling us fully to appreciate the facts of the individual case, as we would do if we were personally interested. The rule of our conduct is quite distinct from this, and rests on those fundamental principles of justice and compassion which form a part of our moral constitution. In the practical application of them, they are very much aided by the moral principle or conscience. The man who acts habitually under the influence of these rules, learns to question himself rigidly re- spectmg the claims and duties which result from his moral relations; and the feelings and circumstances of those with whom they bring him into contact. Of what elements does the author consider sympathy composed ? Useless speculations on this subject. Character of the man who acts under the influence of these rules. SEC. II.J INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 103 What, (he asks himself,) is the Une of action which belongs to me in regard to that individual, — what are his feelings in his present situation ; what are the feel- ings and conduct which he expects from me, — and what are those which I would expect from him were I in his circumstances and he in mine ? It is not a due regulation of the affections alone that arises from this wholesome state of mental discipline. It is a moral culture to the mind itself, which may often be fraught with the most important results, for the man who exercises it realizes to himself the feelings of poverty, the agonies of bereavement, the impressions of the bed of death ; and thus, without the pain of suffering, he may reap a portion of those important moral benefits which suffering is calculated to yield. There is another view still to be taken of the advan- tages derived from that mental discipline which con- sists in attenJ;ion to all the relations included under the affections. When habitually exercised, it may often bring before the mind important circumstances in our moral relations, which are apt to make an inadequate impression amid the distractions of present things. When the parent, for example, looks around the objects of his tender affection, what a new impulse is commu- nicated by the thought, that the present life is but the infancy of their being; and that his chief and highest concern is to train them for immortality. A similar impulse must be given to the philanthropist, when he considers that the individuals, who share his benevo- Three test questions. What effect does the habit of sympathy with the sufferings of others produce upon the character ? Another advantage of the mental discipline referred to. Example ; the parent. Thoughts connected with the sight of his children. ^ 104 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. lent attentions, are, like himself, passing through a scene of discipline to a higher state of existence, Av^here they will assume a place corresponding to their rank in the scale of moral beings. The refined philanthropy thus arising, while it neglects no proper attention to the distresses of the present life, will seek chiefly to contend with those greater evils which degrade the moral nature, and sever the immortal spirit from its God. He, who judges upon this extended principle, will learn to form a new estimate of the condition of man. Amid the pride of wealth and the splendor of power, he may mourn over a being lost to every feeling of his high destiny ; and, by the death-bed of the peasant, amid discomfort and suffering, he may con- template with interest a purified spirit rising to immor- tality. II. Next to the power of attention, we l]ave to notice the influence produced upon the affections by habit. This is founded upon a principle of our nature, by wliich a remarkable relation exists between the affections and the actions which arise out of them. The ten- dency of all emotions is to Dccome weaker by repeti- tion, or to be less acutely felt the oftener they are ex- perienced. The tendency of actions, again, as we have seen when treating of the intellectual powers, is to become easier by repetition, so that those, which at first require close and continued attention, come to be performed without oftbrt, and ahnost without con- Refleclions of the philanthropist. EfTcct of siirh reflections. Proper estimate of the condition of men. Second tjroiit cause influencing the at](?c- hons. What is the efTcct of repetition upon the emotions'? upon the actions ? bEC. II.] INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 105 sciousness. Now an affection properly consists of an emotion leading to an action : and the natural progress of the mind, in the proper exercise of the affection, is, that the emotion becomes less acutely felt, as the action becomes easier and more familiar. Thus, a scene of wretchedness, or a tale of sorrow, will produce in the inexperienced an intensity of emotion not felt by him whose life has been devoted to deeds of mercy ; and a superficial observer is apt to consider the condition of the latter as one of insensibility, produced by famili- arity with scenes of distress. It is, on the contrary, that healthy and natural progress of the mind, in which the emotion is gradually diminished in force as it is followed by its proper actions, that is, as the mere intensity of feeling is exchanged for the habit of active benevolence. But that this may take place iu the sound and healthy manner, the emotion must be steadily followed by the action which belongs to it. If this be neglected, the harmony of the moral process is destroyed, and, as the emotion becomes weakened, it is succeeded by cold insensibility or barren selfish- ness. This is a subject of much importance, and there are two conclusions which arise out of it respecting the cultivation of the benevolent affections. The one re- lates to the bad effects of fictitious scenes of sorrow, as represented on the stage, or in works of fancy. The evil arising from these appears to be that which has now been referred to : the emotion is produced What IS the effect of repetition upon the affections ? Example given, illus- trative of this ? Nature of the effect produced hy familiarity with suffering. Tv,'o conclusions from this truth. Fictitious sufferings. How do thev affecl the mind ? !06 AFFECTIONS. [PART 1. withoiil the corresponding action, and tlie conseqnence is likely to be a cold and useless sentimeiitalism, in- stead of a sound cultivation of the benevolent affec- tions. The second is, that, in cultivating the benevo- lent alfections in the young, we should be careful to observe the process so clearly pointed out by the philo- sophy of the moral feelings. They should be familiar- ized with actual scenes of suffering, but this ought to be accompanied by deeds of minute and active kind- ness, so as to produce a full and lively impression of the wants and feelings of the sufferer. On this ground, also, I thi;ik we should at first even abstain, in a great measure, from giving young persons the cautions they will afterwards find so requisite, respecting the charac- ters of the objects of their benevolence, and the impo- sitions so frequently practised by the poor. Suspicions of this kind might tend to interfere with the important moral process which ought to be our first object; the necessary cautions will afterwards be learned with little difficulty. The best mode of contending with the evils of pau- perism, on the principles of political economy, is a problem on which I presume not to enter. But, on the principles of moral science, a consideration of the ut- most importance should never be forgotten, — the great end to be answered by the varieties of human condition in the cultivation of the benevolent affections. Political science passes its proper boundary, when it is per- mitted in any degree to interfere with this high prin- What evil results from this? Rule in respect to the training of the Vcung? Effect of cautioninar them too much as^aiiist imposture. Great suhject in political economy mentioned here? What is one great olgect ot the varieties in the human condition ? SEC. 11.] MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 107 ciple ; and, on the other hand, it is not to be denied, that this important purpose is in a great measure frus- trated by many of those institutions, which cut off the direct intercourse of the prosperous and the weahhy with those whom Providence has committed to them, in this scene of moral disciphne, as the objects of their benevolent care. III. The third point, which remains to be brietiy mentioned, is the feehng of moral approbation, or rather the impression of merit, which is frequently attached to the exercise of the affections. This impor- tant subject has been already referred to. When the mother, with total disregard to her health and comfort, devotes herself to watching over her child, she is not influenced by any sense of duty, nor do we attach to her conduct the feeling of moral approbation. She acts simply upon an impulse within, which she per- ceives to be a part of her constitution, and which carries her forward with unshrinking firmness in a particular course of laborious and anxious service. She may, indeed, be sensible that the violation of these feelings would expose her to the reprobation of her kind; but she does not imagine that the zealous fulfil- ment of them entitles her to any special praise. The same principle applies to all the affections. They are a part of our moral constitution, intended to bind men together by certain offices of justice, friendship, and compassion ; and have been well named by a distin- One unfavorable effect of public charitable institutions ? Third point relating to this subject. True moral nature of these affections illustrated by .t)e case of the mother. Design of these feelings as implanted by God. 108 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. guislied writer, " the voice of God within us." They serve a purpose in our moral economy analogous to that whicli the appetites answer in our physical sys- tem. The appetite of hunger, for example, ensures a regular supply of nourishment, in a manner which could never have been provided for by any process of reasoning; though an exercise of reason is still appli- cable to preserving over it a certain regulation and control. In the same manner, the various feelings of our moral nature have each a defined purpose to an- swer, both in respect to our own mental economy and our relations to our fellow-men ; and in the due exer- cise of them they ought to be controlled and regulated bv the moral principle. The violation of these feel- mgs, therefore, places man below the level of a moral being; bat the performance of them does not entitle him to assume the claim of merit, lie is merely bear- ing his part in a certain arrangement, from which he is himself to derive benefit, as a being holding a place m that system of things whicli these feelings are in- tended to keep together in harmony and order. In regard to the great principles of veracity and justice, every one perceives this to be true. In all mercantile transactions, for example, a character for high hoi>or and integrity leads not only to respect, but to that confidence which is closely connected with prosperity. The^e qualities, indeed, are as essential to a man's own interest as they are to his duty to other men ; and if he does gam an advantage by fraud and deceit, it is onl\ To what part of the animal system are they compared ? Example. How IS a violation of these feelings to lie regarded iii a moral point of view ? • the performance of them ? Example in the case of jnstice. SEC. II.] MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 109 when he escapes detection, that is, while he preserves the reputation of the very quaUties which he has vio- lated. But this truth apphes equaUy to the afFectious more strictly benevolent. The man who lives in tho habitual exercise of a cold and barren selfishness, and seeks only his own gratification or interest, has indeed, in some sense, his punishment in the contempt and aversion with which he is viewed by his fellow-men. Much more than this, however, attaches to such a character ; he has violated the principles given him for his guidance in the social system ; he has fallen from his sound condition as a moral being ; and incurs actual guilt in the eye of a righteous governor, whose will the order of this lower world is intended to obey. But it by no means follows, that the man, who per- forms in a certain manner the relations of justice, friendship, and compassion, is thereby entitled to claim merit in the view of the Almighty Governor of the universe. He merely acts his part in the present sys- tem of moral economy, for which he has been adapted. He is so constituted as to derive satisfaction from tlie exercise of these affections ; and, on the other hand, he receives an appropriate reward in the reciprocal exer- cise of similar affections by other men, and in the ge- neral harmony of society which results from them. An extensive culture of the affections, therefore, may go on without the recognition of the moral principle, or that state of mind which habitually feels the pre- sence of the Deity, and desires to have the whole dia- ls it the same with the benevolent affections ? How is the man, who violates them regarded? Does it follow from this that the fulfi!me.iu of them creates a claim to merit ? Can the culture of the affections he inde- pendent of moral principle ? 10 110 AFFECTIONS. [l ART I racter in subjection to his will. We are not entitled to -* acknowledge the operation of that great principle, un- ( less when the affections are exercised in circumstances which imply a strong and decided sacrifice of self-love to the authority of God. This appears to correspond '" with the distinction so strikingly stated in the sacred writings — " If ye love them which love you. what reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the same?" — "I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, pray for them which despitefully use you and perse- cute you." On this branch of the subject it is also to be ob- served, that there is a kind of compensating power among the affections themselves, by which, in the intercourse of men, they act as checks upon each other. Thus resentment acts as a check upon injus- tice; and the dread of exciting anger in others has probably an influence, in preserving the peace and harmonies of society, which we often ascribe to a higher principle. In regard to the affections more strictly benevolent, these are also influenced, in a similar manner, by the feeling of disapprobation which attends any remarkable departure from their require- ments. When we keep in mind, along with this con- sideration, the manner in which all men are influ- enced, in one degree or another, by the love of appro- bation or regard to character, we perceive in the moral system a beautiful principle of compensation, tending Scripture passages quoted in tliis connection ? Compensatiiiir powei among the affections ? Examples ? Smiilar influence exerted uptm th^ benevolent affections. SEC n.] DUE REGULATION OF THEM. Ill to promote in it a certain degree of harmony. Tiiis is remarkably illustrated, for example, in the general feelmg of disapprobation which is attached to ingrati- tude, and to violation of filial affection or parental duty, and even to any marked neglect of the common calls of humanity. Along with this we are also to keep in mind, that a man is universally considered as in the lowest state of human nature, who, in these respects, has become regardless of character, — that is, of the estimation with which his conduct is viewed by his fellow-men. In regard to both the affections and the desires, v/e are farther to remember that deep and extensive influ- ence, upon the happiness of the individual himself which results from a due regulation of these feelings ; the pure mental enjoyment of him whose affections are under sound regulation, and whose desires are habitually directed to those objects which are in the highest degTce worthy of being sought after. This mental tranquillity is also represented to us, in a very striking manner, by the influence of those dispositions which we usually refer to the head of Temper. What a constant source of pure enjoyment is a meek and placid spirit, the desires of which are moderate and under due regulation, which puts upon every thing the best construction it will admit of, is slow to take offence, seeks no distinction, but views itself with humility, and others with candor, benevolence, and indulgence. Such a disposition makes the man happy in himself, and a source of happiness and peace to all Remarkable illustration of this. Effects of a due regulation of the affee lions on the happiness. Good temper. Description and effects of it ? 112 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. ' around him. On the other hand, what an unceasing: source of mental disquiet and turbulence is the oppo- site disposition, — ^jealous, envious, and censorious, — , ready to take offence at trifles, and often to construe ' incidental occurrences into intended and premeditated insults, — prone to put unfavorable constructions upon the conduct of others, and thus continually to surround , itself with imaginary enemies, and imaginary neglects' and injuries. Such « ternper is a continual torment to the individual himself., and the cause of disputes and jealousies among those with whom he is connected. We cannot fail, also, to perceive that the man of ill- regulated passions injures his own true interest and happiness, as much as he violates his duty to others ; and that his course of life is often productive of degra- dation, disease, and wretchedness. In all this we see a beautiful example of the wise arrangements of the Creator, who, in the structure of our moral nature, has connected our own peace and happiness with a state of feeling calculated to promote the happiness and peace of all around us. We cannot be at a loss to conclude what a different scene the world would pre- sent, if such feelings were universally cultivated ; and, on the other hand, we must observe how much of the actual misery that exists in the world arises from de- rangement of moral feeling, and the various conse- quences which result from it both to individuals and commimitics. We find also, by innumerable exam- ples, the remarkable influence produced by a due cul- tivation of these feelings, in alleviating, both in onr- Bad temper. Its nature and cfTects ? Effects upon the charactei and happiness of the individual. Reflections on this subject. SEC. II.] DUE REGULATION OF THEM. 113 selves and others, the physical evils which are insepa- rable from the present state. It is farther to be re- marked , as a fact worthy of the deepest attention, that the only distinct information conveyed to us in Scripture, respecting the happiness of the righteous in a future state, is, that it will consist chiefly in a perfect knowledge of the divine character, and a conformity of the soul to the moral perfections of the Deity. " It doth not yet appear," says the sacred writer, " whal we shall be ; but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." In concluding the whole subject of the affections, I have only farther to remark, that the regulated state of the moral feelings, which has been the subject of the preceding observations, seems to correspond with the quality so emphatically described in the sacred writ- ings under the name of charity. It is there uniformly represented as the great test of the moral condition ; and we find exposed, in the most striking manner, the worthlessness of all endowments which are not accom- panied by this regulation of the whole character. We cannot, therefore, conclude this subject in a more ap- propriate manner, than by a passage in which, by a few most powerful expressions, a code of ethical sci- ence is laid before us with a clearness and a force, which put to nought all human composition : — " Though I speak with the tongues of men and of an- gels, and have not charity, I am become as soundins brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and a!i Scripture testimony. Concluding remarks. The author's opinion of Uk passage quoted from Paul. 10^ 114 AFFECTIONS. [PAIIT I. knowledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; cha- rity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, cndureth all things. Charity never faileth : but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child : but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in part ; but then shall 1 know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three, but the greatest of these is charity." Repeat the passage. Meaning of the word charity. 