oa ' 4 THE ELEMENTS MORAL SCIENCE. BY FRANCIS WAYLAND, D. D., PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY 1 , AND PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY. SIXTEENTH THOUASND. REVISED AND STEREOTYPED, BOSTON: GOULD, KENDALL, AND LINCOLN. SOLD BY THE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS THROUGHOUT THE UNITED STATES. 1841. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, BY FRANCIS WAYLAND, In the District Clerk's Office of the District Court of Rhode Island. PREFACE. IN presenting to the public a new treatise upon Moral Science, it may not be improper to state the circumstances which led to the undertaking, and the design which it is intended to accomplish. \^"When it became my duty to instruct in Moral Philosophy, in Brown University, the text-book in use was the work of Dr. Paley. From many of his principles I found myself compelled to dis- sent, and, at first, I contented myself with stating to my classes my objections to the author, and offering my views, in the form of familiar conver- sations, upon several of the topics which he dis- cusses. These views, for my own convenience, I soon committed to paper, and delivered, in the form of lectures. In a few years, these lectures had become so far extended, that, to my surprise, they contained, by themselves, the elements of a different system from that of the text-book which I was teaching. To avoid the inconvenience of teaching two different systems, I undertook to reduce them to order, and to make such addi- tions, as would render the work in some measure complete within itself. I thus relinquished the work of Dr. Paley, and, for some time, have PREFACE. been in the habit of instructing solely by lecture. The success of the attempt exceeded my expec- tations, and encouraged me to hope, that the publication of what I had delivered to my classes, might, in some small degree, facilitate the study of moral science From these circumstances the work has de- rived its character. Being designed for the pur- poses of instruction, its aim is, to be simple, clear, and purely didactic. I have rarely gone into ex- tended discussion, but have contented myself with the attempt to state the moral law, and the reason of it, in as few and as comprehensive terms as possible. The illustration of the princi- ples, and the application of them to cases in or- dinary life, I have generally left to the instructor, or to the student himself. Hence, also, I have omitted every thing which relates to the history of opinions, and have made but little allusion even to the opinions themselves, of those from whom I dissent. To have acted otherwise, would have extended the undertaking greatly be- yond the limits which I had assigned to myself; and it seemed to me not to belong to the design which I had in view. A work which should at- tempt to exhibit what was true, appeared to me more desirable than one which should point out what was exploded, discuss what was doubtful, or disprove what was false. In the course of the work, I have quoted but few authorities, as, in preparing it, I have refer- red to but few books. I make this remark in no manner for the sake of laying claim to originality, but to avoid the imputation of using the labors of PREFACE. 5 others without acknowledgment^ When I com- menced the undertaking, I attempted to read ex- tensively, but soon found it so difficult to arrive at any definite results, in this manner, that the necessities of my situation obliged me to rely upon my own reflection. That I have thus come to the same conclusions with many others, 1 should be unwilling to doubt. When this coinci- dence of opinion has come to my knowledge, I have mentioned it. When it is not mentioned, it is because I have not known it. i The author to whom I am under the greatest [obligations is Bishop Butler. The chapter on' Conscience is, as I suppose, but little more than a development of his ideas on the same subject. How much more I owe to this incomparable wri- ter, I know not. As it was the study of his ser- mons on human nature, that first turned my at- tention to this subject, there are, doubtless, many trains of thought which I have derived from him, but which I have not been able to trace to their source, as they have long since become incorpo- rated with my own reflections. The article on the Sabbath, as is stated in the text, is derived chiefly from the tract of Mr. J. J. Gurney, on the same subject. Entertaining those views of the Sacred Scriptures, which I have expressed in the work itself, it is scarcely necessary to add here, that I consider them the great source of moral truth ; and that a system of ethics will be true, just in proportion as it develops their meaning. To do this has been my object ; and to have, in ever so humble a manner, accomplished it, I shall consider as the greatest possible success. 1 * PREFACE. It is not without much diffidence, that 1 have ventured to lay before the public a work on this important subject. That something of this sort was needed, has long been universally confessed. My professional duty led me to undertake it; and I trust that the hope of usefulness has in- duced me to prepare it for publication. If I have not been so happy as to elucidate truth, have endeavored to express myself in such a manner, that the reader shall have as little trou- ble as possible in detecting my errors. And if it shall be found, that I have thrown any light whatever upon the science of human duty, I shall have unspeakable cause for gratitude to that Spirit, whose inspiration alone teacheth man un- derstanding. And my cause for gratitude will scarcely be less, should my failure incite some one, better able than myself to do justice to the subject, to a more successful undertaking. BROWN UNIVERSITY, April, 1835. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION A SECOND edition of the Elements of Moral Science having been demanded, within a much shorter period than was anticipated, I have given to the revisal of it all the attention which my avocations have permitted. The first edition, owing to circumstances which could not be foreseen, was, unfortunately, in several places, inaccurate in typographical exe- cution. I have endeavored, I hope with better success, to render the present edition, in this respect, less liable to censure. In a few cases, single words and modes of expression have also been changed. I have, however, confined myself to verbal corrections, and have, in no case that I remember, intentionally altered the sense. Having understood that the work has been introduced, as a text-book, into some of our highest seminaries of education, I hope that I may be forgiven, if I suggest a few hints as to the manner in which I suppose it may be most successfully used for this purpose. 8 PREFACE. 1. In the recitation room, let neither instructor nor pupil ever make use of the book. 2. Let the portion previously assigned for the exercise, be so mastered by the pupil, both in plan and illustration, that he will be able to re- cite it in order, and explain the connection of the different parts with each other, without the ne- cessity of assistance from his instructor. To give the language of the author is not, of course, desirable. It is sufficient if the idea be given. The questions of the instructor should have respect to principles that may be deduced from the text, practical application of the doctrines, objections which may be raised, &,c. 3. Let the lesson which was recited on one day, be invariably reviewed on the day succeed- ing. 4. As soon as any considerable progress has been made in the work, let a review from the beginning be commenced. This should com- prehend, for one exercise, as much as had been previously recited in two or three days ; and should be confined to a brief analysis of the argument, with a mere mention of the illustra- tions. 5. As soon as the whole portion thus far re- cited, has been reviewed, let a new review be commenced, and continued in the same manner ; and thus on successively, until the work is com- pleted. By pursuing this method, a class will, at any period of the course of study, be enabled, with the slightest effort, to recall whatever they have already acquired; and when the work is completed, they will be able to pursue the whole PREFACE. thread of the argument, from the beginning to the end ; and thus to retain a knowledge, not only of the individual principles, but also of their relations to each other. But the advantage of this mode of study is not confined to that of a more perfect knowl- edge of this or of any other book. By present- ing the whole field of thought at one view be- fore the mind, it will cultivate the power of pursuing an extended range of argument ; of examining and deciding upon a connected chain of reasoning ; and will, in no small degree, ac- custom the student to carry forward in his own mind a train of original investigation. I have been emboldened to make these sug- gestions, not in the least because I suppose the present work worthy of any peculiar attention from an instructor, but simply because, having been long in the habit of pursuing this method, and having witnessed its results in my own classes, 1 have thought it my duty to suggest it to those who are engaged in the same profession with myself. Other instructors may have suc- ceeded better with other methods. I have suc- ceeded best with this. At the suggestion of some of his friends, the author has it in contemplation to prepare a small abridgment of the present work, in duodecimo, for the use of schools and academies. It will be published as soon as his engagements will permit. BROWN UNIVERSITY, September, 1835. PREFACE FOURTH EDITION THE publishers having thought proper to give to the Elements of Moral Science a more permanent form, I have revised the work with all the care that my engage- ments would allow. In doing this, I have made many verbal alterations ; I have modified some paragraphs ; some I have transposed, and a few I have added. I embrace, with pleasure, this opportunity of returning my grateful acknowledgments to those gentlemen who, either privately or through the medium of the press, have favored me with their critical remarks. I have endeavored to weigh their suggestions with all the impartiality in my power. Where I have been convinced of error, I have altered the text. Where I have only doubted, I have suffer- ed it to remain ; as it seemed profitless merely to exchange one doubtful opinion for another. Where, notwithstanding the arguments advanced, my views remained unchanged, I have also contented myself with allowing the text to stand with- out additional remark. The reasons for so doing may be very briefly stated : I supposed that those considerations in favor of what I had advanced, which occurred to me, would naturally occur to any other person ; and I seem to myself to have observed that the public really take very little interest in the controversies of authors. A very con- siderable amount of manuscript, which I had prepared for the purpose of publication, in connection with this edition, I have therefore suffered to lie quietly in my desk. BROWN UNIVERSITY, January, 1837 CONTENTS PLAN OF THE WORK BOOK FIRST. THEORETICAL, ETHICS. CHAPTER FIRST. Page. Or THE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS, 23 SECTION I. Of Moral Law, 23 Of law in general, 23 Of moral law, 24 SECTION II. What is a moral Action ? 26 Of action, 26 Of moral action, 29 SECTION III. In what part of an Action do we discover its moral Quality f 30 The intention, 31 When is intention wrong ? 31 SECTION IV. IVJience do ice derive our Notion of the moral Quality of Actions? . . 33 Is it a modification of any other idea ? 33 Is it an exercise of the judgment ? . . . , 35 12 CONTENTS. Page. Is it derived from association ? 35 Is it derived from the idea of the greatest amount of happiness ? 36 General view of the subject, 44 CHAPTER SECOND. CONSCIENCE, OR THE MORAL SENSE,.. 49 SECTION I. Is there a Conscience ? 49 Question considered, 50 Objections answered, ^ 50 SECTION II. Of the Manner in which the Decision of Conscience is expressed, ... 53 Its discriminating power, 53 Its impulsive power, 54 A source of pleasure or of pain, 56 Illustrations, 57 SECTION III. The Authority of Conscience, 59 From the conceptions which we form of it, 60 By a comparison of the actions of men and inferior animals,. . . 61 From the necessity of thjs supremacy to the accomplishment of its object, : 63 SECTION IV. Law by which Conscience is governed, 71 As a discriminating power, 72 As an impulsive power, 74 As a source of pleasure or pain, 76 SECTION V. Rules for moral Conduct, 79 CHAPTER THIRD. THE NATURE OF VIRTUE, 85 SECTION 1. Of Virtue in general, 85 SECTION II. Of Virtue in imperfect Beings, 88 Limit of moral obligation, 89 Moral relations of habit, 96 CONTENTS. 13 CHAPTER FOURTH. Page. HUMAN HAPPINESS, ! The gratification of desire, 99 Within limits, 101 CHAPTER FIFTH. OF SELF-LOVE, 104 Nature of self-love, 104 Its relative rank, 107 I CHAPTER SIXTH. IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE; NECESSITY OF SOME ADDI- TIONAL MORAL LIGHT, Ill Imperfection of conscience, Ill Necessity of additional light, .4 113 What light might be expected, 115 CHAPTER SEVENTH. OF NATURAL RELIGION, 118 SECTION I. Of the Manner in which we learn our Duty ly the Light of Nature, 118 From general consequences, 119 Objection considered, 122 SECTION II. How far ice may learn our Duty by the Light of Nature, 125 Knowledge acquired in this manner, 125 Motives which it presents, 127 SECTION III. Defects of the System of Natural Religion, 129 From facts, 129 From the nature of the case, 131 CHAPTER EIGHTH. RELATIONS BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION,.... 134 What expectations to be entertained, 134 These are realized by revelation, 135 CHAPTER NINTH. THE HOLY SCRIPTURES,. 2 14 CONTENTS. SECTION I. Page. A View of the Holy Scriptures, . x 139 The Old Testament, 139 The New Testament, 141 SECTION II. fre wnat Manner are ice to ascertain our Duty by the Holy Scrip- tures ? 142 What is excluded, 144 What is included, 145 Our means of moral instruction, 147 BOOK SECOND. PRACTICAL ETHICS. . PART FIRST. LOVE TO GOD, OR PIETY. CHAPTER FIRST. GENERAL OBLIGATION TO SUPREME LOVE TO GOD, 154 Relation between God and Man, 154 Rights and obligations arising from this relation, 156 These suited to our nature, 165 CHAPTER SECOND. OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT, 167 CHAPTER THIRD. OF PRAYER, 172 Nature of prayer, 172 Kinds of prayer, 173 Duty of prayer, 174 " " from our condition, 174 " from the Scriptures, 1 The utility of prayer, 177 CONTENTS. 15 CHAPTER FOURTH. Page. OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH, 180 Original institution of the Sabbath, 180 The Mosaic Sabbath, 183 The Christian Sabbath, 185 The day to be observed, 185 The manner of its observance, 188 Duty of magistrates in respect to it,. 190 PART SECOND. DUTIES TO MAN. DIVISION FIRST. RECIPROCITY. DIVISION SECOND. BENEVOLENCE. DIVISION FIRST. RECIPROCITY. GENERAL PRINCIPLES ILLUSTRATED, AND THE DUTIES OF RE- CIPROCITY CLASSIFIED, , 192 Nature of human equality, '. 192 Subject illustrated, 193 Teaching of the Scriptures, 196 Classification of the duties of reciprocity, 200 CLASS FIRST. JUSTICE AND VERACITY. OF JUSTICE. CHAPTER FIRST. PERSONAL LIBERTY, SECTION 1. Nature of personal Liberty, 202 Physical Liberty, 203 Intellectual Liberty, 204 Religious Liberty, '. 206 Exceptions, 206 16 CONTENTS. SECTION II. Page. Modes in which personal Liberty may be violated, 208 By the individual, as in domestic slavery, 208 Its nature and effects, 209 Doctrine of the Scriptures, 211 Duties of masters, 216 Duties of slaves, 218 Personal liberty violated by society, 218 Violation of physical liberty, 219 Violation of intellectual liberty, 220 Violation of religious liberty, 227 CHAPTER SECOND. JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS PROPERTY, 231 SECTION I. The Right of Property, 231 Definition, 231 On what the right of property is founded, 231 Modes in which the right of property may be acquired, 234 SECTION II. Modes in which the Right of Property may be violated by the Indi- vidual, 238 Without consent, 1. Theft. 2. Robbery, 239 By consent fraudulently obtained, 240 (a.) Where no equivalent is offered, 240 (6.) Where the equivalent is different from what it purports to be, 240 1. Where the equivalent is material, and the transfer perpetual, 240 The law of buyer and seller, 240 2. When the transfer is temporary, 245 Interest or loan of money,. 245 Loan of other property, 249 Insurance, 250 3. Where the equivalent is immaterial, 251 Of master and servant, 251 Of principal and agent, 252 Of representatives, 255 SECTION III. Right of Property as violated by Society, 256 CHAPTER THIRD. JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER, 260 Nature of the obligation, 260 Violated by weakening the moral restraints of men, 262 Violated by exciting their evil dispositions, 263 CONTENTS. 