8EC.ni.] SELF-LOVF. 115 SECTIOiV III. SELF-LOVE. There has been some dispute respecting the term Self-love, both as to its general propriety, and as to the mental feelings which ought to be referred to it. There can be no doubt that there is, in our constitution, a principle or propensity which leads us to study our own interest, gratification, and comfort; and that, in many instances, it becomes the ruling principle of the character. It is in this sense that I use the term self- love, without entering into any discussion regarding the strict logical propriety of it. Like the other mental feelings, it is to be considered as part of our moral constitution, and calculated to answer important pur- poses, provided it be kept in its proper place, and do not encroach upon the duties and affections which v/e owe to other men. When thus regulated, it constitutes prudence, or a just regard to our own interest, safety, and happiness ; when it becomes morbid in its exer- cise, it degenerates into selfishness. A sound and rational self-love ought to lead us to seek our own true happiness, and should prove a check upon those appetites and passions which interfere with What two questions have arisen in respect to self-love ? Nature of the principle. Does the author express any opinion in regard to the logical propriety of the term ? How is this principle to be regarded in a moral point of view? What good trait of character results from it when well regulated ? What bad one when it is excessive ? 116 SELF-LOVE. [I'ART . tins ; for many of them, it must be allowed, may be i not less adverse to our own real interest and comfort, than they are to our duty to other men. It sliould lead us, therefore, to avoid every thing, not only that is opposed to our interest, but that is calculated to impair our peace of mind, and that harmony of the moral feelings without which there can be no real happiness. This includes a due regulation of the desires, and a due exercise of the affections, as a moral condition which promotes our own welfare and com- fort. Self-love, viewed in this manner, appears to be placed as a regulating principle among the other powers, much inferior indeed to the great principle of conscience, so far as regards the moral condition of the individual, but calculated to answer important pur- poses in promoting the harmonies of society. The impression, on which its influence rests, appears to be simpl} the comfort and satisfaction which arise to our- selves from a certain regulation of the desires, and a certain exercise of the aflections, while feehngs of an opposite kind follow a different conduct. These sources of satisfaction are manifold. We may reckon among them the pleasure attached to the exercise of the affec- tions themselves, a feature of our moral constitution of the most interesting kind, — the true mental peace and enjoyment which spring from benevolence, friend- ship, meekness, forgiveness, and the whole train of the kindly feelings, — the gratitude of those who have expe- rienced the effects of our kindness, — the respect and Proper influence ol self-love? Nnturo and province of self-love? Its elTcct upon the desires? Its power and influence as a rcjjulator compared with conscience. Sources of satisfaction which arise from the due roguliiiioo i^ oJthe desires? SEC. Til.] SELF-LOVE. 117 approbation of those whose esteem we feel to be vahi- able, — and the return of similar affections and good otiices from other men. On the other hand, we have to keep in mind the mental agony and distraction wiiich arise from jealousy, envy, hatred, and resent- ment, — the sense of shame and disgrace which follow a certain line of conduct, — and the distress which often arises purely from the contempt and disapproba- tion of our fellow-men. " Disgrace," says Butler, " is as much avoided as bodily pain;" we may safely say that it is much more avoided, and that it inflicts a suffering of a much more severe and permanent nature. It mast likewise accord with the observation of every one, that among the circumstances, which most fre- quehtly injure our peace and impair our comfort, are those which ruffle the mind by mortifying our self- love. There is also a feeling of dissatisfaction and self-reproach which follows any neglect of a due exer- cise of the nffoctions, and which, in a well-regulated mind, disturbs the mental tranquillity fully as much as the disapprobation of other men. It is farther evi- dent, that the man of ungoverned passions, and ill- regulated affections, impairs his own peace and happi- ness as much as he violates his duties to others, for his course of life is productive, not only of degradation in the eyes of his fellow-men, but often of mental anguish, misery, disease, and premature death. There is not, perhaps, a state of more intense suffering, than v/hen the depraved heart, disappointed of those gratifications Sources of pain from allowing the desires to become inordinate ? Butler's remark. Double injury done by migoverned passions. A condition of in- tense suffenng. 118 SELF-LOVE. [parti. to which it is enslaved, and shut up from the excite- ments by which it seeks to escape from the horrors of reflection, is thrown back upon itself to be its own tormentor. To run the risk of such consequences,' for the gratification of a present appetite or passion, is clearly opposed to the dictates of a sound self-love, as has been distinctly shown by bishop Butler ; and when, in such a case, self-love prevails over an appetite or passion, we perceive it operating as a regulating prin- ciple in the moral system. It does so, indeed, merely by the impression, that a certain regulation of the moral feelings is conducive to our own true and pre- sent happiness ; and thus shows a wonderful power of compensation among these feelings, referable entirely to this source. But it is quite distinct from the great principle of conscience, which directs us to a certain Hne of conduct on the pure and high principle of moral duty, apart from all considerations of a personal nature ; which leads a man to act upon nobler motives than those which result from the most refined self-love, and calls for the mortification of all personal feelings, when these interfere, in the smallest degree, with the require- ments of duty. This distinction I conceive to be of the utmost practical importance ; as it shows a principle of regulation among the moral feelings themselves, by which a certain exercise of the affections is carried on in a manner, which contributes in a high degree to the harmonics of society, but which does not convey any impression of moral approbation or merit that can be applied to the agent. What then docs self-love require of us in respect to the appetites and passions ? Is the principle of conscience, or not, entirely distinct from this i NatiMv of the influence of conscience. 8EC. 111.] SELF-LOVE. 119 Self-love, then, leads us to consult our own feeiings, and to seek directly our own interest and happiness. Th( affections lead us to allow for the feelings, and consider the advantage and comfort, of other men ; and a certain balance between these principles is es- sential to the healthy state of the moral being. It is seldom that the affections are likely to acquire an un- due influence, but there is great danger of self-love degenerating into selfishness, which interferes with the duties we owe to others. We have formerly alluded to the means, referable to the due exercise of the affec- tions, and even to a sound and rational self-love, by which this should be in part prevented. When these are not sufficient, the appeal is to conscience ; or a distinct reference of individual cases is made to the great principle of moral rectitude. We find, accord- ingly, this principle called into action, when a man has become sensible of important defects in his moral habits. Thus, we may see a man, who has long given way to a peevish or irascible disposition, that is, to selfish acting upon his own feelings, without due re- gard to the feelings of others, setting himself to contend with this propensity upon the score of moral duty; while another, of a placid disposition, has no need of bringing the principle into action for such a purpose. In the same manner, a person who has indulged a cold, contracted selfishness may, under the influence of the same great principle, perform deeds of benevolence and kindness. Thus we perceive that the moral prin- Comparative influence of self-love and of the affections. Which is most in danger of becoming excessive? When and how is it necessary to cal? Mi tho aid of conscience ? Illustration. 120 SELF-LOVE. [part L ciple or sense of duty, when it is made the regulating motive of action, is calculated to control self-love, and preserve the proper harmony between it and the exer- cise of the affections. When the principle of self-love becomes deranged in its exercise and objects, it leads to those habits by which a man seeks his own gratification, in a way which interferes with his duties to other men. This he may do by an undue pursuit of any of the desires, whether avarice, ambition, love of eminence, or love of fame ; and the desire of knowledge itself may be so indulged as to assume the same character. Even deeds of benevolence and kindness may be performed on this principle, — as when a man, by such actions, seeks only the applause of the public, or the approba- tion of certain individuals, from whom, it may be, he expects to derive advantage. Hence the value we attach, in the exercise of all the affections, to what we call disinterested conduct ; to him who does good by stealth, or who performs acts of exalted justice, gene- rosity, or forbearance, under circumstances which ex- clude every idea of a selfish motive, or when self- interest and personal feeling are strongly and obviously opposed to them. Such conduct commands the cordial approbation of all classes of men ; and it is striking to remark how, in the highest conception of such a cha- racter that fancy can delineate, we are met by the sublime morality of the sacred writings, impressed, upon us by the purest of all motives, the imitation of Effect of self-love when deranged in its operations? Desires most com- monly pursued in an undue manner? Are deeds of lienevolence and kind- ness ever performed from an impulse of solf-love? How? Disinterested coivdnrt? Its moral character and oslimation among men. SEC. III. J SELF-LOVE, 121 him who is the giver of all good ; — '' love your ene- mies ; bless them that curse you ; do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you ; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." — " If any man will be my disciple," says the same great author of Christianity, "let him deny himself" Scripture orecepts on this subject. 11 PART IL OF THE WILL. Will or Simple Volition is that state of mind which immediately precedes action; — we will a certain act;^ and the act follows, unless it be prevented cither by. external restraint, or by physical inability to perform it. The actions thus produced arise out of the menta.. emotions formerly treated of, — the desires, and the- atTections. We desire an object, or we experience one of the affections: — the next mental act, according to the regular course of a reflecting mind, is proposing to ' ourselves the question, — shall we gratify the desire, — shall we exercise the affection? Then follows the- process of considering or deliberating. — We perceive,' perhaps, a variety of considerations or inducements,- some of which are in favor of gratifying the desire or exercising the affection, others opposed to it. Wei therefore proceed to weigh the relative force of these ' opposing motives, with the view of determining whichi Author's definition of Will? Connection between a volition and uctioDli Mental process from the desire to the act. PART II. J UNIFORMITY OF MORAL CAUSES. 123 of them we sliall allow to regulate our decision. We, at length, make up our mind on this, and resolve, we shall suppose, to do the act ; this is followed by the mental condition of willing or simple volition. In the chain of mental operations which, in such a case, intervene between the desire and the volition, a class of agents is brought into view which act upon the mind as moral causes of its volitions; these are usually called motives, or principles of action. When treating of this subject as a branch of the philosophy of the intellectual powers, I endeavored to show the grounds on which we believe, that there are facts, truths, motives, or moral causes, which have a ten- dency thus to influence the determinations of the mind, with a uniformity similar to that which we observe in the operation of physical causes. For the due opera- tion of moral causes, indeed, certain circumstances are required in the individual on whom they are expected to operate, and, without these, they may fail in theii operation. It is necessary that he should be fully m- formed in regard to them as truths addressed to his understanding, that he direct his attention to them with suitable intensity, and exercise his reasoning powers upon their tendeiLcies, and that he be himself in a certain healthy state of moral feeling. In all our in- tercourse with mankind, accordingly, we proceed upon an absolute confidence in the uniformity of the opera- Describe the steps in full. What name is given that class of agents which act upon the mind to produce volition ? Are moral causes, as well as physical causes, realh' uniform in their operation? Are the}' apparently as uniform and steady as physical causes ? What circumstances are essential to their due operation ? Do we confide in the uniformity of moral causes, in •T vitercourse with mankind ? 124 THE WILL. [part 1 . tioii of these causes, provided we are acquainted with the moral condition of the individual. We can foretell, for example, the respective effects which a tale of dis^ • tress will have upon a cold-hearted miser, and a man of active benevolence, with the same confidence with which we can predict the different actions of an acid upon an alkali and upon a metal ; and there are in- dividuals in regard to whose integrity and veracity, in | any situation in which they can be placed, we have a confidence similar to that with which we rely on the course of nature. In this manner we gradually ac- quire, by experience, a knowledge of mankind ; pre- cisely as, by observation or experiment, we acquire a knowledge of the operation of physical agents. Thus we come to know that one man is absolutely to be relied on, in regard to a particular line of conduct in given circumstances; and that another is not to be relied on, if any thing should come in the way, affect- ing his own pleasure or interest. In endeavoring to excite various individuals to the same conduct in a particular case, we learn, that, in one, we have to appeal only to his sense of duty; in another, to his love of approbation ; while, on a third, nothing Avill make any impression except what bears upon his in- terest or his pleasure. Again, when Ave find that, in a particular individual, certain motives or tnUhs fail of; the effects which we have observed them to produce- in others, Ave endeavor to impress them upon his mind,L and to rouse his attention to their bearings and tenden-i cies; and this we do from the couAqrtion. that lliese Examples illustrative of tliis. Consequence of this uniformity in respecl t'< our knowledge of mankind. Examples. PART II.] PRINCIPLES WHICH REGULATE fT. 125 trutlis have a certain uniform tendency to influence tlie volitions of a moral being, provided he can be in- duced seriously to attend to them, and provided he is in that moral condition which is required for their efficiency. In all such cases, which are familiar to every one, we recognise, therefore, a iiniform relation between ceitain moral causes or motives, and the determinations of the human mind in willing certain acts. It is no objection to this, that men act in very different ways with the same motives before them ; for this depends upon their own moral condition. When treating of the intellectual powers, I alluded to the metaphysical con- troversies connected with this subject, and I do not mean to recur to them here. Our present object is en- tirely of a practical nature, namely, to investigate the circumstances which are required for the due operation of motives or moral causes, and the manner in which the moral feelings may be so deranged, that these fail of producing their natural or proper effects. Let us, then, suppose an individual deliberating in regard to the line of conduct he shall pursue in a par- ticular case ; the circumstances or impressions which are calculated to act upon him as moral causes in de- termining his volition, that is, in deciding his conduct, are chiefly the following. (1.) Self-love, which prompts him to seek his own ease, interest, or gratifi- cation. (2.) Certain affections which lead him to take Apparent objection. Is this subject well settled among metaph}'^sician si Author's object in bringing forward the subject here. Case supposed. Moral causes operating upon a man, to produce volitior —how many enume rated? What are they ? 11# 126 THE WILL. [part It into view duties which he owes to other men ; such as justice, benevolence, &c. (3.) The impression of mo- ' ral rectitude or moral responsibility. This is derived ^ from the great principle of conscience, aided by the ' truths of religious belief. (4.) We ought to add rea- son or judgment, which leads him to perceive certain ,' tendencies of actions, apart from their moral aspect. } Now, in deciding on his conduct in any particular ^ ir^-tance, one man makes every thing bend to his own " mterest or pleasure, with little regard to the interests ' of others ; unless in so far as the absolute requirements ; of justice are concerned, the infringement of which might expose him to loss of reputation, or even to punish- ment. Another surrenders a certain portion of his per- sonal gratification to the advantage or comfort of others, purely as an exercise of feeling from which he expe* -^ ricnces satisfaction; influenced, also, probably, in some measure, by a regard to character, or the love of appro- bation. In such a man, it becomes, in individual in- stances, a matter of calculation, what degree of the sacrifice of personal ease, interest, or feeling, is to be made to this principle of action. A third contemplates i the case purely as one of duty or moral responsibility, /' and acts upon this principle, though it may involve a 1 1 degree of personal exertion, or a sacrifice of personal I feeling, in itself disagreeable or even injurious to him; ; that is, though the strongest personal motives would I lead to a difl^crcnt conduct. Let the case, again, refer : to one of the desires, bearing no immediate relation to i the interests of other men. One man goes directly into > Do all decide alike in respect to these claims ? First kind of decision v mentioned'.' Second kind ? Third kind? PART II.] PRINCIPLES WHICH REGULATE IT. 127 the gratification of it. without any consideration. Ano- ther, who feels the same desire, considers the influence which the indulgence would be likely to have on his health, interest, or reputation. This maybe considered as simply an exercise of judgment, combined with a certain operation of self-love. A third views the aspect of the deed purely as a question of moral responsibility, and, if he sees cause, decides against it on this ground alone : though he should perceive that it might be gratified without any danger to his health, interest, or reputation, or even that it might contribute to his ad- vantage. We have thus presented to us three characters : one who acts upon the high and pure ground of moral principle : one who acts from motives of a more con- tracted and personal nature, though, in certain instances, his conduct may be the same; and one who goes straight forward to the gratification of a ruling desire or governing propensity, without attending to motives of either class. The first is a uniform character, on "vhose conduct we depend in any given circumstances, with a confidence similar to that with which we rely on the operation of physical agents. For we know the uniform tendencies of the motives or moral causes by which he is habitually influenced, and we know his moral temperament. We have nearly the same kind of knowledge respecting him, which we have of the tendencies of chemical agents towards each other, and which enables us with pertect confidence to foretell Various decisions in respect to the gratification of the desires? The three characters thus presented ? C mfidence to be placed in the first ; and vhy? 128 THE WILL. [part II. their actions. The third has also a uniformity of con- . duct, though of a very different kind. We know, like- | wise, his moral condition, and, to predict his conduct, f we require only to learn the particular inducements or temptations to which he is exposed in a given instance. ■ The second we cannot rely or calculate upon ; for we f have not the means of tracing the conflicting views by j which he may be influenced in a particular case, or the i principle on which he may ultimately decide between / them. They involve the strength of the inclination, and the degree of power exerted over it by the class ^ of personal or selfish motives by which he is influenced. ^ In regard to various instances of ill-regulated desire, ; we must add his hope of evading detection, as on this j depends, in a great measure, the kind of evils dreaded ) by him in reference to the indulgence. These taken together imply a complicated moral calculation, of • which it is impossible for another man to trace the result. There cannot be an inquiry of more intense interest ; than to investigate the causes in which originate the m differences among these three characters; or, in other words, the principles on which we can explain the j fact, that the will of individuals may be influenced so j difforcutly with the same motives before them. These appear to be referable to three heads, — Knowledge, — Attention, — and Moral