17 CHAPTER FOURTH. Page. JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION, 266 Nature of the obligation, 266 Giving publicity to bad actions, 268 Unjust conclusions respecting character, 269 Assigning bad motives unnecessarily, 269 Ridicule and mimicry, 270 Our duty to reveal the bad actions of others, 273 Our duty to promote the ends of public justice,. 273 Our duty to protect the innocent, and for the good of the of- fender, 273 Duty of historians, 274 Duty of the public press, 275 OF VERACITY. CHAPTER FIRST. VERACITY OF THE PAST AND PRESENT, 278 Law of veracity, 278 What it forbids, 278 Necessity of such a law,. 281 CHAPTER SECOND. VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE, 284 Of promises, 284 Their intention and obligation, 284 When promises are not binding, 285 Of contracts, 287 CHAPTER THIRD. OF OATHS, 290 The theory of oaths, 290 Lawfulness of oaths, 292 Interpretation of oaths, 293 Different kinds of oaths, .293 CLASS SECOND. DUTIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE SEXES,. 295 CHAPTER FIRST. GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY, 297 What this moral law forbids, 297 What it commands, exclusive union, 296 union for life, 300 Precepts of religion on this subject, 302 18 CONTENTS. CHAPTER SECOND. Page. Tin: LAW OK MARRIAGE, 305 The nature of the contract, 305 Duties imposed by the contract, 308 Chastity, 308 Mutual affection, 309 Mutual assistance, 310 Relation of parties as to authority, 311 CHAPTER THIRD. THE LAW OF PARENTS, 314 Relation of the parties to each other, 314 Duties of parents, 316 Support or maintenance, 316 Physical education, 317 Intellectual education, . . , 318 Moral education, 320 Rights of parents, 324 Duration of these rights, 324 Of instructors, 325 CHAPTER FOURTH. THE LAW OF CHILDREN, 326 Duties of children, 326 Obedience, 326 Reverence, 328 Filial affection, 328 Necessary maintenance, 329 Rights of children, 329 Duration of these rights and obligations, 329 Duties of pupils, 329 CLASS THIRD. DUTIES TO MAN, AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY, 333 CHAPTER FIRST. OF CIVIL SOCIETY, 334 SECTION I. Of a Simple Society, 334 Nature of the contract, 334 Manner in which governed, 336 Limits of the power of a majority, 336 Durability of corporations, 337 CONTENTS. 19 SECTION II. Page. Of Civil Society. 339 Civil society an institution of God, 340 Conclusions from the above, 342 Of the nature and limitations of civil society, 344 Of what is essential to civil society, 345 The compact entered into by the individual and scciety, 346 Of the accidental modifications of civil society, 350 CHAPTER SECOND. OF THE MODE IN AVHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE COMPLISIIED, v The parts of a government^ What form of government is preferable, 356 CHAPTER THIRD. DUTIES OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT, 358 Of legislative officers, 358 Of judicial officers, 360 Of executive officers, 361 CHAPTER FOURTH DUTIES OF CITIZENS, 363 As individuals, 363 As constituent members of society, 364 When the compact is violated, 366 DIVISION SECOND. THE LAW OF BENEVOLENCE. CHAPTER FIRST GENERAL OBLIGATION, AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT, 369 Nature and proof of the obligation from our constitution, 369 Proof from the Holy Scriptures, 371 CHAPTER SECOND. BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAPPT, 376 SECTION I. Unhappiness from physical condition, 376 Objects of charity, 376 Laws affecting the recipient, 377 20 CONTENTS. Page. Laws affecting the benefactor, x . 378 Poor laws, 379 Voluntary associations, 380 SECTION II. Unhappiness from intellectual condition, 382 CHAPTER THIRD BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED, 386 CHAPTER FOURTH. BENEVOLENCE TO THE INJURIOUS, 389 Injury committed by an individual against an individual, 389 Injury committed by an individual against society, 391 Injury committed by a society against a society, 392 Of war, . 392 NOTE. Duties to Brutes, 397 BOOK FIRST. THEORETICAL ETHICS THEORETICAL ETHICS. CHAPTER FIRST. OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS. SECTION I. OP MORAL LAW ETHICS, or Moral Philosophy, is the Science of Moral Law. The first question which presents itself is, What is moral law ? Let us then inquire, first, what is law ; and, secondly, what is moral law. By the term law, I think, we generally mean a form of expression, denoting either a mode of existence, or an order of sequence. Thus, the first of Sir Isaac Newton's laws, namely, that every body will continue in a state of rest, or of uniform motion in a right line, unless compelled by some force to change its state, denotes a mode of existence. The third law of motion, that, to every action of one body upon another, there is an equal and contrary reaction, denotes an order of sequence ; that is, it declares the gen- eral fact, that, if one event occur, the constitution of things under which we exist, is such, that another event will also occur. The axioms in Mathematics are laws of the same kind. 24 OF MORAL LAW. Thus, the axiom, " if equals be added to equals, the wholes will be equal," denotes an order of sequence, in respect to quantity. Of the same nature are the laws of Chemistry. Such, for instance, is the law that, if soda be saturated with muri- atic acid, the result will be common salt. Thus, also, in Intellectual Philosophy. If a picture of a visible object be formed upon the retina, and the impres- sion be communicated, by the nerves, to the brain, the result will be an act of perception. The meaning of law, when referring to civil society, is substantially the same. It expresses an established order of sequence between a specified action, and a particular mode of reward or of punishment. Such, in general, is the meaning of law. Moral Philosophy takes it for granted that there is in human actions a moral quality ; that is, that a human action may be either right or wrong. Every one knows that we may contemplate the same action as wise or unwise; as courteous or impolite ; as graceful or awkward ; and, also, as right or wrong. It can have escaped the observation of no one, that there are consequences distinct from each other, which follow an action, and which are connected, respectively, with each of its attributes. To take, for instance, a moral quality. Two men may both utter what is false ; the one intending to speak the truth, the other intending to deceive. Now, some of the consequences of this act are common to both cases, namely, that the hearers may, in both cases, be deceived. But it is equally man- ifest, that there are also consequences peculiar to the case in which the speaker intended to deceive ; as, for example, the effects upon his own moral character, and upon the estimation in which he is held by the community. And thus, in general, Moral Philosophy proceeds upon the sup- position that there exists in the actions of men a moral quality, and that there are certain sequences connected by our Creator with the exhibition of that quality. A moral law is, therefore, a form of expression denoting an order of sequence established between the moral quality of actions, and their results. OF MORAL LAW. 25 Moral Philosophy, or Ethics, is the science which classi- fies and illustrates moral law. Here it may be worth while to remark, that an order of sequence established, supposes, of necessity, an Establisher. Hence Moral Philosophy, as well as every other science, proceeds upon the supposition of the existence of a universal cause, the Creator of all things, who has made every thing as it is, and who has subjected all things to the relations which they sustain. And hence, as all relations, whether moral or physical, are the result of His enactment, an order of sequence once discovered in morals, is just as invariable as an order of sequence in physics. Such being the fact, it is evident, that the moral laws of God can never be varied by the institutions of man, any more than the physical laws. The results which God has connected with actions, will inevitably occur, all the created power in the universe to the contrary notwithstanding. Nor can these consequences be eluded or averted, any more than the sequences which follow by the laws of grav- itation. What should we think of a man who expected to leap from a precipice, and, by some act of sagacity, elude the effect of the accelerating power of gravity? or, of another, who, by the exercise of his own will, determined to render himself imponderable ? Every one who believes God to have established an order of sequences in morals, must see that it is equally absurd, to expect to violate, with impunity, any moral law of the Creator. Yet men have always flattered themselves with the hope that they could violate moral law, and escape the conse- quences which God has established. The reason is obvious. In physics, the consequent follows the antecedent, often immediately, and most commonly after a stated and well known interval. In morals, the result is frequently long delayed ; and the time of its occurrence is always uncertain. Hence, " because sentence against an evil work is not exe- cuted speedily, therefore the hearts of the sons of men are fully set in them to do evil." But time, whether long or short, has neither power nor tendency to change the ord 3r of an established sequence. The time required for vege- tation, in different orders of plants, may vary; but yet 3 26 OF MORAL ACTION. wheat will always produce wheat, and an acorn will always produce an oak. That such is the case in morals, a heathen poet has taught us : Raro, antecedentem scelestum Deseruit, pede poena claudo. HOR. Lib. 3. Car. 2. A higher authority has admonished us, " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked ; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." It is also to be remembered, that, in morals as well as in physics, the harvest is always more abundant than the seed from which it springs. SECTION II. WHAT IS A MORAL ACTION? Action, from actum, the supine of the Latin verb ago, I do, signifies something done ; the putting forth of some power. But under what circumstances must power be put forth, in order to render it a moral action ? 1. A machine is, in common conversation, said to be powerful. A vegetable is said to put forth its leaves, a tree to bend its branches, or a vine to run towards a prop ; but we never speak of these instances of power, as actions. 2. Action is never affirmed, but of beings possessed of a will ; that is, of those in whom the putting forth of power is immediately consequent upon their determination to put it forth. Could we conceive of animate beings, whose exertions had no connection with their will, we should not speak of such exertions as actions. 3. Action, so far as we know, is affirmed only of beings possessed of intelligence ; that is, who are capable of com- prehending a particular end, and of adopting the means necessary to accomplish it. An action is something done ; that is, some change effected. But man effects change, OF MORAL ACTION. 27 only by means of stated antecedents. An action, there- fore, in such a being, supposes some change in view, and some means employed for the purpose of effecting it. We do not, however, affirm this as essential. Suppose a being so constituted as to be able to effect changes with- out the use of means ; action would then not involve the necessity of intelligence, in the sense in ivhich it is here explained. All that would be necessary, would be the previous conception of the change which he intended to effect. 4. All this exists in man. He is voluntary and intelli- gent, capable of foreseeing the result of an exertion of power, and that exertion of power is subject to his will. This is sufficient to render man the subject of govern- ment. He can foresee the results of a particular action, and can will, or not will, to accomplish it. And other results can be connected with the action, of such a nature, as to influence his will in one direction or in another. Thus, a man may know that stabbing another will produce death. He has it in his power to will or not to will it. But such other consequences may be connected by society with the act, that, though on many accounts he would desire to do it, yet, on other and graver accounts, he would prefer not to do it. This is sufficient to render man a subject of government. But is this all that is necessary to constitute man a moral agent ; that is, to render him a subject of moral government ? May not all this be affirmed of brutes ? Are they not voluntary, and even, to some extent, intelligent agents ? Do they not, frequently, at least, comprehend the relation of means to an end, and voluntarily put forth the power necessaiy for the accomplishment of that end? Do they not manifestly design to injure us, and also select the most appropriate means for effecting their purpose ? And can we not connect such results with their actions, as shall influence their will, and prevent or excite the exercise of their power ? We do this, whenever we caress or intirai date them, to prevent them from injuring us, or to excite them to labor. They are, then, subjects of government, as truly as man. 28 OF MORAL ACTION. Is there, then, no difference between the intelligent and voluntary action of a brute, and the moral action of a man ? Suppose a brute and a man both to perform the same action ; as, for instance, suppose the brute to kill its offspring, and the man to murder his child. Are these actions of the same character ? Do we entertain the same feelings towards the authors of them ? Do we treat the authors in the same manner, and with the design of pro- ducing in them the same result ? I think no one can answer these questions in the affir- mative. We pity the brute, but we are filled with indig- nation against the man. In the one case, we say there has been harm done ; in the other, injury committed. We feel that the man deserves punishment : we have no such feeling towards the brute. We say that the man has done wrong; but we never affirm this of the brute. We may attempt to produce in the brute such a recollection of the offence, as may deter him from the act in future ; but we can do no more. We attempt, in the other case, to make the man sensible of the act as wrong, and to produce in him a radical change of character ; so that he not only would not commit the crime again, but would be inherently averse to the commission of it. These considerations are, I think, sufficient to render it evident, that we perceive an element in the actions of men, which does not exist in the actions of brutes. What is this element? If we should ask a child, he would tell us that the man knows better. This would be his mode of explaining it. But what is meant by knowing better? Did not the brute and the man both know that the result of their action would be harm ? Did not both intend that it should be harm ? In what respect, then, did the one know better tnan the other ? 1 think that a plain man or a child would answer, the man Jcneiv that he ought not to do it, and that the brute did not know that he ought not to do it ; or he might say, the man knew, and the brute did not know, that it was wrong ; but whatever terms he might employ, they would OF MORAL ACTION. 29 involve the same idea. I do not know that a philosopher could give a more satisfactory answer. If the question, then, be asked, what is a moral action ? we may answer, it is the voluntary action of an intelligent agent, who is capable of distinguishing between right and wrong, or of distinguishing what he ought, from what he ought not, to do. It is, however, to be remarked, that, although action is defined to be the putting forth of power, it is not intended to be asserted, that the moral quality exists only where power is actually exerted. It is manifest, that our thoughts and resolutions may be deserving either of praise or of blame ; that is, may be either right or wrong, where they do not appear in action. When the will consents to the performance of an action, though the act be not done, the omniscient Deity justly considers us as either virtuous or vicious. From what has been said, it may be seen that there exists, in the actions of men, an element which does not exist in the actions of brutes. Hence, though both are subjects of government, the government of the one should be constructed upon principles different from that of the other. We can operate upon brutes only by fear of pun- ishment, and hope of reward. We can operate upon man, not only in this manner, but, also, by an appeal to his con- sciousness of right and wrong ; and by the use of such means as may improve his moral nature. Hence, all modes of punishment which treat men as we treat brutes, are as unphilosophical as they are thoughtless, cruel and vin- dictive. Such are those systems of criminal jurisprudence, which have in view nothing more than the infliction of pain upon the offender. The leading object