Habits. I. A primary and essential element, in the due regii*-; Is the conduct of the third uniform or noi ? How ? Degree of confidence -^ lo he placed in the second? V.irious influences actin? upon such a mind ? Tiiteresting inquirj' here proposed ? Sources of influence in respect to the^^ formation of character ? PART II.J INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 129 lation of the will, is a correct knowledge of the truths and motives which tend to influence its determinations. The highest class of these comprehends the truths of religious belief, — a series of moral causes, the tendencies of which are of the most important kind, and calculated to exert a uniform power over every man who surren- ders himself to their guidance. For this purpose, a correct knowledge of them is required ; and, to all who have this knowledge within their reach, the careful acquisition involves a point of the deepest moral respon- sibility. The sacred writers speak in the strongest terms of the guilt attached to voluntary ignorance : and this must be obvious to every one who considers the clearness with which the highest truths are dis- closed, and the incontrovertible evidence by which they are supported. This applies equally to the prin- ciples both of natural and of revealed religion. The important truths of natural religion are partly matters of the most simple induction from the phenomena of nature which are continually before us; and partly impressed upon our own moral constitution in the clearest and most forcible manner. From the planet revolving in its appointed orbit, to the economy of the insect on which we tread, all nature demonstrates, with a power which we cannot put away from us, the great incomprehensible One, a being of boundless perfections and infinite wisdom. In regard to his moral attributes, also, he has not left himself without a witness; for a sense of these he has impressed upon us in the clearest What kind of knowledge is necessary for a due regulation of the will 7 When is ignorance guilty 7 Are tlie great truths of religion clearly or v>l>- scuisly presented to men 7 Evidence oi the bemg of God, 130 THE WILL. [part II manner in that wondrous part of our constitution, the moral principle or conscience. From these two sources may be derived a knowledge of the character of the Deity, and of our relation to him as moral beings ; and the man is left entirely without excuse who fails to direct to them his most earnest attention, and to make the impressions derived from them the habitual rule of his volitions, and the guide of his whole character. " He hath the rule of right within," says Butler : •"all that is wanting is, that he honestly attend to it." Similar observations apply with equal or greater force to the truths of revealed religion. These are supported by a weight of miraculous evidence, and are transmitted to us by a chain of testimony, carrying absolute conviction to the mind of every candid in- quirer. They are farther confirmed by a probability, and a force of internal evidence, which fix themselves upon the moral feelings of every sound understanding with a power which is irresistible. The whole is ad- dressed to us as rational beings ; it is pressed upon our attention as creatures destined for another state of ex- istence ; and the duty is imposed upon every individual seriously to examine and to consider. Every man is in the highest degree responsible for the care with which he has informed himself of these evidences, and I for the attention with which he has given to every part of them its due weight in the solemn inquiry. He is farther responsible for the influence of previously formed prejudice, or any degree of that vitiated state of his. moral feelings, which prevents him from ap- Kvidence of his moral allrilmtes. Degree of evidence fo: re\ ealed religion 1 How and why are men responsibl«» for their belief on ihest subjects ? PART II.] INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 13? J proaching the subject with the simphcity of a miiKl which is seriously desirous of the truth. From the want of these essential elements of character, it may very often happen, that a man may fancy he has formed his opinions after much examination, while the result of his prejudiced or frivolous inquiry has been oidy to fix him in delusion and falsehood. Among the singular sophistries, indeed, by which some men shut their minds against inquiries of the highest import, is a kind of impression, not perhaps distinctly avowed in words, but clearly recognised in practice, that these subjects of belief are in a great measure matters of opinion, instead of being felt to rest upon the basis of immutable and eternal truth. Can any thing be more striking than the manner in which a late distin- guished poet expresses himself on the subject of a future life, — as if this truth were a mere opinion which could be taken up or laid down at pleasure, to suit the taste of the individual inquirer: — "Of the two, 1 should think the long sleep better than the agonized vigil. But men, miserable as they are, cling so to any thing like life, that they probably would prefer damna- tioTi \o quiet. Besides, they think themselves so im- portant in the creation, that nothing less can satisfy their pride, — the insects V^^ Such is the frivolous sophistry by which one, who holds a high rank in the literature of his country, could put away from him the most momentous inquiry that can engage the attention of a rational being. * Byron's Letters, Moore's Life, Vol. H. p. 581. Common error on this subject. Views of the doctrine of a future life by % celebrated \^ei. 132 THE WILL. [part II. II. Next to the acquisition of knowledge, and tlie formation of opinions, calculated to act upon us as moral beings, is the important rule of habitually at- tending to them, so as to bring their influence to bear upon our volitions. He, who honestly attends to what is passing within, will perceive that this is a voluntary exercise of his thinking and reasoning faculties. When a particular desire is present to hrs mind, he has the power to act upon the first impulse, or upon a very partial and limited, perhaps a distorted, view of the considerations and motives by which he ought to be influenced; and he has the power to suspend acting, and direct his attention deliberately and fully to the facts and principles which are calculatbd to guide his determination. This is the first great step in that re- markable chain of sequences which belong to the regu- lation of the will. It is what every one is conscious of; and, putting aside all those metaphysical subtleties in which the subject has been involved, this constitutes man a free and responsible agent. In this important process, the first mental state is a certain movement of one of the desires or one of the atfections ; to pre- vent circumlocution, we may use the term Inclination as including both. The second is a reference of the inclination to the moral causes or motives which more peculiarly apply to it, especially the indications of con- science, and the principles of moral rectitude. If these be found to harmonize with the inclination, volition Second source of influence in the formation of character? Is attention in any degree a voluntary state of mind ? How? View taken by the author of the power of the attention in regulating the will 7 What term is used tv- •oclude the desires and the atFcctions? The two great steps in the proo-ss 'if moral action? FART II.] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 133 and action follow, with the full concurrence of every moral feeling. If the inclination be condemned by these, it is, in a well-regulated mind, instantly dis- missed, and the healthy condition of the moral being is preserved. But this voluntary and most important mental process may be neglected ; the inclination may be suffered to engross the mind and occupy fully the attention ; the power may not be exercised of direct- ing it to moral causes and motives, and of comparing with them the inclination which is present. The con- sequence may be, that the man runs heedlessly into volition and action, from which the due exercise of this process of the mind might have preserved him. But a third condition may take place which presents a subject of the highest interest. The moral causes may be so far attended to, as to prevent the inclination from being followed by action ; while the inclination is still cherished, and the mind is allowed to dwell, with a certain feeling of regret, on the object which it had been obliged to deny itself Though the actual deed be thus prevented, the harmony of the moral feelings is destroyed ; and that mental condition is lost which is strictly to be called purity of heart. For this consists in the desires and affections, as well as the conduct, being in strict subjection to the indications of conscience and the principles of moral rectitude. The inclination, thus cherished, gradually acquires greater ascendency over the moral feelings.; at each succeeding contest, it more and more occupies the Result, in a well-regulated mind ? Process in a mind not resrulated ? Third condition described. Consequences? Effect on the moral feeiinus'/ . on the future character ? 12 134 THE WILL. [fart II. mind ; the attention is less and less directed to the moral truths and motives which are opposed to it ; the inclination at length acquires the predominance, and is followed by volition. This is what we mean by a man being carried away by passion, in opposition to his moral conviction ; for passion consists in a desire or an affection which has been allowed to engross the mind, until it gradually overpowers the moral causes which are calculated to counteract its influence. Now in the whole of this course each single movement of the mind is felt to be entirely voluntary. From that step, which constitutes the first departure from moral purity, the process consists in a desire being cherished which the moral feelings condemn; while, at each succeeding step, the influence of these feelings is gra- dually weakened, and finally destroyed. Such is the economy of the human heart, and such the chain of sequences to be traced in the moral history of every man, who, with a conviction upon his mind of what is right, has followed the downward course which gradu- ally led him astray from virtue. When we trace such a process backwards in a philosophical poiut of view, the question still recurs, what was the first step, or that by which the mind was led into the course which thus terminated in favor of vice. In the wonderful chain of sequences, which has been established in the mental constitution, it would appear, that a very slight movement only is required for deranging the delicate harmony which ought to exist among the Effects of this indulgence on the power of the inclinations ? Dominion of the passions, what and how acquired ? Are the movements of the mind Toluntary in these moral processes ? Interesting question in relation to thii process 7 PART n.] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 135 moral feelings; but this ea:h individual feels to be entirely voluntary. It may consist in a desire being cherished which the moral feelings disapprove ; and, though the effect at first may be small, a morbid influ- ence has arisen, which gains strength by continuance, and at last acquires the power of a moral habit. The more the desire is cherished, the less is the attention directed to the considerations or moral causes by which it might be counteracted. In this manner, ac- cording to the mental economy, these causes gradually lose their power over the volitions or determinations of the mind ; and, at a certain period of this progress, the judgment itself comes to be changed respecting the moral aspect of the deed. There is still another mental condition to be men- tioned in connection with this subject : in which the harmony of the moral feelings may be destroyed, without the action following. This takes place when the inclination is cherished, as in the former case, in opposition to the indications of conscience ; while the action is opposed by some inferior motives, as a regard to reputation or interest. The deed may thus be pre- vented, and the interests of society may benefit by the difference ; but so far as regards the individual him- self, the disruption of moral harmony is the same ; and his moral aspect must be similar in the eye of the Al- mighty One, who regards not the outward appearance alone, but who looketh into the heart. In this manner it may very often happen, that strong inducements to vice Nature of the first step in sin ? What are the effects of yielding to such desires ? Can there be an indulgence of the sinful inclinations without action? What may prevent action in such a case? Is there any advantage in such external restraint 7 What ? 136 THE WILL. [part II are resisted from motives referring merely to health, or to character. But this is not to overcome temptation ; it is only to balance one selfish feeling against another. III. From the state of mind which has now been referred to, there gradually results a Moral Habit. This is a mental condition, in which a desire or an affection, repeatedly acted upon, is, after each repeti- tion, acted upon with less and less eflfort; — and, on the other hand, a truth or moral principle, which has been repeatedly passed over without adequate attention, after every such act makes less and less impression^ until at length it ceases to exert any influence over the moral feelings or the conduct. I had occasion to illus- trate this remarkable principle in another point of view, when treating of the connection between the emotions of sympathy and benevolence, and the con- duct which naturally arises out of them. This con- duct at first may require a certain eff'ort, and is accom- panied by a strong feeling of the emotion which leads to it. But after each repetition, the acts go on with less feeling of the emotion, and less reference to the principle from which they spring; while there is pro- gressively forming the habit of active benevolence. It is precisely the same with habits of vice. At first a deed requires an effort, and a powerful contest with moral principles ; and it is speedily followed by that feeling of regret, to which superficial observers give the name of repentance. This is the voice of con- The moral character of mere external restraint. Moral habit ; its nature 7 How is it that ha'-it confirms a had or g^ood character? How are habits o^ rice fbrmeil ? What effect is produced on conscience by disregarding- it ? PAKT II.] INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 137 science ; but its power is more and more diminished after ea:h repetition of the deed; — even the judgment becomes perverted respecting the first great principles of moral rectitude ; and acts, which at first occasioned a violent conflict, are gone into without remorse, or almost without perception of their moral aspect. A man in this situation may still retain the knowledge of truths and principles, which at one time exerted an influence over his conduct; but they are now matters of memory alone. Their power as moral causes is gone, and even the judgment is altered respecting their moral tendencies. He views them now perhaps as the superstitions of the vulgar, or the prejudices of a contracted education ; and rejoices, it may be, in his emancipation from their authority. He knows not, for he has not the moral perception now to know, that he has been pursuing a downward course, and that the issue, on which he congratulates himself, consists in his last degradation as a moral being. Even in this state of moral destitution, indeed, the same warning principle may still raise its voice, unheeded but not subdued, repelled as an enemy, not admitted as a friendly monitor and guide. " I have not the smallest mfluence over lord Byron in this particular," writes one of the chosen friends of that distinguished indivi- dual ; " if I had, I certainly should employ it to era- dicate from his great mind the delusions of Chris- tianity, which, in spite of his reason, seem perpetually to recur, and to lay in ambush for the hours of sick- Is the man whose conscience is seared ignorant of duty? How do his former correct principles appear to him 1 Can this principle often be en- tirely eradicated? Lord Bvron's case? 138 THE WILL. [part IT. ness and distress." It would be interesting to know , what the particular impressions were, from which this [ sympathizing friend was anxious to rescue the poet ; They were probably the suggestions of a power with • m, which, in certain seasons of reflection, compelled : his attention in spite of his attempts to reason against j it, pleading with authority for a present Deity, and a \ life to come. The principle of habit, therefore, holds a most im- portant place in the moral condition of every man ; and it applies equally to any species of conduct, or ? any train of mental operations, which, by frequent ) repetition, have become so familiar, as not to be ac- \ 3ompanied by a recognition of the principles in which they originated. In this manner good habits are con- tinued without any immediate sense of the right prin- j ciples by which they were formed; but they arose ^ from a frequent and uniform acting upon these princi- ] pies, and on this is founded the moral approbation 7 which we attach to habits of this description. In the ;i same manner, habits of vice, and habits of inattention to any class of duties, are perpetuated without a sense i of the principles and affections which they violate ; • but this arose from a frequent violation of these prin- ciples, and a frequent repulsion of these aflfections, 1 until they gradually lost their power over the conduct; n and in this consists the guilt of habits. Thus one c person acquires habits of benevolence, veracity, and ti kindness, — of minute attention to his various duties, — 3 Object of the quotation ? How extensive is the influence of habit ? Arc the principles on which habits are formed always present to the mind while .he haluts continue? PART II.] INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 139 of correct mental discipline, — and active direction of his thoughts to all those objects of attention which ought to engage a well-regulated mind ; another sinks into habits of listless vacuity or frivolity of mind, — of vicious indulgence and contracted selfish- ness, — of neglect of important duties, disregard to the feelings of others, and total indifference to all those considerations and pursuits which claim the highest regard of every responsible being; and the striking fact is^ that, after a certain period, all this may go on without a feeling that aught is wrong either in the moral condition, or the state of mental discipline; such is the power of a moral habit. The important truth, therefore, is deserving of the deepest and most habitual attention, that character consists in a great measure in habits, and that habits arise out of individual actions and individual opera- tions of the mind. Hence the importance of carefully weighing every action of our lives, and every train of thought that we encourage in our minds ; for we never can determine the effect of a single act, or a single mental process, in giving that influence to the charac- ter, or to the moral condition, the result of which shall be decisive and permanent. In the whole history of habits, indeed, we see a wondrous display of that re- markable order of sequences which has been esta- blished in our mental constitution, and by which every man becomes, in an important sense, the master of his own moral destiny. For each act of virtue tends to make him more virtuous ; and each act of vice Examples? Connection between habit and character? Influence of sing:lc acis ? The tendency of each act of virtue ? 