of all such systems should be to reclaim the vicious. Such was the result to which all the investigations of Howard led. Such is the improvement which Prison Discipline Societies are laboring to effect. And it is worthy of remark, that the Christian precept respecting the treatment of injuries, proceeds precisely upon this principle. The New Testament teaches us to love our enemies, to do good to those that hate us, to over- 3* 30 IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE come evil with good ; that is, to set before a man who does wrong, the strongest possible exemplification of the opposite moral quality, right. Now, it is manifest, that nothing would be so likely to show to an injurious person the tur- pitude of his own conduct, and to produce in him self- reproach and repentance, as precisely this sort of moral exhibition. Revenge and retaliation might, or might not, prevent a repetition of the injury to a particular individual. The requiting of evil with good, in addition to this effect, has an inherent tendency to produce sorrow for the act, and dislike to its moral quality ; and thus, by producing a change of character, to prevent the repetition of the offence under all circumstances hereafter. SECTION III. IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE DISCOVER ITS MORAL QUALITY? In a deliberate action, four distinct elements may be commonly observed. These are 1. The outward act, as when I put money into the hands of another. 2. The conception of this act, of which the external performance is the mere bodying forth. 3. The resolution to carry that conception into effect. 4. The intention, or design, with which all this is done. Now, the moral quality does not belong to the external act ; for the same external act may be performed by two men, while its moral character is, in the two cases, entirely dissimilar. Nor does it belong to the conception of the external act, nor to the resolution to carry that conception into effect ; for the resolution to perform an action can have no other character than that of the action itself. It must, then, reside in the intention. DISCOVER ITS MORAL QUALITY ? 31 That such is the fact, may be illustrated by an example. A and B both give to C a piece of money. They both conceived of this action before they performed it. They both resolved to do precisely what they did. In all this, both actions coincide. A, however, gave it to C, with the intention of procuring the murder of a friend ; B, with the intention of relieving a family in distress. It is evident that, in this case, the intention gives to the action its char- acter as right or wrong. That the moral quality of the action resides in the inten- tion, may be evident from various other considerations. 1. By reference to the intention, we inculpate or excul- pate others, or ourselves, without any respect to the hap- piness or miseiy actually produced. Let the result of an action be what it may, we hold a man guilty simply on the ground of intention, or, on the same ground, we hold him innocent. Thus, also, of ourselves. We are conscious of guilt or of innocence, not from the result of an action, but from the intention by which we were actuated. 2. We always distinguish between being the instrument of good, and intending it. We are grateful to one who is the cause of good, not in the proportion of the amount effected, but of the amount intended. Intention may be wrong in various ways. As, for instance, first, where we intend to injure another, as in cruelty, malice, revenge, deliberate slander. Here, however, it may be remarked, that we may intend to inflict pain, without intending wrong ; for we may be guilty of the violation of no right. Such is the case, when pain is inflicted for the purposes of justice ; for it is mani- fest, that, if a man deserve pain, it is no violation of right to inflict it. Hence we see(the difference between harm, injury, and punishment. We harm another when we act- ually inflict pain ; we injure him when we inflict pain in violation of his rights ; we punish him when we inflict pain which he deserves, and to which he has been properly adjudged and, in so doing, there is, therefore, a violation of no right. 2. Intention is wrong, where we act for the gratification of our own passions, without any respect to the happiness 32 IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION, ETC. of others. Such is the case of seduction, ambition, and, in nations, commonly, of war. Every man is bound to restrain the indulgence of his passions within such limits, that they will work no ill to his neighbor. If they actually inflict injury, it is no excuse to say that he had no ill will to the individual injured. The Creator never conferred on him the right to destroy another's happiness for his own gratifi- cation. 3. As the right and wrong of an action reside in the intention, it is evident, that, where an action is intended, though it be not actually performed, that intention is worthy of praise or blame, as truly as the action itself, provided the action itself be wholly out of our power. Thus God re- warded David for intending to build the temple, though he did not permit him actually to build it. So, he who intends to murder another, though he may fail to execute his pur- pose, is, in the sight of God, a murderer. The meditation upon wickedness with pleasure, comes under the same con- demnation. 4. As the right or wrong exists in the intention, wherever a particular intention is essential to virtuous action, the performance of the external act, without that intention, is destitute of the element of virtue. \_ Thus, a child is bound to obey his parents, with the intention of thus manifesting his love and gratitude. If he do it from fear, or from hope of gain, the act is destitute of the virtue of filial obedience, and becomes merely the result of passion or self-interest. And thus our Savior charges upon the Jews the want of the proper intention, in all their dealings with God. " I know you," said he, " that ye have not the love of God in you." ' And, again, it is manifest, that our moral feelings, like our taste, may be excited by the conceptions of our own imagination, scarcely less than by the reality. These, therefore, may develop moral character. He who medi- tates, with pleasure, upon fictions of pollution and crime, whether originating with himself or with others, renders it evident that nothing but opposing circumstances prevents him from being himself an actor in the crime which he loves. And still more, as the moral character o f an action WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION, ETC. 33 resides in the intention, and as whatever tends to corrupt the intention must be wrong, the meditating with pleasure upon vice, which has manifestly this tendency, must be wrong also. And here let me add, that the imagination of man is the fruitful parent both of virtue and vice. Thus saith the wise man, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." No man becomes openly a villain, until his imagination has become familiar with conceptions of villany. The crimes which astonish us by their atrocity, were first arranged, and acted, and reacted, in the recesses of the criminal's own mind. Let the imagination, then, be most carefully guarded, if we wish to escape from tempta- tion, and make progress in virtue. Let no one flatter him- self that he is innocent, if he love to meditate upon any thing which he would blush to avow before men, or fear to unveil before God. SECTION IV. WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? To this question several answers have been given. Some of them we shall proceed to consider. 1. Is our notion of right and wrong a modification of any other idea ? The only modifications of which an idea is susceptible, are, first, that of greater or less vividness of impression., or, secondly, that of simplicity or of composition. Thus, the quality of beauty may impress us more or less forcibly, in the contemplation of different objects ; or, on the other hand, the idea of beauty may be simple, or else combined, in our conceptions, with the idea of utility. Now, if our notion of right and wrong be a modification of some other idea, in the first sense, then one degree of 34 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF the original quality will be destitute of any moral element, and another degree of it will possess a moral element ; and, by ascending higher in the scale, it may at last lose all its original character, and possess another, having no remains of resemblance to itself. This would be to say, that a quality, by becoming more intense, ceased to be itself; as if a triangle, by becoming more perfect as a triangle, at last became a square. Thus, if it be said, that the idea of right and wrong is a modification of the idea of beauty, then the same object, if beautiful in one degree, would have no moral quality ; if beautiful in another degree, would begin to be virtuous ; and, if beautiful in the highest degree, would cease to be beautiful, and be purely virtuous or holy. What meaning could be attached to such an affirmation, I am not able to discover. The other meaning of a modification of an idea, is, that it is compounded with some other idea. Now, suppose our notion of light and wrong to be a modification in this latter sense. Then this notion either enters into the original ele- ments of the compound idea, or it does not. If it does, then it is already present ; and this supposition does not account for its, existence. If it does not enter into the ele- ments of the compound idea, then these elements must exist either merely combined, but each possessing its original character, in which combination the moral idea is not in- volved ; or else they must lose their original character, and be merely the stated antecedents to another idea, which is an idea like neither of them, either separately or combined. In this latter case, it is manifest, that the consequent of an antecedent is no modification of the antecedent, but an entirely different subject, coming into existence under these particular circumstances, and in obedience to the laws of its own organization. Do we 'ever term a salt a modifica- tion of an acid, or of an alkali, or of an acid and alkali united ? Is the explosive power of gunpowder a modifica- tion of the spark and the gunpowder? We think, then, it may be safely concluded, that the notion of right and wrong is not a modification of any other idea. If any one assert, that this idea universally ensues upon the combination of two other ideas, it will become him to show THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 35 what those two ideas are, neither of which involves the notion of right and wrong, but upon the combination of which, this notion always arises, while the original elements which precede it, entirely disappear. 2. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived from an exercise of the judgment ? Judgment is that act of the mind, by which, a subject and a predicate being known, we affirm, that the predicate belongs to the subject. Thus, he who knows what grass is, and what green is, may affirm that grass is green. But in this act of the mind, the notion of the two things of which the affirmation is made, must exist before the act of judgment can be exerted. A man who had no notion either of grass, or of green, could never affirm the one of the other. And so of any other instance of this act. A man who had no notion of right or of wrong, could never affirm either quality of any subject ; much less could he, by this faculty, acquire the original idea. And thus, in gene- ral, the judgment only affirms a relation to exist between two notions which previously existed in the mind ; but it can give us no original notions of quality, either in morals or in any thing else. 3. Is^ouf-jiQtion of the moral quality of actions derived from The term association is used to designate two habits of mind considerably alike. The first is that, by which the sight or rgcojlection pf one object calls to rftr.nllftr.tion some , to which it stands in some particular relation. Thus, the sight of a hearse may recall to recollection the death of a friend ; or the sound of his native language, in a foreign country, may awaken in the breast of an exile all the recollections of home. The second case is, where a /}y particular emotion, belonging to one train of circoomstaiices, is awakened by another, with which it has. na. .necessary connection ; and this first emotion comes at last to be awakened by the accidental, instead of by the necessary, antecedent. Thus, the countenance of a person may be suited to awaken no emotion of pleasure in itself; but, if I become acquainted with him, and am pleased with his moral and intellectual character, a degree of pleasure is, at 36 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION last, excited by his countenance, which, in the end, appears to me agreeable, or, it may be, beautiful. Now, in both these cases, it is evident that no new idea is gained. In the one case, a well known idea is revived ; in the other, two known ideas are connected in a new re- lation ; but this is all. Association is the faculty by which we transfer; but we can transfer nothing which did not previously exist. We could never use the idea of right and wrong by association, unless we had already acquired it. In the acts of judgment and association, therefore, as the existence of the notion must be presupposed, neither of these acts will account for the origin of the notion itself. 4. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived from the idea of the greatest amount of happiness ? Thus, it is said, that our notion of right and wrong is derived from our idea of productiveness of happiness, or, in other words, that an action is right or wrong because it is pro- ductive or not productive of the greatest amount of happiness. When the affirmative of this question is asserted, it is, I presume, taken for granted, that the idea of right and wrong, and of productiveness of the greatest amount of hap- piness, are two distinct ideas. If they be not, then one cannot be derived from the other ; for nothing can correctly be said to be a cause of itself. We shall, therefore, con- sider them as different ideas, and inquire, in what sense it is true that the one is the cause of the other. When we speak of two events in nature, of which one is the cause of the other, we use the word cause in one of the two following senses. First, we use it to denote stated antecedency merely ; as when we say that sensation is the CflM*e~'6f perception, or, that a man perceives an external object, because an impression is made upon an organ of sense. Secondly, we use it to signify that the event or change of which we speak may be referred to some law or fact, more general than itself. We say, in other words, that the fact in question is a species under some genus, with which it agrees as to generic qualities ; and from which it is distinguished by its specific differences. Thus, when asked why a stone falls to the earth, we reply, because all matter is reciprocally attractive to all other matter. This is the generic OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 37 fact, under which the fact in question is to be comprehended ; and its specific difference is, that it is a particular form of matter, attracted by a particular form of matter, and prob- ably unlike the matter of the planets, the comets, or the sun. First. When it is said that an action is right, because it is productive of the greatest amount of happiness, suppose because to be used in the first of these senses. It will then mean, that we are so constituted, that the idea of the great- est amount of happiness is always the stated antecedent to the idea of right, or moral obligation. Now, this is a ques- tion purely of fact. It does not admit of a reason a priori. And, if it be the fact, it must be the universal fact ; that is to say, this consequent must always, under similar con- ditions, be preceded by this antecedent, and this antecedent be followed by this consequent. 1. To facts, then, let us appeal. Is it a fact, that we are conscious of the existence of this connection ? When we are conscious that an act is right, is this consciousness preceded by a conviction that this action will be productive of the greatest amount of happiness ? When we say it is wrong to lie or to steal, do we find this consciousness pre- ceded by the notion, that lying or stealing will not produce the greatest amount of happiness ? When we say that a murderer deserves death, do we find this notion preceded by the other, that murder will not produce the greatest amount of happiness, and that putting a murderer to death will produce it? When we say that a man ought to obey God, his Creator and Preserver, do we find this conviction preceded by the other that the exercise of this affection will produce the greatest amount of happiness ? Now, I may have greatly mistaken the nature of moral affections ; but I am much deceived if many persons will not be found, who will declare, that, often as they have formed these judgments, the idea of the greatest amount of happiness never acruaily entered into their conception. 