140 THE WILL. [part II. gives new strength to an influence within, which will j certainly render him more and more vicious. ^ These considerations have a practical tendency of • the utmost interest. In subduing habits of an injuri- ous character, the laws of mental sequences, which have now been referred to, must be carefully acted : upon. When the judgment, influenced by the indica- jf tions of conscience, is convinced of the injurious nature-* of the habit, the attention must be steadily and habi- ^ tually directed to the truths which produced this im- ^ pression. There will thus arise desire to be delivered ; from the habit, or, in other Avords, to cultivate the,' course of action that is opposed to it. This desire,^ being cherished in the mind, is then made to bear-; upon every individual case in which a propensity is; felt towards particular actions, or particular mental' processes, referable to the habit. The new inclination . is at first acted upon with an effort, but, after every . instance of success, less efl'ort is required, until at:' length the new course of action is confirmed, and over-' 1 powers the habit to which it was opposed. But thati. this result may take place, it is necessary that the | mental process be followed, in the manner distinctly indicated by the philosophy of the moral feelings; for- if this is not attended to, the expected effect may nott. follow, even under circumstances which appear, at t first sight, most likely to produce it. On this principle ;. we are to explain the fact, that bad habits may be ■ long suspended by some powerful extrinsic influence, Of each act of vice ? What practical lessons are to be learned from these ' views ? Process by which bad habits are corrected ? May bad habits be i •uspended without being broken? PART II.] MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 141 while they are m no degree broken. Thus, a person addicted to intemperance will bind himself by an oath to abstain, for a certain time, from intoxicating liquors. In an instance which has been related to me, an indi- vidual mider this process observed the most rigid so- briety for five years, but was found in a state of intoxi- cation the very day after the period of abstinence ex- pired. In such a case, the habit is suspended by the mere influence of the oath ; but the desire continues unsubdued, and resumes all its former power whenever this artificial restraint is withdrawn. The effect is the same as if the man had been in confinement during the period, or had been kept from his favorite indul- gence by some other restraint entirely of an external kind ; the gratification was prevented, but his moral nature contumed unchanged. These principles may be confidently stated as facts in the moral constitution of man, challenging the assent ( f every candid observer of human nature. Several conclusions seem to arise out of them, of the utmost practical importance. We perceive, in the first place, a state which the mind may attain, in which there is such a disruption of its moral harmony, that no power appears in the mind itself capable of restoring it to a healthy condition. This important fact in the philo- sophy of human nature has been clearly recognised, from the earliest ages, on the mere principles of human science. It is distinctly stated by Aristotle in his Nico- Example given. A fact illustrative of this. Remarks upon the case. What is meant by the phrase "challenging the assent?" First practical conclusion drawa from these principles. Hopeless condition in which a mind may he placed ? Has this fact always been admitted ? 142 THE WILL. [part II machean Ethics, where he draws a striking comparison between a man who. being first misled by sopliistical reasonings, has gone into a Ufe of vohiptuousness under an impression that he was doing no wrong, and one who has followed the same course in opposition to his own moral convictions. The former he contends might be reclaimed by argument; but the latter he considers as incurable. In such a state of mind, there- fore, it follows by an induction which cannot be con- troverted, either that the evil is irremediable and hope- less, or that we must look for a power from without the mind which may afford an adequate remedy. We are thus led to perceive the adaptation and the proba- bility of the provisions of Christianity, where an in- fluence is indeed disclosed to us, capable of restoring the harmony which has been lost, and raising man anew to his place as a moral being. We cannot hesitate to believe that the Power, who framed the wondrous fabric, may thus hold intercourse with it, and redeem it from disorder and ruin. On the con- trary, it accords with the highest conceptions we can form of the benevolence of the Deity, that he should thus look upon his creatures in their hour of need; and the system disclosing such communication appears, upon every principle of sound philosophy, to be one of harmony, consistency, and truth. The subject, therefore, leads our attention to that inward change, so often the scoff of the profane, but to which so pro- minent a place is assigned in the sacred writings, in What ancient author is appealed to in proof? Substance of the view quoted from Aristotle ? What is the provision made in Christianity for a mind thus hopelessly lost? Is then any philosophical presumption againsl such a divine influence ? PART n.] MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 143 wliich a man is said to be created anew by a power from heaven, and elevated in his whole views and feelings as a moral being. Sound philosophy teaches us, that there is a state in which nothing less than such a complete transformation can restore th^ man to a healthy moral condition, and that, for producing it, nothing will avail but an influence from without the mind, — a might and a power from the same Almighty One who originally framed it. Philosophy teaches, in the clearest manner, that a portion of mankind require such a transformation ; Christianity informs us that it is rt;quired by all. When the inductions of science and the dictates of revelation harmonize to this extent, who shall dare to assert that the latter are not truth 7 Who, that places himself in the presence of a being of infinite purity, will say, he requires not such a change ; or that, for the production of it, he needs no agency, beyond the resources of his own mind 7 If none be found who is entitled to believe he forms the excep- tion^ we are forced into the acknowledgment of the truth, so powerfully impressed upon us in the sacred writings, that, in the eye of the Almighty One, no man in himself is righteous ; and that his own power avails not for restoring him to a state of moral purity. From the whole of this inquiry, we see, in the second place, the deep influence of habits, and the fearful power which they may acquire over the whole moral system ; considerations of the highest practical interest What does sound philosophy teach in respect to the necessity of such a change? Does Christianity teach that this change is necessary for all? Can any think he himself is an exception? Second practical inference from the principles discussed in this chapter ? 144 THE "WILL. [part II. to those who would prevent the formation of habits of an injurious nature, or who, fechng their iniluence, , strive to be deUvered from them. There is indeed a ; point in this downward course, where the habit has { acquired undisputed power, and the whole moral feel- ings yield to it unresisting submission. Peace may then be within, but that peace is the stillness of death;, i and, unless a voice from heaven shall wake the dead| \ the moral being is lost. But. in the progress towards ^ this fearful issue, there may be a tumult, and a contest, • and a strife, and the voice of conscience may still com- j mand a certain attention to its warnings. While there are these indications of life, there is yet hope of the man; but on each moment is now suspended his moral i; existence. Let him retire from the influence of exter--.; nal things; and listen to that voice within, which^^; though often unheeded, still pleads for God. Let himi> call to aid those high truths which relate to the pre--^ sence and inspection of this being of infinite purity, .^ and the solemnities of a life which is to come. Above ^i all, let him look up in humble supplication to that purep^) and holy One, who is the witness of this warfare, who will regard it with compassion, and impart his ^ powerful aid. But let him not presumptuously rely.> on this aid, as if the victory were already secured The contest is but begun ; and there must be a con- tinued effort, and unceasing watchfulness, a habitual.^; direction of the attention to those truths which, as.N moral causes, are calculated to act upon the mind, — State of the mind when had hahits havo acquired complete dnmininn? How can we best contend against sin while the habit is not fully formed ? Sources of aid ? Is the mind to rest exclusively on the expectation of divine, aid, without personal effort? PART n.J MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 145 and a constant reliance upon the power from on high which is felt to be real and indispensable. With all this provision, his progress may be slow ; for the op- posing principle, and the influence of established moral habits, may be felt contending for their former domi- nion ; but by each advantage that is achieved over them, their power will be broken and finally destroyed. Now in all this contest towards the purity of the moral being, each step is no less a process of the mind itself than the downward course by which it was preceded. It consists in a surrender of the will to the suggestions 01 conscience, and a habitual direction of the attention to those truths which are calculated to act upon the moral volitions. In this course, the man feels that he is authorized to look for a might and an influence not his own. This is no imaginary or mysterious impres- sion, which one may fancy that he feels, and then pass on contented with the vision ; but a poAver which act^ through the healthy operations of his own mind ; it is in his own earnest exertions, as a rational being, to regulate these operations, that he is encouraged to expect its communication ; and it is in feeling these assuming the characters of moral health, that he has the proof of its actual presence. And where is the improbability that the pure and holy One, who framed the wondrous moral being, may thus hold mtercourse with it, and impart an influence in its hour of deepest need. According to the utmost of our conceptions, it is the highest of his works, for Can we expect very rapid progress in eradicating sinful habits ? Nature of the process hy which the mind returns to virtue ? Is there any natura. improhabiJity that God may hold an intercourse with the soul of man ? 13 146 THE WILL. [part II. he has endowed it with the power of rising to the con- templation of himself, and with the capacit}^ of aspiring to the imitation of his own moral perfections. We cannot, for a moment, doubt, that his eye must reach its inmost movements, and that all its emotions, and desires, and volitions, are exposed to his view. We , must believe that he looks with displeasure when ij he perceives them wandering from himself; and ;' contemplates with approbation the contest, Avhen the ; spirit strives to throw off its moral bondage, and to ; fight its way upwards to a conformity to his Avill. ■ Upon every principle of sound philosophy, all this^L must be open to his inspection ; and we can perceive '^ nothing opposed to the soundest inductions of reason i; in the belief, that he should impart an influence to >, the feeble being in this high design, and conduct him i( to its accomplishment. In all this, in fact, there is^ so little improbability, that we find it impossible tO);, suppose it could be otherwise. We find it impossible ^u to believe, that such a mental process could go on without the knowledge of him whose presence is in every place, or that, looking upon it, he should want either the power or the willingness to impart his efiectual aid. But, independently of our conviction of an actual, communication from the Deity, there is a power in the( mind itself, which is calculated to draw down upon itt an influence of the most eflficient kind. This is pro-»^j duced by the mental process which we call Faith Why not ? Degree of minuteness with which God must watch the move r monts of the soul? Inference which the writer draws from this? Wha'e^ view (!nps the author talce of the power of faith? ; PART II.] MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 147 and it may be illustrated by an impression which many must have experienced. Let us suppose that we have a friend of exalted intelligence and virtue, who has often exercised over us a commanding influence, — restraining us from pursuits to which we felt an incli- nation, exciting us to virtuous conduct, and elevat- ng, by his intercourse with us, our impressions of a character on which we wished to form our own. Let us suppose that we are removed to a distance from this friend, and that circumstances of difiiculty or danger occur, in Avhich we feel the want of a guide and counsellor. In the reflections which the situation naturally gives rise to, the image of our friend is brought before us ; an influence is conveyed analogous to that which was often produced by his presence and lis counsel ; and we feel as if he were actually present, tender his advice and watch our conduct. How iiuch would this impression be increased, could we toher entertain the thought, that this absent friend vas able, in some way, to communicate with us, so ar as to be aware of our present circumstances, and to )erceive our efforts to recall the influence of his cha- acter upon our own. — Such is the intercourse of the ;oul with God. Every movement of the mind is :nown to him ; his eye is present with it, when, in ny situation of duty, distress, or mental discipline, the nan, under this exercise of faith, realizes the presence ,nd character of the Deity, and solemnly inquires how, n the particular instance, his moral feelings and his onduct will appear in the eye of him who sceth in ecret. This is no vision of the imagination, but a p Illustration ? State fully the case supposed. Application of the case. I4H THE WILL. [part II. fact supported by every principle of sound reason, — an influence which a man brings down upon himself, when, by an effort of his own mind, he thus places himself in the immediate presence of the Almighty. The man who does so in every decision of life is he who lives by faith ; and, whether we regard the ^Ji- ductions of reason, or the dictates of sacred truth, such a man is taught to expect an influence greater and more effectual still. This is a power immediately from God, which shall be to him direction in every doubt, light in every darkness, strength in his ut- most weakness, and comfort in all distress ; a power which shall bear upon all the principles of his moral nature, when he carries on the mighty conflict of bringing every desire and every volition under a con- formity to the divine will. We again hazard with confidence the assertion, that in all this there is na^ improbability; but that, on the contrary, the impro-' bability is entirely on the other side, — in supposingi' that any such mental process could take place, without; the knowledge and the interposition of that incompre- hensible One, whose eye is upon all his works. Way Id which ftith operates to preserve the moraJ powers? The resulln of it? PART III. OF THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, OR CONSCIENCE. There has been much dispute respecting the nature and even the existence of the Moral Principle, as a distinct element of our mental constitution; but this controversy may probably be considered as allied to other speculations of a metaphysical nature, in regard to which a kind of evidence was sought of which the subjects are not susceptible. Without arguing re- specting the propriety of speaking of a separate power or principle, we simply contend for the fact, that there is a mental exercise, by which we feel certain actions to be right and certain others wrong. It is an element or a movement of our moral nature which admits of no analysis, and no explanation ; and is referable to no other principle than a simple recognition of the fact, I Suliject of this lesson ? What dispute in respect to the moral principle 1 does the author allude to ? Does he intend to enter into this dispufr- '? He i insists only upon a certain fact ; what is it ? Can this fact oe analyzed oi I explained? 13* 150 THE MORAL PRINCFPLE. fPART III. which forces itself upon the conviction of evTry m:in ^ who looks into the processes of his own mind. Of the ' existence and the nature of this most important princi- ple, therefore, the evidence is entirely within. We ^ appeal to the consciousness of every man, that he per- i ceives a power which, in particular cases, warns himi^ of the conduct which he ought to pursue, and admi- P nisters a solemn admonition when he has departed from it. For, while his judgment conveys to him am^ impression, both of the tendencies and certain of the qualities of actions, he has, besides this, a feeling by which he views the actions with approbation or disap- probation, in reference purely to their moral aspect, and without any regard to their consequences. Wheiii we refer to the sacred writings, we find the principle of conscience represented as a power of such impor- tance, that, without any acquired knowledge, or any^ actual precepts, it is sufficient to establish, in every man, such an impression of his duty as leaves himi without excuse in the neglect of it : — '' For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the • things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves : which show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one another." We even find a power assigned to the decisions of conscience, difiering in extent only, but not in kind, from thea judgment of the Almighty: — "If ovu' heart condemn'^ Wliere do we find the evidence of ii ? Diflerence between the judijmcnt and the moral sense, in respect to their decisions on human actions ? Scrip- "t Nural view of conscience ? Quotation. Where is this j.assage found ? PART III.] THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 151 US, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all thhigs." The province of conscience then appears to be, to convey to man a certain conviction of what is mo- rally right and wrong, in regard to conduct in indivi- dual cases, and to the general exercise of the desires or affections. This it does independently of any ac- quired knowledge, and without reference to any other standard of duty. It does so, by a rule of right which it carries within itself: and by applying this to the primary moral feehngs, that is, the desires and affec- tions, so as to indicate among them a just and healthy balance toAvards each other. The desires direct us to certain gratifications which we feel to be worthy of acquirement ; and the affections lead us to a certain course of conduct which we feel to be agreeable to ourselves, or useful to others. But, to act under the influence of conscience is to perform actions, simply because we feel them to be right, and to abstain from others, simply because we feel them to be wrong, — without regard to any other impression, or to the con- sequence of the actions either to ourselves or others. He, who on this principle performs an action, though it may be highly disagreeable to him, or abstains from another though it may be highly desirable, is a consci- entious man. Such a man, under the influence of ha- bit, comes to act more and more easily under the sug- gestions of conscience, and to be more and more set free from every feeling and propensity that is opposed The true province of conscience ? Do its decisions depend upon acquired knowledge ? How does it obtain its rule of right ? Difference between the desires, the affections, and the conscience, in their influence on human •onauct ? Influence of habit. 152 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART IIT. } to it. Conscience seems therefore to he Id a placo ' among the moral poAvers, analogous to that which j reason holds among the intellectual ; and, when we \ view it in this relation, there appears a beautiful har- mony pervading the whole economy of the mind. By certain intellectual operations, man acquires the : knowledge of a series of facts ; he remembers them, f he separates and classifies them, and forms them into I new combinations. But, with the most active exercise of all these operations, his mind might present an « accumulation of facts, without order, harmony, or ; utility ; without any principle of combination, or ' combined only in those fantastic and extravagant forms ^ Avhich appear in the conceptions of the maniac. It is :' reason that reduces the whole into order and harmony, by comparing, distinguishing, and tracing their true analogies and relations, and then by deducing truths as conclusions from the whole. It is in this manner particularly, that a man acquires a knowledge of the ' uniform actions of bodies on each other, and, confiding: in the uniformity of these actions, learns to direct hisX of view has the influence of conscience' heen thiis far spoken of? 156 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART III cations of moral purity, — and preventing self-love from interfering with the duties and affections wliich we owe to other men. But there is another and a most important purpose which is answered by this faculty, and that is, to make us acquainted with the moral attributes of the Deity. In strict philosophical language we ought perhaps to say, that this high pur- pose is accomplished by a combined operation of con- science and reason: but, however this may be, the process appears clear and intelligible in its nature, and fully adapted to the end now assigned to it. From a simple exercise of mind, directed to the great pheno- mena of nature, we acquire the knowledge of a First Cause, a being of infinite power and inliiiite wisdom; and this conclusion is impressed upon us in a peculiar manner, when, from our own bodily and mental en- dowments, we infer the attributes of him who framed us: — " He that planted the ear," says a sacred writer, ''shall he not hear; he that formed the eye, shall he not see ; he that teacheth man knowledge, shall not he know?" When we trace backwards a series of finite yet intelligent beings, Ave must arrive at one of two conclusions : — We must either trace the scries through an infinite and eternal succession of finite beings, each the cause of the one which succeeded it; or we must refer the commencement of the series to one great intelligent being, himself uncaused, infinite and eternal. To trace the series to one being, finite, yet uncaused, is totally inadmissible ; and not less so is the What other important purpose is it intended to answer ? Strictly speak- \ng! what two powers combine to give us this knowledge '? Process hy which it is acquired '? Two conclusions, from which we must chooKft, in tracing hark the series of intelligent heings? PART III.] THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 157 conception of finite beings m an infinite and eternal series. The belief of one infinite being, self-existent and eternal, is, therefore, the only conclusion at which we can arrive, as presenting any characters of credi- bility or truth. The superintending care, the goodness, and benevolence of the Deity, we learn, with a feeling of equal certainty, from the ample provision he has made for supplying the wants and ministering to the comfort of all the creatures whom he has made. This part of the argument, also, is in the clearest manner insisted upon in the sacred writings ; when the apostle Paul, in calling upon the people of Lystra to worship the true God, who made heaven and earth, adds, as a source of knowledge from which they ought to learn his character, " He left not himself without a witness, in that he did good, and gave us rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and glad- ness." A being, thus endowed with infinite power, wisdom and goodness, we cannot conceive to exist without moral feelings ; and, by a process equally obvious, we arrive at a distinct knowledge of these, when, from the moral perceptions of our own minds, we infer the moral attributes of him who thus formed us. We have certain impressions of justice, veracity, compas- sion, and moral purity, in regard to our own conduct ; we have a distinct approbation of these qualities in others ; and we attach a feeling of disapprobation to the Two inadmissible suppositions? Conclusion to which we must come '? Nature of the evidence of the benevolence of God? Appeal to this ar-,ni- ment in thp Scriptures? State the circumstances and repeat the pass^qe How is it that we can inter the moral character of God from the nnu-.J 3''n- butes af man ? 