2. Or, take the case of children. When you would im- press upon a child the duty of obeying its parents, or of loving God, do you begin by explaining to it the idea of the greatest amount of happiness? Are we obliged to make use of this antecedent, in order to produce this con- 4 33 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION sequcnt ? If so, it surely would take a much longer time than is actually required, to produce in a child any moral sensihility. Do we not find children, well instructed into the consciousness of right and wrong, who could not be made to comprehend the notion of the greatest amount of happiness ? 3. How do we attempt to arouse the consciences of the heathen? When we tell them that they ought to obey God, and believe on Jesus Christ, do we begin by explain- ing to them that this course of life will produce the greatest amount of happiness? Suppose we could never arouse them to duty, until we had produced a conviction of the amount of happiness which would result to the universe from piety, would a single one of them ever listen to us long enough to understand our doctrine ? 4. Does the Bible any where assert, that the conviction of the greatest amount of happiness is necessary to the existence of moral obligation ? If I mistake not, it presents a very different view of the subject. It declares that the heathen are without excuse. But why ? Because disobe- dience to God interferes with the greatest amount of hap- piness ? No, but for a very different reason : " Because that ivhich may be Iknown of God is manifest in them, for God hath showed it unto- them ; so THAT they are without excuse." Rom. i. 19, 20. St. Paul here seems to assume, that the revelation of God's eternal power and divinity, and the manifestation of his will, are sufficient, of themselves, without any other consideration, to make whatever he shall command obligatory upon his creatures. It seems, then, to me, by no means proved, that an ac- tion is right because it is productive of the greatest amount of happiness ; if we mean by it that, in our conceptions, the one idea is the stated antecedent to the other. Secondly. But let us take the other meaning of because. Suppose it said, that the idea of moral obligation is an idea comprehended under, and to be referred to, a more general idea, namely, that of the productiveness of the gre .test amount of happiness. Now, if this be the case, then, manifestly, either the notion of the greatest amount of happiness, and the notion of right, must be equally exten- sive ; that is, must extend precisely to the same number OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 39 of individual instances : or else their extent must be differ- ent ; that is, the generic notion of the greatest amount of happiness must comprehend cases which are excluded from its species, the idea of right. If the latter be the case, then, there will be some cases in which an action would produce the greatest amount of happiness, which would not contain the moral element ; and, besides, if this were the case, it would become those who make this assertion, to show what is that other element, which, combining with the idea of the greatest amount of happiness, designates the subordinate and different idea, as the idea of moral obligation. This, however, would not be attempted, and it will be at once admitted, that these two ideas are, in their nature, coexten- sive ; that is, that whatever is productive of the greatest amount of happiness, is right, and whatever is right, is pro- ductive of the greatest amount of happiness. Let us suppose it then to be assumed, that the terms are precisely coextensive, viz., that they apply exactly to the same actions and in the same degrees. It would then be difficult to assign a meaning to the word because, corre- sponding to either of the senses above stated. Nor, if two terms are precisely coextensive, do I see how it is possible to discover which of the two is to be referred to the other : or, whether either is to be referred to either. If A and B arc equally extensive, I do not see how we can determine whether A is to be referred to B, or B to be referred to A, The only other meaning which I can conceive as capa- ble of being attached to the assertion, is this ; that we are not under moral obligation to perform any action, unless it be productive of the greatest amount of happiness; thus making moral obligation rest upon this other idea, that of the greatest amount of happiness. Now, if this be asserted, it is, surely, from what has been said above, not self-evident ; for we manifestly do not, instinctively and universally, as soon as this connection is asserted, yield our assent to it, nor is it absurd to deny it ; and, therefore, the assertion is capable of proof, and we may justly demand the proof before we believe it. Let us, then, examine the proof on which it rests. It is, however, to be remarked, that, if the assertion be 40 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION true, that we are under obligation to perform an action only on the ground that it is productive of the greatest good, the assertion must be true in its widest sense. It must apply to actions affecting our relations, not only to man, but also to God ; for these are equally comprehended within the notion of moral obligation. And thus, the assertion is, that we are not under obligation to perform any action whatever, under any circumstances, unless it be productive of the greatest amount of happiness. 1. It is said, that these two always coincide ; that is, that we always are under obligation to do whatever is pro- ductive of the greatest amount of happiness ; and that, whatever we are under obligation to do, is productive of the greatest amount of happiness. Now, granting the premises, I do not see that the conclusion would follow. It is possi- ble to conceive, that God may have created moral agents under obligations to certain courses of conduct, and have so arranged the system of the universe, that the following of these courses shall be for the best, without making our obligation to rest at all upon their tendency to produce the greatest amount of happiness. A parent may require a child to do that which will be for the good of the family ; and yet there may be other rea- sons besides this, which render it the duty of the child to obey his parent. 2. BuU^secondly, how do we know that these premises are true-%hat whatever we are under obligation to do, is productive of the greatest amount of happiness ? Itjiever can be known, unless we know the whole history of this universe from everlasting to everlasting. And, besides, we know that God always acts right, that is, deals with all beings according to their deserts ; but whether he always acts simply to promote the greatest happiness, I do not know that he has told us. His government could not be more perfectly right than it is ; but whether it could have in- volved less misery, or have produced more happiness, I do not know that we have the means of ascertaining. As, therefore, the one quantity, so to speak, is fixed, that is, is as great as it can be, while we do not certainly know that the other is as great as it can be we cannot affirm that OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 41 right and the greatest amount of happiness always coincide ; nor, that we are under obligation to do nothing, unless it would tend to produce the greatest amount of happiness. 