14 158 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART HI mfringement of them. By a simple step of reasoning, wliich conveys an impression of absolute conviction, we conclude, that he, who formed us with these feelings, possesses, in his own character, corresponding moral attributes, which, while they resemble in kind, must infinitely exceed in degree, those qualities in the wisest and the best of men. In our actual observation of mankind, we perceive these attributes impaired in their exercise by human weakness, distorted by human passion, and impeded in their operation by personal wants, personal feelings, and selfish interests. But, apart from such deteriorating causes, we have a cer- tain abstract idea of the full and perfect exercise of those qualities ; and it is in this pure and perfect form that we ascribe them to the Almighty. In him, they can be impeded by no weakness, distorted by no pas- sion, and impaired in their operation by no personal interest. We therefore conclude him to be perfect in the exercise of all these moral attributes, and to take the most rigid estimate of any infringement of them by man : — this is what we call the holiness of God. Even the man, who has himself departed from moral rectitude, still feels a power within, which points Avith irresistible force to what is purity, and fixes upon him a conviction that God is pure. When we view such a Being, apart from any infe- rior creature, all seems harmony and consistency; we have only to contemplate him as high and holy, and enjoying perfect happiness in his own spotless attri- Actual condition of these attributes, at present among mankind. Doeu this impair the argument ? In what condition do we conceive of them ia God ? Holiness, — in what does it consist ? In what aspect does the chiiiLC- Icr of tlie Deity :i)>pour. whon viowod l.y itsflf ? PART III. J THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 150 bates. But, when we view him in relation to man in a state of moral discipline, and, in that state, tainted deeply with moral evil, a difficulty arises of an appal- ling magnitude. There is ample scope now, we per- ceive, for the exercise of his holiness, veracity, and justice ; and he appears in sublime and terrible majesty, in his exalted character as a moral governor. But, amid such a display, there is an obvious interruption to the exercise of compassion, especially in that es- sential department of it, mercy or forgiveness. This attribute may be exercised without restraint by an in- dividual, where his own interests alone are concerned ; because in him it involves only a sacrifice of self-love. But, forgiveness in a moral governor either implies an actual change of purpose, or supposes a former decision to have been made without sufficient knowledge of, or due attention to, all the facts by which he ought to have been influenced; it denotes either undue rigor in the law, or ignorance or inattention in him who ad- ministers it ; and it may very often mterfere with the essential requisites of justice. But, in a moral go- vernor of infinite perfection, there can be neither igno- rance of facts nor change of purpose ; the requirements of his justice must stand unshaken; and his law, written on the hearts of all his rational creatures, must be upheld, in the face of the universe, as holy, and just, and good. Is, then, the exercise of mercy to be excluded from our conception of the divine character, In what aspect does it appear when viewed in connection with the cha. racter and condition of man ? What is the nature of this difficulty? In what cases maj- an individual forgive without restraint ? Forgiveness exer- cised by a governor implies what? Can either of these causes operate in God's sfovernment ? 160 ~^ THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [lART T and is there no forgiveness witli (jod 1 The sound .. < inductions of philosophy, apphed to the actual state of man, brings us to this momentous question; but the highest efforts of human science fail to answer it. It is in this our utmost need, that we are met by tlie dic- tates of revelation, and are called to humble the pride of our reason before that display of the harmony and integrity of the divine character. We there learn the truths, far beyond the inductions of human science. and the utmost conceptions of human thought, that an atonement is made, a sacrifice offered; and that the exercise of forgiveness is consistent with the perfec- tions of the Deity. Thus, by a process of the mind itself, which seems to present every element of fair and logical reasoning, we arrive at a full conviction of tin necessity, and the moral probability, of that truth, which forms the great peculiarity of the Christian revelation. More than any other, in the whole circle of religious belief, it rises above the inductions of science, while reason, in its soundest conclusions, re- cognises its probability, and receives its truth ; and it stands forth alone, simply proposed to our belief, and offered to our acceptance, on that high but peculiar evidence by which is supported the testimony of God. The truth of these considerations is impressed upon us in the strongest manner, when we turn our atten- tion to the actual moral condition of mankind. When we contemplate man, as he is displayed to us by the soundest inductions of philosophy, — his capacity for Great question arising in this connection. Answer of human sciciK-e ti this question ? Answer of revelation? Remarks upon this suhject. Cor rohoratioK of these views? PART III. J THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 161 distinguishirii, truth from falsehood, and e\il from good; the feehngs and aflections which bmd him to his fellow-men, and the powers which enable him to rise to intercourse with God : — when we consider the power, which sits among his other principles and feel- ings, as a faithful monitor and guide, carrying in itself a rule of rectitude without any other knowledge, and a right to govern without reference to any other au- thority ; we behold a fabric complete and harmonious in all its parts, and eminently worthy of its Almighty Maker; we behold an ample provision for peace, and order, and harmony, in the whole moral world. But, when we compare with these inductions the actual state of man, as displayed to us in the page of history. and in our own daily observation, the conviction is forced upon us, that some mighty change has taken place in this beauteous system, some marvellous dis- ruption of its moral harmony. The manner in which this condition arose, or the origin of moral evil under the government of God, is a question entirely beyond the reach of the human faculties. It is one of those, however, on which it is simply our duty to keep in mind, that our business is, not with the explanation, but with the facts; for, even by the conclusions of philosophy, we are compelled to believe, that man has fallen from his high estate, and that a pestilence has gone abroad over the face of the moral creation. In arriving at this conclusion, it is not with the in- ductions of moral science alone, that we compare or Condition of man as to his powers and capacities? His actual slr>;p as exhibited by history and observation ? Inference which we necessarily draw trom this ? The origin of moral evil ? Remarks upon it ? 14# 162 THE MORAI. PRINCTPT.E. fPART TIT contrast the actual state of man. For one bright ex- ample has appeared in our world, in whom was ex- , hibited human nature in its highest state of order and ; harmony. In regard to the mighty purposes which he ^ came to accomplish, indeed, philosophy fails us, and i we are called to submit the inductions of our reason to : the testimony of God. But, when we contemplate his f whole character purely as a matter of historical truth, n the conviction is forced upon us, that this was the J highest state of man ; and the inductions of true •' science harmonize with the impression of the Roman ^ centurion, when, on witnessing the conclusion of the 'i earthly sufferings of the Messiah, he exclaimed, " Truly '< this was the Son of God." 3 When we endeavor to trace the manner, in which - mankind have departed so widely from this high pat- 1 tern, we arrive at moral phenomena of which we cam^ offer no explanation. But an inquiry of much greater importance is to mark the process by which, in indi- vidual instances, conscience ceases to be the regulating principle of the character ; and this is a simple and legitimate object of philosophical observation. There cannot, indeed, be an inquiry of more intense and solemn interest, than to trace the chain of sequences- which has been established in the mind of man as ai' moral being. We can view it only as a matter of fact, / without being able to refer it to any other principle than the will of Him who framed us; but the facts v What standard of comparison have we in respect to the moral capacities ' of man? Can human science explain the ohject of the mission of that Savior? Can ve explain how mankind have departed so widely from that right stauds.-d 7 More important inquiry. PART III.] THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, 163 which are before us claim the serious attention of e\ery man, who would cultivate that most important of all pursuits, the knowledge of his own moral con- dition. The fact to which I chiefly allude is a certain relation, formerly referred to, between the truths which are calculated to act upon us as moral causes, and the mental emotions which ought to result from them ; and between these emotions and a certain conduct which they tend to produce. If the due harmony between these be carefully cultivated, the result is a sound moral condition ; but by every instance in which this harmony is violated, a morbid influence is introduced, which gains strength in each succeeding volition, and carries disorder through the moral economy. We have formerly illustrated this important moral process, by the relation between the emotion of compassion, and the conduct which ought to arise from it. If this ten- dency of the emotion be diligently cultivated, the result is the habit of active benevolence ; but, if the emotion be violated, its influence is progressively diminished, and a character is produced of cold and barren selfish- ness. A similar chain of sequences is to be observed re- specting the operation of those great truths, which, under the regulating power of conscience, are calcu- lated to act as moral causes in our mental economy ; we may take, for example, the truths relating to the character and perfections of the Deity, and the influ- ence which these ought to produce upon every rational Means by which a sound moral condition is attained? Consequences of Tiolatmg this harmony? Example. Example of a great moral truth which ought to have an influence on human character? 104 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART fll. being. We have seen the knowledge which we derive from the light of nature respecting the attributes of God, when, from his works aromid us, we discover him as a being of infinite power, wisdom, and good- ness ; and when, from the moral impressions of our own minds, we infer his perfections as a moral Governor of infinite holiness, justice and truth. By a proper direc- lioii of the mind to the truths which are thus conveyed to us respecting the Deity, there would naturally arise a corresponding chain of emotions of which he is the object. These are a sense of veneration towards him, as infinitely great, wise, and powerful, — of love and thankfulness, as infinitely good, — and of habitual re- gard to his authority and will, as a moral governor of purity and justice, and as requiring a corresponding character in all his creatures. A close and constant relation ought to be preserved between these truths and these emotions, and on this depends the moral harmony of the mind. The preservation of this har- mony, again, is intimately connected with a mental process which every man feels to be voluntary, or in his power to perform, if he wills. It consists in a care- ful direction of the mind to such truths, so as to enable them to act as moral causes in the mental economy. By the established order of moral sequences, the emo- tions naturally follow; these are then to be cherished with satisfaction and reverence ; and a corresponding, influence upon the character and conduct is the farthen consequence. But the first step in this important pro- What eflect is this truth calculated to produce ? Name some of the emo- tions it tends to awaken. Means of securing a proper influence ior ihcs* truths ? ART III.] THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 165 jess may be neglected ; — the mind may not be directed with due care to the truths whicii thus claim its high- est regard ; and the natural result is a corresponding deficiency in the emotions and conduct which ought to flow from them. This will be the case in a still higher degree, if there has been formed any actual derange- ment of the moral condition, — if deeds have been com- mitted, or even desires cherished, and mental habits acquired, by which the indications of conscience have been violated. The moral harmony of the mind is then lost, and, however slight may be the first impres- sion, a morbid influence has begun to operate in the mental economy, which tends gradually to gain strength, until it becomes a ruling principle in the whole charac- ter. The truths connected with the divine perfections are now neither invited nor cherished, but are felt to be intruders which disturb the mental tranquillity. The attention ceases to be directed to them, and the corresponding emotions vanish from the mind. Such appears to be the moral history of those, who, in the striking language of the sacred writings, '^ do not like to retain God in their knowledge." When the harmony of the mind has been impaired to this extent, another mental condition arises, accord- ing to the wondrous system of moral sequences. This consists in a distortion of the understanding itself, re- garding the first great principles of moral truth. For, ci fearless contemplation of the truth, respecting the divine perfections, having become inconsistent with Way of preventing this influence ? Consequences. Manner in which the truths of revelation are regarded by a mind in such a state. Effect upon the understanding produced by these causes. 166 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART IIL the moral condition of the mind, there next arises a desire to discover a view of them more m accordance with its own feehngs. I'his is followed, in dne course, by a corresponding train of its own speculations ; and these, by a mind so prepared, are received as truth. The inventions of the mind itself thus become the regu- lating principles of its emotions, and this mental pro- cess, advancing from step to step, terminates in mora) degradation and anarchy. Nothing can be more striking than tlie manner in which these great principles of ethical science are laid down in the sacred writings ; — " the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse : Because that, when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful ; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools ; and changed the glory of the un corruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things." — "And even as they did not hke to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a re- probate mind, to do those things which are not con- venient." The various steps, in this course of moral degradation, are here represented as a judicial infliction by the Deity. But this solemn view of the subject is in no degree inconsistent with the principle, that it What, in such a case, become, at last, the regulating principles of the mind ? Termination of the process. Repeat the passage of Scripture qiioterl in this connection. Where is this passage found? How are th« rarioiis steps reprosentod iii this :iiissage '? PART III.] THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 167 takes place according to a chain of sequences existing in the mind itself. For the Almighty One, who is said to inflict as a judgment thv3 state of moral ruin, is the same who established it as the uniform result of a pro- cess in the mental economy, to be traced in the history of every man who has followed the downward coarse which led him astray from virtue. To the principles which have now been stated, we are also to refer a point in the philosophy of human nature which presents a subject of most interesting re- flection. I allude to the fact, that the great truths of religious belief are so often rejected, by men who have acquired a reputation for exalted powers of understand- ing, in other departments of intellectual inquiry. The fact is one of intense interest; and we can scarcely wonder that superficial observers should have deduced from it an impression that it implies something defec- tive in the evidence by which these truths are proposed to our reception. But the conclusion is entirely un- warranted ; and the important principle cannot be too often repeated, that the attainment of truth in moral inquiries is essentially connected with the moral condi- tion of the inquirer. On this depends the anxious care with which he has directed his mind to the high pur- suit, under a deep and solemn feeling of its supreme importance. On this depends the sincere and humble and candid love of truth with which he has conducted it, apart alike from prejudice and frivolity. For with- out these essential elements of character, the most ex- Remarks of the author on this subject. Extraordinary fact brought foi- ward ij this connection ? Inference which has sometimes been deduced from this ? Is this conclusion warrantable ? Upon what does the attain iftietit of moral truth depend, besides sufficiency < f evidence 7 168 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART III alted intellect may fail of reaching the truth; the most acute understanding may onl}^ wander into delu- sion and falsehood. Before concluding this subject, there is another point which deserves to be alluded to ; — namely, the influ- ence produced upon all our moral judgments and de- cisions by Attention. This important process of the mind we have had occasion to mention in various parts of our inquiry. It consists, as we have seen, in direct- ing the thoughts, calmly and deliberately, to all the facts and considerations by which we ought to be in- fluenced in the particular case which is under our view ; and it should be accompanied by an anxious and sincere desire to be guided, both in our opinions and conduct, by the true and relative tendency of each of them. It is a voluntary process of the mind which every man has the power to perform ; and, on the de--. gree in which it is habitually exercised, depend somet, of the great difljerences between one man and another i in their moral condition. We have repeatedly had' occasion to mention that morbid state of the mind, in ^ which moral causes seem to have lost their proper in- fluence, both on the volitions of the will, and even on the conclusions of the judgment : but it is a truth which cannot be too often referred to, how much thiss^ condition is influenced by the mental process which wefg are now considering. It originates, indeed, in somee. degree of that distortion of moral feeling, in conse-^ quence of which the inchnations wander from the^^ In what way does the moral condition of the inquirer affect his reception i of thp truth ? What other great faculty influences our moral judgments? In whttt duos attention consist? Is it voluntary or involuntary ? Remarkl i^ Mpon its influence in the formation of character. PART III.] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 169 Strict path of rectitude ; but the primary effect of this loss of mental harmony, and that by which it is per- petuated, appears to be chiefly a habitual misdirection of the attention, or a total want of consideration of the truths and motives, by which the moral judgments and decisions ought to be influenced. Apart from this condition of the mind, indeed, there is reason to believe, that the actual differences in moral judgment are in dif- ferent men less than we are apt to imagine. " Let any honest man," says Butler, ''before he engages in any course of action, ask himself, — is this I am going to do right, or is it wrong, — is it good, or is it evil '? I do not in the least doubt but that these questions would be answered agreeably to truth and virtue, by almost any fair man in almost any circumstances." It is in a great measure from the want of this simple exercise of attention, or of what in common language we call calm reflection, that men are led away, by passion, preju- dice, and distorted moral habits, into courses of action which their own sober judgment would condemn; and, when a man, who has thus departed from recti- tude, begins to retrace his way, the first great point is that where he pauses in his downward career, and seriously proposes to himself the question, whether the course he has followed be worthy of a moral being. I allude not here to the means by which a man is led to take this momentous step in his moral history, but only to the mental process of which it consists. It is primarily nothing more than an exercise of attention, Effects produced by a habitual misdirection of the attention ? Influence of this faculty in respect to the differences of moral judgment among men? Sulistance of the quotation from Butler? Effects of a want of calm refler- tMn ? Great crisis in a man's moral history ? 15 170 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART HI ' calmly and deliberately directed to the truths and con- siderations by which his moral decisions onght to be : influenced; but, when a man has once been brought into this attitude of deep and serious thought, con- science comes to bear its part in the solemn process; and the inquirer is likely to arrive at just conclusions on those great questions of which he feels the impor- tance to his moral condition. i It is on the principles now referred to, that, accord- ' ding to a doctrine which has been often and keenly '■ controverted, we hold a man to be responsible for his - belief. The state of mind which constitutes belief is, > indeed, one over which the will has no direct power. But belief depends upon evidence ; the result of even • the best evidence is entirely dependent on attention: ! and attention is a voluntary intellectual state over which we have a direct and absolute control. As it is, r therefore, by prolonged and continued attention that • evidence produces belief, a man may incur the deepest guilt by his disbelief of truths which he has failed to examine with the care which is due to them. This ^ exercise is entirely under the control of the will ; but the will to exercise it respecting moral truth is closely ' connected with the love of that truth ; and this is in- i timately dependent on the state of moral feeling of thtf •* mind. It is thus that a man's moral condition influ- ^ ences the conclusions of his judgment ; and it is thus, ^ that, on the great questions of moral truth, there may '^ In what does this mental slate consist ? What is generally the result of "^ it ? Inference from these principles in regard to responsibility for belief? 1 Has the will a direct power over belief? Has it an indirect power? L|*' what way ? Inference from tins? How is it tnen that a man's moral con- dition influences his belief? PART III.] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 171 be guilt attached to a process of the understanding, while there is both guilt and moral degradation in that mental condition from which it springs. A similar relation exists, as was formerly stated, between all our moral emotions, and processes which are felt to be entirely voluntary. These emotions are, properly speaking, not the objects of volition, nor do they arise directly at our bidding; but, according to the constitution of the mind, they are the natural or established result of certain intellectual processes, and in some sense, even of bodily actions, both of whicl are entirely voluntary. The emotions of compassioi and benevolence, for example, are the natural result of the sight or even the description of scenes of distress and the primary steps in this process are entirely with in our 'power to perform, if we will. We can visit the afflicted family, listen to their tale of distress, and con- sider their circumstances, that is, give our attention to them in such a manner that the natural and proper effect may be produced upon our moral feelings. We can give the same kind of attention, and with a similar result, to a case which is only described to us by another; or we may neglect all this mental process. Engrossed with the business or the frivolities of life, we may keep ourselves at a distance from the persons and the scenes that might operate in this manner on I our moral feelmgs ; we may refuse to listen to the tale of sorrow, or, if compelled to hfar it, we may give it little attention and no consideration. The moral feel- Are all our moral emotions thus dependent upon voluntarj* efforts 7 Ar« I they directly dependent upon the will 7 Are they indirectly 7 Example *? Process by which we can increase the power of these emotions ? Process by which we can diminish it 7 172 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART ITT ing does not follow, and this course, after a certain repetition, terminates in confirmed and barren selfish- ness. We see many instances in which we distinctly recognise this course of mental or moral sequence. If, in regard to a particular case of distress, for example, we have come to a deliberate conviction of the worth- lessness of the individual, and have determined to with- hold our aid, we refuse to see him, and we decline hearing from another any thing more of his history ; we say, we have made up our miud not to allow our compassion to be any more worked upon in his favor. We thus recognise the natural relation between the sight or even the description of distress, and the pro- duction of certain feelings in ourselves ; and we re- cognise also the legitimate means for preventing this influence in certain cases, in which, by a deliberate acti of judgment, we have determined against having these feelings excited. If, notwithstanding this determina- tion, we happen to be brought within the influence oft the distress which we wished to avoid, we consider this as a sufficient ground for acting, in the instance, against our sober judgment. We had determined against it, we say, but what can you do when you see people starving? We thus recognise as legitimate that process by which, in certain cases, we keep ourselves' beyond this influence ; but we attach no feeling of ap-) probation to the moral condition of him who, being; subjected to the influence, can resist it ; that is, whO' can really come into contact with distress, and shuli Can we produce a permaaent change in the character in this way? Com r mon phraseology illustrative of this principle? What truth is recognised by) ihis phraseology? Is the con rol of the will direct in such a case ? Supu" ' pjtion made to illustrate this ? PART III.] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 178 his heart against it. And even with regard to the course which we here recognise as legtimate, much caution is required, before we allow a process of the judgment to interfere with the natural and healthy- course of the moral feelings. If the mterference arises, not from a sound process of the understanding, but from a course in which selfishness bears a considerable part, an injurious influence upon the moral condition of the mind is the necessary consequence. We thus perceive that, in the chain of sequences relating to the benevolent feelings, there are three distinct steps, two of which are entirely under the control of the will. A man has it entirely in his power to place himself in contact with objects of distress, and to follow out the call of duty in considering their circumstances, and entering into their feelings. The natural result is a train of emotions which arise in his own mind, prompt- ing him to a particular line of conduct. To act upon these emotions is again under the power of his will ; and if the whole of this chain of sequences be duly fol- lowed, the result is a sound condition of this part of the moral economy. If either of the voluntary steps be neglected or violated, the mental harmony is lost, and a habit is formed of unfeeling selfishness. The principle, which has thus been illustrated by the benevolent affections, is equally true of our other moral emotions. These emotions are closely connect- ed with certain truths, which are calculated to give Caution suggested here ? How many distinct steps are named in relation to benevolent feeling ? First step ? Second step ? Third step ? How many of these are voluntary ? Effect of neglecting either of these ? Arc these principles applicable to the other mor£d emotions ? Their connectioa frith the truths which give rise to them? 15^ 174 TflK MORAT, PPJNOIPI,E. [PAHT III rise to tljcin, according to the constitution of our moral economy. Now, the careful acquisition of the kn(.w- hidg^, of these truths, and a serious direction of the at- tention to their tendencies, are intellectual processes which are as much under the power of our will, as are the acts of visiting and giving attention to scenes of distress ; and the due cultivation of them involves an equa4 degree of moral responsibility. This again is connecteu with the remarkable power which we possess over the succession of our thoughts. We can direct the mind into a particular train ; we can continue it and dwell upon it with calm and deliberate attention, so that the truths, which it brings before us, may pro- duce their natural and proper effect on our moral feel- higs. The emotions thus excited lead to a certain line of conduct, which also is voluntary ; and on the due cultivation of this chain of sequences depends a healthy moral condition. But we may neglect those parts of the sequence which are under the control of our will. VV'e may abstain from directing our attention to such truths; we may view them in a slighit, frivolous, or distorted manner, or we may dismiss them altogether ; and if any degree of the emotions should be excited, we may make no effort towards the cultivation of the conduct to which they would lead us. The due cul- tivation of this power over the succession of our thoughts, is that which constitutes one of the great dif- ferences between one man and another, both as intel- lectual and moral beings; and, though correct moral emotions are not properly the objects of volition, it is The way in which we have power over ihem ? In what way can we pre- «ut such emotions rising in the miud 7 PART III.] INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 175 thus that a man may incur the deepest moral guiU in the want of them. The subject also leads to conclusions of the greatest miportance respecting the principles on which v/e ought 10 conduct religious instruction, particularly in regard to the cultivation of religious emotions. It reminds us of the important law of our nature, that all true culti- vation of religious emotion must be founded upon a sound culture of the understanding in the knowledge of religious truth, and a careful direction of the powers of reasoning and judging, both to its evidences and its tendencies. AH impulse that does not arise in this manner can be nothing more than an artificial excite- ment of feeling, widely different from the emotion of a regulated mind. Such a system generates wild enthusiasm ; and the principle is of peculiar and es- sential importance in the education of the young. In their susceptible minds religious emotion is easily pro- duced, and, by a particular management, may be fos- tered for a time. But those who have been trained in this manner are little qualified to meet the collisions of active life, and we need not wonder if they should make shipwreck of a faith which has not been founded in knowledge. Before leaving the subject of the Moral Principle, there are two points closely connected with it which : ^_ ^ Deductioa from these principles in respect to the guilt of wrong emotions 7 Remarks on the bearing of this subject upon religious instruction ? Nature o5 the impulses which do not originate in the truth ? Trait of mind produced oy them ? 176 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART III. remain to be noticed. The one relates to the origin and immutabihty of moral distinctions, and, in con- nection with this, a class of speculations which hold a conspicuous place in the history of ethical science, under the name of Theories of Morals. The othei refers to a certain harmony or principle of arrange- ment, which the different moral feelings ought to pre- serve towards each other in a well-regulated mind. ^ 1.— OF THE ORIGIN AND IMMUTABILITY OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS, AND THEORIES OF MORALS. In treating of the moral powers, I have considered various feelings as distinct parts of our constitution, each intended to answer a specific purpose in the pre- sent scene of moral discipline. I am aware of an objection that may be urged against this mode of view- ing the subject, — namely, that it is an unnecessary multiplication of original principles. I am not inclined to dispute respecting the term, ot^iginal principles. I only contend for the fact, that there are certain feelings or propensities which are found to operate in the whole of mankind ; and, with regard to these, I consider our object to be, simply to view man as he is. In his physical relations, we find him endowed with a variety Name the two points which the author proceeds to notice in conclusion. How has the author considered the various susceptibilities of the heart iu treatinsT of the moral powers ? Objections anticipated ? Does he insist od calling these feelings " original principles ?" SEC. I.J THEORIES OF MORALS. 177 of senses, and a great variety of bodily functions, each adapted to its proper purpose, and all distinct from each other ; and the physiologist is content to view them simply as they are. Were he to exercise his ingenuity upon them, he might contend Avith much plausibility, that it is highly incorrect to speak of five distinct and separate senses; for that they are all merely modifications of sensation, differing only in the various kinds of the external impression. Thus, what is vulgarly called sight is the simple sensation of light, and hearing is merely the sensation of sound. This would be all very true, but it does not appear to elucidate the subject; nor, by any ingenuity of such speculation, could we be enabled to know more con- cerning these senses than when we called them sight and hearing. In the same manner it Avould appear, that the course of inquiry, respecting our moral feel- ings, is simply to observe what these feelings really are, and what are their obvious tendencies. When we have done so on adequate foundation, I conceive we have every reason for considering them as principles implanted in us by the Creator, for guidance in our present relations ; and, like the functions of our bodies, so the powers and feelings of our mind show a won- derful adaptation and design, worthy of their Omnipo- tent Cause. But, we can know nothing of them beyond the facts, and nothing is to be gained by any attempt, however ingenious, to simplify or explain Analogy drawn from the phj'sical powers of man, to illustrate this subject? Corresponding objection which might be made to the classification of the senses ? True oltject of inquiries respecting our moral feelings ? True ex- lent and limit of our knowledge ? Do these principles apply to the corpo- real as well as to the moral powers ? 178 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [pART IIU. them. We have formerly had occasion to aUude toi various speculations, of a similar character, respecting the powers of perception and simple intellect, all of which have now given way before the general admis- sion of the truth, that, on the questions to which they refer, no human sagacity can carry us one step beyond the simple knowledge of the facts. It will probably be admitted, that there have been many similar unprofitable speculations in the philoso- phy of the moral feelings ; and that these speculations, instead of throwing any light upon the subject, have tended rather to withdraw the attention of inquirers from the questions of deep and serious importance connected with the investigation. Among these, per- haps, we may reckon some of the doctrines which hold a prominent place in the history of this branch of science, under the name of Theories of Morals, These doctrines agree in admitting the fact, that there are among mankind certain notions respecting right and wrong, moral and immoral actions; and they then profess to account for these impressions, or to explain how men come to think one action right and another wrong. A brief view of these theories may properly belong to an outline of this department of science. In contemplating the conduct of men as placed in certain relations towards each other, we perceive some actions which we pronounce to be right, and others wliich we pronounce to be wrong. In forming our Useless speculations on these subjects 7 Tendency of such speculations 1 One important class of such speculations ? Truth admitted hy all these theo- ries? Object which they attempt to accomplish? SEC. I.l THEORIES OF MORALS. 179 opinion of them in this manner, we refer to the mten- tions of the actor, and, if we are satisfied that he really intended v\4iat we see to be the elfect or the tendency of his conduct, or even that he purposed something which he was prevented from accompUshing, we view him with feeUngs of moral approbation or disapproba- tion, or, in other words, apply to him the award of praise or blame. Such is our simple idea of virtue or vice, as applied either to the act or the agent. We have a convictioji that there is a line of conduct to which ourselves and others are bound by a certain kind of obligation : a departure from this constitutes moral demerit or vice ; a correct observance of it constitutes virtue. This appears to be our primary impression of vice and virtue. The next question is, what is the origin of the impression, or on what ground is it, that we conclude certain actions to be right and others wrong? Is it merely from a view of their consequences to our- selves or others? or do we proceed upon an absolute conviction of certain conduct being right, and certain other wrong, without carrying the mind farther than the simple act, or the simple intention of the actor, without any consideration of the eflfects or the tenden- cies of the action ? This is the question which has been so keenly agitated in the speculations of ethical sci- ence, namely, respecting the origin and nature of moral distinctions. On the one hand, it is contended, that these moral impressions are in themselves immutable, In looking at human actions to what do we at first refer, to ascertain their moral character ? Nature of the simple idea of virtue or vice ? Q.uestion arising respecting it ? Two ways m which the idea of right and wrong ma" unse? 180 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART IIL and that an absolute conviction of their immntabihty is fixed upon us in that part of our constitution which we call conscience ; in other words, there is a certain conduct to which we are bound by a feeling of obliga- ! tion, apart from all other considerations whatever; and we have an impression that a departure from this in ourselves or others constitutes vice. On the other hand, it is maintained, that these distinctions are en- tirely arbitrary, or arise out of circumstances, so that what is vice in one case may be virtue in another. Those who have adopted the latter hypothesis have next to explain, what the circumstances are which give rise, in this manner, to our impressions of vice and virtue, moral approbation or disapprobation. The various modes of explaining this impression have led to the Theories of Morals. The system of Mandeville ascribes our impressions of moral rectitude entirely to the enactments of legis- lators. Man, he says, naturally seeks only his own gratification, without any regard to the happiness of other men. But legislators found that it would be necessary to induce him, in some way, to surrender a portion of his personal gratification for the good of others, and so to promote the peace and harmony oi society. To accomplish this with such a selfish being, it was necessary to give him some equivalent for the sacrifice he thus made ; and the principle of his nature which they fixed upon, for this purpose, was his love of praise. They made certain laws for the general First view which has been contended for? Second view? System of Mandeville? Mandeville's views of human character? His view of the object of human laws? SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 181 good, and then flattered mankind into the b^hef that it was praiseworthy to observe them, and noble to sacri- fice a certain degree of their own gratification for the good of others. What we call virtue thus resolves itself into the love of praise. In regard to such a sys- tem as this, it has been thought sufficient to point out the distinction between the immutable principles of morality and those arrangements which are dependent upon mere enactment. Such are many of the regula- tions and restrictions of commerce. They are intend- ed for the public good, and, while they are in force, it is the duty of every good citizen to obey them. A change of the law, however, changes their character, for they possess in themselves none of the qualities of merit or demerit. But no laws can alter, and no statutes modify, those great principles of moral conduct which are graved indelibly on the conscience ol all classes of men. Kings, it has been said, may make laws, but cannot create a virtue. By another modification of this system, our impres- sions of virtue and vice are said to be derived entirely from mutual compact. Men, finding that there was a certain course of action which would contribute to their mutual advantage, and vice versa, entered into an agreement to observe certain conduct, and abstain from certain other. The violation of this compact constituted vice, the observance of it virtue. By a theory, supported by some eminent men, as Clarke and Wollaston, virtue was considered to depend on a conformity of the conduct to a certain sense of the Into what principle does he resolve virtue ? Refutation of this system? Are the principles of virtue really independent of human laws ? ?>lodifica tion of this system ? Theory of Clarke and Wollaston ? 16 182 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART IIL fitness of tilings, or the truth of things. The mean- ing of this, it must be confessed, is rather obscure. It however, evidently refers the essence of virtue to a relation perceived by a process of reason ; and there- fore may be held as at variance with the belief of the impression being universal. According to the Theory of Utility^ as warmly sup- ported by Mr. Hume, we estimate the virtue of an action and an agent entirely by their usefulness. He seems to refer all our mental impressions to two princi- ples, reason and taste. Reason gives us simply the knowledge of truth or falsehood, and is no motive of action. Taste gives an impression of pleasure or pain; so constitutes happiness or misery, and becomes a motive of action. To this he refers our impressions of beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. He has, ac- cordingly, distinctly asserted that the words right and wrong signify nothing more than sweet or sour, plea- sant or painful, being only effects upon the mind of the spectator produced by the contemplation of certain con- duct, — and this, as we have already seen, resolves itself into the impression of its usefulness. An obvious objection to the system of utihty was, that it might be applied to the effects of inanimate matter as correctly as to the deeds of a voluntary agent. A printing-press or a steam-engine might be as meritorious as a man of extensive virtue. To obviate this, Mr. Hume was driven to a distinction, which in fact amounted to giving up the doctrine, namely, that the sense of utility Is its meaning clear? Objection to it? Hume's iheon'? To what two principles does he refer all our mental impressions? The province of rea- son? of taste? His idea of right and wrong? Obvious ohjcction to this system '? SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 183 must be combined with a feeling of approbation. This leads us back to the previous question, on what this feeling of approbation is founded, and at once recog- nises a principle, distinct from the mere perception of utility. Virtuous conduct may indeed always contri- bute to general utility, or general happiness; but this is an effect only, not the cause or the principle which constitutes it virtuous. This important distinction has been well stated by professor Mills of Oxford. He defines morality to be, " an obedience to the law and constitution of man's nature, assigned him by the Deity in conformity to his own essential and unchangeable attributes, the effect of which is the general happiness of his creatures. ''=^ We may safely assert, that what- ever is right is also expedient for man ; but the con- verse by no means follows, — that what is expedient, that is, what mankind think would be expedient, comes to be right. We come now to the Selfish System of morals, ac- cording to which the fundamental principle of the con- duct of mankind is a desire to promote their own gratification or interest. This theory has appeared in various forms, from a very early period in the history of ethical science ; but the most remarkable promoter of it in more modern times was Mr. Hobbes. Accor- ding to him, man is influenced entirely by what seems calculated; more immediately or more remotely, to promote his own interest; whatever does so he con * Lecture on the Theology of Moral Obligation. Oxford, 1830. Mr. Hume's mode of obviating this objection ? What is the true relalioi Df virtuous conduct to utility ? Professor Mills' definition of morality ? The Belftsh system ? Who has been the most distinguished promoter of it in modern times 7 184 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART III. siders as right, the opposite as wrong. He is driven to society by necessity, and then, whatever promotes the general good he considers as ultimately calcu later] to promote his own. This system is founded upon a fallacy, similar to that referred to under the former head. Virtuous conduct does impart gratification, and that of the highest kind ; and, in the strictest sense of the word, it promotes the true interest oT the agent; but this tendency is the effect, not the cause: and never can be considered as the principle which imparts to conduct its character of virtue ; nor do we perform it merely because it affords us gratification, or pro- motes our interest. The hypothesis, indeed, may bo considered as distinctly contradicted by facts ; for even in our own experience, it is clear, that the pleasure attending an act of generosity or virtue in ourselves, as well as our approbation of it in others, is diminish- ed or destroyed by the impression, that there was a selfish purpose to answer by it. There is a modification of the selfish system which attempts to get rid of its more offensive aspect by a singular and circuitous chain of moral emotions. We have experienced, it is said, that a certain attennon to the comfort or advantage of others contributes to our own. A kind of habit is thus formed, by which we come at last to seek the happiness of others for their own sake; so that, by this process, actions, which at first were considered only as inexpedient, from being opposed to self-love, at length and insensibly come to be considered as immoral. This can be considered as' His thoory. Author's reply to his views? What facts contraiUcl il .' :\ '.iKxIification of the selfish system ? Explain it in full. SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 185 nothing more than an ingenious play upon words^ and deserves only to be mentioned as a historical fact, in a view of those speculations by which this important subject has been obscured and bewildered. Another modification of the theories of morals re- mains to be mentioned ; namely, that of the distin- guished Pale}?". This eminent writer is decidedly opposed to the doctrine of a moral sense or moral principle ; but the system which he proposes to substi- tute in its place must be acknowledged to be liable to considerable objections. He commences with the pro- position that virtue is doing good to mankind, in obedience to the v/ill of God, and for the sake of ever- lasting happiness. The good of mankind, therefore, is the object, the will of God the rule, and everlasting happiness the motive of human virtue. The will of God, he subsequently goes on to show, is made known to us, partly by revelation, and partly by what we discover of his designs and dispositions from his works, or, as we usually call it, the light of nature. From this last source he thinks it is clearly to be inferred, that God wills and wishes the happiness of his crea- tures: consequently, actions which promote that will and wish must be agreeable to him, and the contrary. The method of ascertaining the will of God concerning any action, by the light of nature, therefore, is, to in- quire into the tendency of the action to promote or How this theory is to be considered? The last theory to be considered. whose ? Does he admit or deny a distinct moral sense ? The fundamental pnnciple in his system? What does he consider the object of human vir- tue ? what the rule ? what the motive '^ His reasoning from ihese premises ? 16=^ ISO THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PAKT llU,|j diminish general happiness. Proceeding on theso-jj grounds, he then arrives at the conchision, that wlial- . ever is expedient is right; and that it is the utihty of '^ any moral rule alone which constitutes the obligation. il, of it. In his farther elucidation of this theory, Dr. \] Paley admits, that an action may be useful, in an indi- , vidual case, which is not right. To constitute it right, it .ji is necessary that it shall be "expedient upon the wlioie, j, — at the long run, in all its effects, collateral and remote ^ as well as those which are immediate and direct." ' In presuming to offer a criticism upon Paley, I readi- ly concede to the defenders of his system, that it is not- ;| to be classed with the utilitarianism of Hume and ) Godwin ; and that it is not, correctly speaking, charge- able with selfishness, in holding out the happiness of a | future state as a motive to virtue. The latter part of his system is clearly countenanced by the sacred wri- tings ; and it does appear to be a stretch of language, to apply the term selfishness to the longing which the sincere Christian feels for the full enjoyment of God. In regard to the former part of his doctrine, again, it appears that Paley meant to propose the will of God as the rule or obligation of morals, and utility only as a criterion or guide; though it must be confessed that his language is liable to much misconstruction, and is repeatedly at variance with itself. The real objection to the doctrine of Paley, I apprehend, lies m his un- qualified rejection of the supreme authority of con- science, and in the mental operation which he substi- His conclusion? What is necessary, according to this theory, to rend' / an action right ? Points conceded by the author in respect to this system .' Fundamental objection to Paley's doctrine ? SEC. I.J THKOKIES 01- 3IOKALS. 187 tiites in its place, namely, a circuitous process of reasoning, in each individual, respecting the entire and ultimate expediency of actions. There are two con- siderations which appear to present serious objections to this part of the system as a doctrine to be applied to practical purposes. (1.) If we suppose a man delibe- rating respecting an action, which lie perceives would be eminently expedient and useful in an individual case, and which he feels to be higlily desirable in its immediate reference to that case; we may naturally ask, whether he is in a likely condition to find his way to a sound conclusion respecting the consequences of the action "upon the whole, at the long run, in all its consequences, remote and collateral." It may certain- ly be doubted whether, in any case, there is not great danger of differences of opinion arising respectmg this extended and ultimate expediency; and it musi be ad- mitted that, in the man now referred to, the very cir- cumstances of his perception of great and immediate utility, and the state of desire connected with it, would constitute a moral condition which might interfere, in a very material degree, with his calculation as to its ultimate expediency. Upon whatever system we pro- ceed, I fear it must be conceded as a fact, that there is a singular propensity in the mass of mankind to con- sider their own pains and pleasures before those of other men ; and this propensity must interfere with that cool course of moral calculation which the system of utility must consider as indispensable. (2.) Inde- pendently of this consideration, we may be allowed to Can this system be easily applied in practice 7 First great practical aifS euity 7 State it in full. 188 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. PART IIL- doubt, whether any human being can arrive at such^ an extensive knowledge, as this tlieory seems to reiidei necessary, of ail the consequences of an action, remote and collateral. This would appear to constitute a kiiic and a degree of knowledge to be found only in the omniscience of the Deity. It is, in fact, by giving itj full weight to this difficulty, that the doctrine of utility has been employed by some foreign writers, in their atteniDts to undermine the whole foundation of morals. "The goodness of actions," says Beausobre, in his Pyrrhonisme Raisonable, "depends upon their conse- quences, which man cannot foresee, nor accurately ascertain." What harmony, indeed, or what consis- tency of moral sentiment can we expect from a system, by which man himself is made the judge of the code of morals to which he is to be subject, and by which his decisions, on a question so momentous, are made to rest on those remote consequences of actions which he must feel to be beyond the reach of his limited faculties 7 If these observations be well-founded, I think we' cannot hesitate to maintain, that, on such a nice calcu- lation of consequences, it is impossible to found a rule of morals in any degree adapted to the necessities of: man. The same objection applies to every doctrine,, which does not recognise the supreme authority of conscience as an original part of our moral constitution* . warning us of certain conduct as immutably right, and! certain other conduct as immutably wrong, without i Second great practical difficulty ? Degree of knowledge necessarj' in order i to apply the system ? Beausohre's argument ? Result of the author's ohser- eations. What principle is it absolutely necessary to recognise n ever^ i moral theory ? hEL. I ] THEORIES OF MORALS. 189 any regard either to our own advantage, or to our judgment of the tendency of the deeds. Whenever we depart from this great principle, we reduce every moral decisioii to what must primarily be a process of reason- ing, ana m which, from the intricate calculation of con- sequences which necessarily arises, there can scarcely fail to be differences of opinion respecting the tendency of actions, instead of that absolute conviction which the deep importance of the subject renders indispensa- ble. It may, farther, be confidently stated as a matter of fact, that a conscientious man, in considering an action which involves a point of moral duty, does not enter upon any such calculation of its consequences. He simply asks himself, Is it right? and so decides, according to an impulse within, which he feels to be a part of his moral constitution, susceptible of no expla- nation, and not admitting of being referred to any other principle. I confess, indeed, that I cannot perceive how the doctrine of utility, in any of its forms, can be reconciled with the principle of moral responsibility. For what we commonly call vice and virtue must re- solve themselves merely into differences of opinion respecting what is most expedient in all its consequen- ces, remote and collateral. We have already alluded to the considerations which must make this decision one of extreme difficulty; and how can we ascribe moral guilt to that which, though in vulgar language we may call it vice, must very often be nothing more Consequence of departing from this principle ? Can men be expected to agree m any calculation of the consequences of actions ? Does a consci- entious man make any such calculation in estimating the moral character of actions ? To what must virtue and vice resolve themselves in all thLories of utUity 7 190 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART lUj than an error in judgment respecting this ultimate- good ? I In regard to the whole of this important suhject, I cannot see the necessity for the circuitous mental ope- rations which have been made to apply to it; nor can 1 enter into the repugnance, shown by various classes ^ of moralists, against the belief of a process or a princi- [ pie in our constitution, given us for a guide in oui moral relations. It is unnecessary to dispute about its name, or even about its origin ; for the former is of no importance, and of the latter we know nothing. The question relates simply to its existence as a mental exercise distinct from any process of reasoning, and the only criterion to which the question can be referred, is an appeal to the moral feelings of every individual. Is there not a mental movement or feeling, call it what we may, by which we have a perception of actions as just or unjust, right or wrong; and by which we expe- rience shame or remorse respecting our own conduct in particular instances, and indignation against the conduct of others 7 Every one is conscious of such a jnental exercise; and there are two considerations which, I think, may be referred to as moral facts, showing a clear and decided difference between it and any simple process of reasoning. (1.) I would ask whether, in deciding on his conduct, every man is not conscious of two classes of actions, in regard to which the processes of his mind differ widely from each other Does ihe author ihiiik there is any valid ohjoction to admitting a distinci principle in the constitution, hy which moral relations are recognised ? Has such a principle been objected to frequently ? Is its name of any great con sequence ? Have \re not a direct perception of the qualities of actions s: n^ht or wrong? Is this perception the result of any process of reasoning' SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 191 In deciditig respecting actions of the one class, he care- fully and anxiously deliberates on their tendencies, that is, their utility towards himself, or to others whose welfare he has in view ; and he reflects on what was his conduct in similar cases, on former occasions. In deciding respecting actions of the other class, he enters into no such calculations ; he feels an immediate im- pression that a certain course is right, and a certain other wrong,- without looking a single step into their tendencies. Every one is conscious of this difference between acting from a perception of utility, and from a feeling of obligation or a sense of duty ; and it would be diificult to prove that any perception of utility alone ever amounts to an actual obligation. (2.) In that class of actions to which is properly applied a calcula tion of utility, we see the most remarkable difference. in judgment manifested by men, whom we regard as holding a high place in respect both of integrity and talent. Let us take for example the measures of politi- cal economy. A conscientious statesman feels that he is bound to pursue measures calculated to promote the good of his country ; but the individual measures are often questions of expediency or utility. And what an endless diversity of judgment do we observe respecting them ; and how often do we find measures proposed by able men, as calculated to produce important public benefit, which others, of no inferior name, with equal confidence condemn as frivolous, or even dangerous. If there can be such a difference of opinion respecting First consideration showing the diiierence ? Remarks on tlie difference between calculating expediency and feeling moral obligatirn. Second con - sideratioa? Is the judgment formed by different men, m respect to tne ntility of actions, uniform ? Illustration. 92 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [P.ART HI.; one class of actions, we cannot avoid tne impression that there may be similar differences respecting others,! whenever the decision is left to a simple process of reason ; and we cannot but feel some misgivings as to what the state of human society would be, if men, in their moral decisions, were kept together by no other ties than the speculations of each individual respecting general utility. In any such process, we can see no provision for that uniformity of feeling required for the class of actions in which are concerned our moral de- cisions; and I can see nothing unphilosophical in the behef, that the Creator has provided, in reference to these, a part or a process in our moral constitution, which is incapable of analysis, but which proves, as Butler has termed it, " a rule of right within, to every man who honestly attends to it." To this view of the subject I would add only one consideration, which alone appears to present an insur- mountable objection to the doctrine of utility in all its modifications; namely, that any correct ideas of the utility of an action can be derived only from experi- ence. The study of the principles of morality, there- fore, would consist of a series of observations or experiments, by which valid conclusions might bo ascertained; and an individual, entering upon the momentous question, would require either to trust to the conclusions of others, or to make the observations and experiments for himself. In the former case, he If supposed utility was the standard of moral obligation, could there be uniformity amonsf men in respect to moral truth ? The author's conclusion? An msurmountahle olijcction to the doctrine of utility ? On this theory what would be the nature of the study of morals ? Difficulty in which eacn mdi- Tidual student would be placed ? SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 193 could not fail to perceive the precarious nature of the basis on which he was receiving principles of such weighty importance. He could not fail to remark, that, in other sciences, unsound and premature deduc- tions had been brought forward, even on high authori- ty, and allowed to usurp the place of truth. .. How is he to be satisfied, that, in this highest of all inquiries, similar errors had not been committed? To avoid such uncertainty, he may resolve to make the observations or experiments for himself, and to trust only to his own conclusions. But here he is met by another difficulty of appalling magnitude. For a lifetime may not suffice to bring the experiments to a close; and, during this, he must remain in the same uncertainty on the great principles of morals, as respecting the periods of a comet, which, having been seen for a day, darts off into its eccentric orbit, and may not return for a centu- ry. How can it accord with our convictions of the wisdom of Him who made us, that he should have made us thus 7 The foundation of all these theories of morals, then, se(ims to be the impression, that there is nothing right or wrong, just or unjust, in itself; but that our ideas of right and wrong, justice and injustice, arise either from actual law or mutual compact, or from our view of the tendencies of actions. Another modification of these theories, liable, as it is sometimes stated, to similar objection, ascribes the orfgin of right and wrong direct- Difficulty in the way of our taking the results of the observations of others l Difficulty in the way of each man's making the observations himself? Errf>- neous foundation of all the theories of morals thus far adverted to ? Ano- ther theory 7 17 194 THK ]\IORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART III ly to the will of the Deity, and holds that there is '' nothing wrong which might not have been right, if he ( had so ordained it. By the immutability of moral distinctions, as oppos- ed to these theories, we mean, that there are certain actions which are immutably right, and which we are bound in duty to perform, and certain actions which \i are immutably wrong, apart from any other conside- ration whatever; and, that an absolute conviction of this is fixed upon us in the moral principle or con- science, independently of knowledge derived from any t other source respecting the will or laws of the Almigh-, s ty. This important distinction has been sometimes c not unaptly expressed by saying of such actions, not ^ that rhey are right because the Deity has commanded them, but that he has commanded them because they are right. By this system, therefore, which refers our moral impressions to the supreme authority of con- science, a principle is disclosed, which, independently ^ even of revelation, not only establishes an absokite ^ conviction of the laws of moral rectitude, but leads us to the impression of moral responsibility and a moral Governor; and, as immediately flowing from this, a state of future retribution. We have already shown this to accord with the declarations of the sacred wri- tings, and it is evidently the only system on which we can account for that uniformity of moral sentiment ^ which is absolutely required for the harmonies of What implied in the immutahility of moral distinctions as maintained by the author 7 Mode in which this immulahility has been sometimes ex- pressed ? Ilesults of this system ? Phenomenon which can be accopnted. )i for only on this view ? SEC. I. J .HEOlllEb OF MORALS. 195 society. For it is, in fact, on a conviction of this feel- ing in ourselves, and of the existence of a similar and universal principle in others, that is founded all the mutual confidence which keeps mankind together. It is this reciprocity of moral feeling that proves a con- stant check upon the conduct of men in the daily transactions of hfe ; but, to answer this purpose, there is evidently required an impression of its uniformity, or a conviction that the actions which we disapprove in others, will be condemned in us by the unanimous decision of other men. It is equally clear that we have no such impression of a uniformity of sentiment oa any other subject, except on those referable to the class of first truths ; and this immediately indicates a marked distinction between our moral impressions, and any of those conclusions at which we arrive by a process of the understanding. It is clear, also, that this uniformi- ty can arise from no system, which either refers us directly to the will of God, or is liable to be afiected by the diiferences which may exist in the judgment, the moral taste, the personal feelings, or the interests of different individuals. It must be, in itself, fixed and immutable, conveying an absolute conviction which admits of no doubt and no difference of opinion. Such is the great principle of conscience. However its warnings may be neglected, and its influence obscured by passion and moral degradation, it still asserts its claim to govern the whole man. " Had it strength," says Butler, "as it had right; had it poAver, as it had Evidence that the standard of right and A»rong is universal ? Have we any such impression of such a uniformity of sentiment among men on any other subjects ? — in respect to what class of truths ? Inference from tliis 7 196 THE MOKAL PRINCIPLE. [PART IFtl manifest authorityj it would absolutely govern the' world." I In opposition to this belief of a uniformity of moral feeling, much importance has been attached to the practices of certain ancient and some barbarous na- tions, as the encouragement of theft in Sparta, and the. exposure of the aged among certain tribes in India. Such instances prove no diversity of moral feeling; but a difference of practice, arising from certain specialties, real or supposed, by which, in the particular cases, the influence of the primary moral feeling is, for the time, set aside. It is of no importance to the argument, whether the disturbing principle thus operating be the result of an absurd local policy or a barbarous supersti- tion. It is enough that we see a principle, which, in point of fact, does thus operate, suspending, in the particular instances, the primary moral impression. It was not that, in Sparta, there was any absence of the usual moral feeling in regard to theft in the ab- stract, but that the cultivation of habits of activity^ and enterprise, which arose from the practice, was considered as a national object of the highest impor- tance, in a small and warlike state, surrounded by powerful enemies. It is precisely in the same manncri that, in individual conduct, a man may be misled by, passion or by interest to do things which his sobefi judgment condemns. In doing so, there is no want rtf Butler's remark upon the power of conscience ? What argument has hocjx adduced against this view? Do these instances really prove a diversity of I moral feeling? Explanation of them? Was it really theft itself which wa» ' approved hy the Spartans ? What was the real object of their approhatioa c and cncourageiTVPut? Similar examples in common life ? SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 197 the ordinary moral feeling which influences other men; but he has brought himself to violate this feeling, for certain purposes which he finds to be highly desirable; and then, probably, seeks to defend his conduct to the satisfaction of his OAvn mind, and of the minds of others. He has a distinct perception of what is right, while he does what is wrong. There are numerous facts which illustrate the same principle, and show the recognition of correct moral feelings, even in those who habitually and daringly violate them; — as the laws of honor and honesty which robbers observe towards each other, and the remarkable fidelity of smugglers towards their associates. In some of the tribes in the South seas, also, most remarkable for their dishonesty, it was found, that while they encouraged each other in pillaging strangers, theft was most severely punished among themselves. Need I farther refer, on this sub- ject, to the line of argument adopted in the great ques- tion of slavery. It is directed to the palliating circum- stances in the actual state of slavery, not to a broad defence of slavery itself. Its object is to show, that slavery, under all its present circumstances, may be reconciled with the principles of humanity and justice: no attempt is ever made to prove, that it is consistent with these principles to tear a human being from his country and his kindred, and make him a slave. ^ On this subject we are sometimes triumphantly * See this subject eloquently argued in Dr. Chalmers' Bridge watei Trea- tise. Explanation of them. Example from the habits of thieves and smug- glers ? South sea savages ? / ^iment drawn from the mode in which slavery is defended ? 17# ■ 198 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART ni- '^ asked, Where is the conscience of the inquisitor? as if ? the moral condition of such an individual incontestably proved, tliat there can be no such power as we consider conscience to be. But T think it cannot be donbted, that, as in the more common cases which have been mentioned, the conscience of the inquisitor comes gradually to be accommodated to the circum.stances in which he has voluntarily placed himself. This re- markable moral process has been repeatedly referred to. It may originate in various causes. It may arise from passion, or an ill-regulated state of the desires or affections of the mind; it may arise from motives of interest, leading a man by small and gradual st^ps into actions which his sober judgment condemns: or false opinions, however received, may he allowed to fasten on the mind, until, from want of candid examination, they come to he invested with the authority of truth. In the moral process which follows, each single step is slight, and its influence almost imperceptible; but this influence is perpetuated, and gains strength in each succeeding step, until the result is a total derangement of the moral harmony of the mind. It remains only that we briefly notice the system of Dr. Adam Smith, commonly called the theory of Sym- pathy. According to this ingenious writer, it is requir- ed for our moral sentiments respecting an action, that we enter into the feelings both of the agent, and of him to whom the action relates. If we sympathize with Case of supposed difliculty ? Autlior's explanation of tlie moral state of the inquisitor? Vanous ways in which this process of moral deterioration may orig:inate ? Manner in which siu:h a process goes on ? One remaining theory to h« notice. 1 ; whose ? How desig'ualed ? FEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 199 the feelings and intentions of the agent, we approve of his conduct as right: if not, we consider it as wrong. If, in the individual to whom the action refers, we sympathize with a feeling of gratitude, we regard the agent as worthy of praise; if with a feeling of resent- ment, the contrary. We thus observe our feelings respecting the conduct of others, in cases in which we are not personally concerned, then apply these rules to ourselves, and thus judge of our own conduct. This very obvious statement, however, of Avhat every man feels, does not supply the place of a fundamental rule of right and wrong; and indeed Dr. Smith does not appear to contend that it does so. It applies only to the application of a principle, not to the origin of it. Our sympathy can never be supposed t( constitute an action right or wrong; but it enables us to apply to individual cases a principle of right and wrong derived from another source; and to clear our judgment in doing so from the blinding influence of those selfish feelings by which we are so apt to be misled when we apply it directly to ourselves. In estimating our ov/n conduct, we then apply to it those conclusions which we have made with regard to the conduct of others; or we imagine others applying the same process in regard to us, and consider how our conduct would appear to an impartial observer. This, however, is a most important principle in re- gard to our moral decisions, — namely, the process by Explain this theory. Remarks of the author on this theory ? Can our sympathy ever constitute an action right or wrong ? What is its true pro- rince ? Important process of mind arising from these principles ? 200 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART IH. | which we vi(;w an action, or a course of conduct, irn anotlier, and then apply the decision to ourselves | W lien the power of moral judgment is obscured otf; deadened in regard to our own conduct, by self-love or ' deranged moral habits, all the correctness of judgment IS often preserved respecting the actions of others. It is thus that men are led on by interest or passion into courses of action, which, if viewed calmly and dispas- • sionatcly, they would not deliberately defend even in themselves, and which, when viewed in others, tlicy promptly condemn. This principle is beautifully illus- trated in the sacred writings, when the prophet went to the king of Israel, and laid before him the hypotheti- cal case of a rich man, who had committed an act of gross and unfeeling injustice against a poor neighbor. The monarch was instantly roused to indignation, and pronounced a sentence of severe but righteous ven- geance against the oppiessor, when the prophet turned upon him with the solemn denunciation, "Thou art the man." His moral feeling in regard to his own conduct was dead; but his power of correct moral de- cision when applied to another was undiminished. In regard to the whole of this subject, an important distinction is to be made between the fundamental principle from which actions derive their character of right and wrong, and the application of reason in judg- ing of their tendencies. Before concluding this pari of the subject, therefore, we have to add a very few Which remains lonijest unimpaired, a correct moral judgment ui respect to our own conduct, or in re»!p !?rouiicl on which our evidence of these tmths rests ? T!ii> vs w iii w hicli Cine] is regarded hy the believer? by the unbeliever? PART IV. 1 TOWARDS THE DEITY. 249 bation of the soundest understanding, reveals, as we have seen, a dispensation of mercy, in accordance with the highest ideas wc can form of tiie divine perfections. It is supported by a chain of evidence, which carries conviction to the mind of the most rigid inquirer; and thus it is a sound and legitimate object of faith. It reveals also a provision for purifying the moral nature; and this in every case accompanies the dispensation of mercy to those who receive it. The effects of this powerful agency, therefore, become the test and the evidence of the reality of faith. Does a man seek a proof of his acceptance, — the reference is to facts in his own moral condition. He is to look for it in a change which is taking place in his character, — a new direction of his desires, a new regulation of his affec- tions, a habitual impression, to which he was a stran- ger before, of the presence and the perfections of the Deity, and a new light which has burst upon his view, respecting his relations to this life and to that which is to come. He is to seek this evidence in a mind which aims at no lower standard than that which will bear the constant inspection of infinite purity; he is to seek it, and to manifest it to others, in a spirit which takes no lower pattern than that model of perfection, the character of the Messiah. These acquirements, indeed, are looked upon, not as a ground of acceptance, but a test of moral condition: not as, in any degree, usurping the place of the great principle of faith, but as its fruits and evidences. As these, then, are the only proofs of Leading characteristics of this great system of Christian truth ? The onlj true test of faith 7 Where are we to look for evidences of its genuineness ? How are all moral acquirem,ents to be regarded, in respect to man's mors (oudition and prospects? 2.5G man's relation to the deity. [part r> the reality of tliis principle, so they are the only basis on which a man can rest any sound conviction of his moral aspect in the sight of the Deity; and that sys- tem is founded on delusion and falsehood, which, in tins respect, holds out any other ground of confidence than the purification of the heart, and a corresponding harmony of the whole character. Such attainment, indeed, is not made at once, nor is it ever made in a full and perfect manner in the present state of being; but, where the great principle has been fixed within, there is a persevering efl'ort, and a uniform contest, and a continual aspiration after conformity to the great model of perfection. Each step that a man gains in this progress serves to extend his view of the high pat- tern to which his eye is steadily directed; and as his knowledge of it is thus enlarged, he is led by compari- son to feel more and more deeply his own deficiency. It thus produces increasing humility, and an increasing sense of his own imperfection, and causes him continu- ally to feel, that, in this warfare, he requires a power which is not in man. But he knows also that this is provided, as an essential part of the great system on Avhich his hope i« established. Amid much weakness, therefore, and many infirmities, his moral improve- ment goes forward. Faint and feeble at first, as the earliest dawn of the morning, it becomes brighter and steadier as it proceeds in its course, and, "as the shining light, shineth more and more unto the perfect day." Nature of the moral procrress to lie made here? Effects of ii upon ih? h(=art '? Progress of it to ultimate perfection ? APPENDIX 2 THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION The following chapter from " Dymond's Essays on the Principles of Morality" contains views connected with this study of so grea* importance, that it was concluded to add it to this work. THE IMMEDIATE C03IML'NICATI0N OF THE WILL OF GOD. Conscionce — Its nature — Its authority — Review of opinions respecting a. moral sense — Bishop Butler — Lord Bacon — Lord Shaftesbury — Watts- Voltaire — Locke — Southey — Adam Smith — Paley — Rousseau — Miltou — Judge Hale — Marcus Aniouinus — Epicletus — Seneca — Paul — That every human boinjT possesses a moral law — Pajgrans — Gradations of light — Prophecy — The immediate communication of the Divine Will perpetual— Of national vices : Infanticide : Duelling — Of savage life. The reader is solicited to approach this subject with that mental seriousness which its nature requires. Whatever be his opinions upon the subject, whether he believes in the reality of such communication or not, he ought not even to think respecting it but with feelings of seriousness. In endeavouring to investigate this reality, it becomes espe- cially needful to distinguish the communication of the Will of God from those mental phenomena with which it has very commonly been intermingled and confotinded. The want of this distinction has occasioned a confusion which has been greatly injurious to the cause of truth. It has occasioned great obscurity of opinion respecting divine instruction; and by associating error with truth, has frequently induced scep- ticism respecting the truth itself. — When an intelligent person perceives that infaUihle truth or divine authority is described as belonging to the dictates of " Conscience," and when he perceives, as he must perceive, that these dictates are various and sometimes contradictory ; he is in danger of concluding that no unerring and no divine guidance is accorded to man. Upon this serious subject it is therefore peculiarly neces- sary to endeavour to attain distinct ideas, and to employ those words only which convey distinct ideas to other men. The first section of the present chapter will accordingly be devoted to some brief observations respecting the Conscience, its na- ture, and its authority ; by which it is hoped the reader will see sulficient reason to distinguish its dictates from that higher guidance, ros])ecting which it is the object of the present chapter to enquire. For a kindred purpose, it appears requisite to ofier a short review of popular and philosophical o])inions respecting a Moral Sense. These opinions will be found to have been frtiquently expressed in great indistinctness and ambiguity of language. The purpose of the writer in referring to tlie.*