3. Besides, suppose we are under no obligation to do any thing unless it were productive of the greatest amount of happiness, it would follow that we are under no obliga- tion to obey God, unless the production of the greatest amount of happiness were the controlling and universal principle of his government. That is, if his object, in creating and governing the universe, were any other, or, if it were doubtful whether it might not be any other, our obligation to obedience would either be annihilated, or would be contingent ; that is, it would be inversely as the degree of doubt which might exist. Now, as I have be- fore remarked, this may, or may not, be the ultimate end of God's government ; it may be his own pleasure, or his own glory, or some other end, which he has not seen fit to reveal to us ; and, therefore, on the principle which we are discussing, our obligation to obedience seems a matter yet open for discussion. Now, if I mistake not, this is wholly at variance with the whole tenor of Scripture and reason. I do not know that the Scriptures ever give us a reason why we ought to obey God, aside from his existence and attributes, or that they ever put this subject in a light susceptible of a question. To this view of the subject, the following remarks of Bishop Butler manifestly tend : " Perhaps divine goodness, with which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce happiness ; but a disposition to make the good, the faithful, the honest man happy. Perhaps an infinitely perfect mind may be pleased with seeing his creatures behave suit- ably with the nature which he has given them, to the rela- tions in which he has placed them to each other, and to that in which they stand to himself; that relation to himself, which during their existence is ever necessary, and whch is the most important one of all. I say, an infinitely perfect mind may be pleased with this moral piety of moral agents in and for itself., as well as upon account of its being essentially conducive to the happiness of his creation. Or 4* 42 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION the whole end for which God made and thus governs the world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our faculties : there may be somewhat in it, as impossible for us to have any conception of, as for a blind man to have a conception of colors." Analogy, part 1, ch. 2. Again. " Some men seem to think the only character of the Author of nature, to be that of single, absolute benevolence. This, considered as a principle of action, and infinite in degree, is a disposition to produce the great- est possible happiness, without regard to persons' behavior, otherwise than as such regard would produce the highest degrees of it. And, supposing this to be the only charac ter of God, veracity and justice in him would be nothing but benevolence, conducted by wisdom. Now, surely this ought not to be asserted, unless it can be proved ; for we should speak with cautious reverence upon such a subject. There may possibly be, in the creation, beings, to whom the Author of nature manifests himself under this most amiable of all characters, this of infinite, absolute benevo- lence ; for it is the most amiable, supposing it is not, as perhaps it is not, incompatible with justice ; but he mani- fests himself to us under the character of a Righteous Gov ernor. He may, consistently with this, be simply and abso- lutely benevolent, in the sense now explained ; but he is, for he has given us a proof, in the constitution and govern- ment of the world, that he is, a Governor over servants, as he rewards and punishes us for our actions." Analogy, ch. 3. " Nay, farther, were treachery, violence, and injustice, no otherwise vicious, than as foreseen likely to produce an overbalance of misery to society, then, if a man could pro- cure to himself as great advantage by an act of injustice, as the whole foreseen inconvenience likely to be brought upon others by it would amount to, such a piece of injus- tice would not be faulty or vicious at all ; because it would be no more than, in any other case, for a man to prefer his own satisfaction to another's in equal degrees. The fact then appears to be, that we are constituted so as to con- demn falsehood, unprovoked violence, injustice, and to approve of benevolence to some in preference to others, abstracted from all consideration whid onduct is likeliest OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS? 43 to produce an overbalance of happiness or misery. And, therefore, were the Author of nature to propose nothing to himself as an end, but the production of happiness, were his moral character merely that of Benevolence, yet ours is not so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason of his giving us the above-mentioned approbation of benev- olence to some persons, rather than others, and disapproba- tion of falsehood, unprovoked violence, and injustice, must be that he foresaw this constitution of our nature would produce more happiness, than forming us with a temper of mere general benevolence. But still, since this is our constitution, falsehood, violence, injustice, must be vice in us, and benevolence to some, preferably to .others, must be virtue, abstracted from all consideration of the overbalance of evil or good which they appear likely to produce. " Now, if human creatures are endued with such a moral nature as we have been explaining, or with a moral faculty, the nature of which is action, moral government must con- sist in rendering them happy or unhappy, in rewarding or punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or depart from, the moral rule of action, interwoven in their nature, or sug- gested and enforced by this moral faculty, in rewarding or punishing them on account of their so doing." Second Dissertation on Virtue. For these reasons, I think it is not proved that an action is right because it is productive of the greatest amount of happiness. It may be so, or it may not, but we ought not to believe it to be so without proof; and it may even be doubted whether we are in possession of the media of proof, that is, whether it is a question fairly within the reach of the human faculties ; and, so far as we can learn from the Scriptures, I -think their testimony is decidedly against the supposition. To me, the Scriptures seem ex- plicitly to declare, that the will of our God alone is suffi- cient to create the obligation to obedience in all his crea- tures ; and that this will, of itself, precludes every other inquiry. This s.eems to be the view of St. Paul, in the passage which we have quoted, as well as in several other places, in his Epistle to the Romans. To the same import is the prayer of our Savior, " I thank thee, O Father, Lord 44 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes ; even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." It seems, therefore, to me, that these explanations of the origin of our moral sentiments are unsatisfactory. I ^believe the idea of a moral quality in actions to be ultimate, to arise under such circumstances as have been appointed by our Creator, and that we can assign for it no other reason, than that such is his will concerning us. If this be true, our only business will be, to state the ^circumstances under which our moral notions arise. In doing this, it would be presumption in me to expect that I shall be able to give an account of this subject more satis- factory to others, than theirs has been to me. I merely offer it as that which seems to me most accurately to cor- respond with the phenomena. The view which I take of this subject is briefly as follows : 1. It is manifest to every one, that we all stand in vari- ous and dissimilar relations to all the sentient beings, created and uncreated, with which we are acquainted. Among our relations to created beings are those of man to man, or that of substantial equality, of parent and child, of benefactor and recipient, of husband and wife, of brother and brother, citizen and citizen, citizen and magistrate, and a thousand others. 2. Now, it seems to me, that, as soon as a human being comprehends the relation in which two human beings stand to each other, there arises in his mind a consciousness of moral obligation, connected, by our Creator, with the very conception of this relation. And the fact is the same, whether he be one of the parties or not. The nature of this feeling is, that the *one ought to exercise certain dis- positions towards the othersjto whom he is thus related ; and to act towards them in a manner corresponding with those dispositions. 3. r The nature of these dispositions varies, of course, with the relations^ Thus, those of a parent to a child are different from those of a child to a parent ; those of a OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS? 45 benefactor to a recipient, from those of a recipient to a benefactor : and both of them differ from that of a brother to a brother, or of a master to a servant. But, different as these may be from each other^hey are all pervaded by the same generic feeling, that of moral obligation ;\ that is, we feel that we ought to be thus or thus disposed, and to act in this or that manner. 4. This I suppose to be our constitution, in regard to created beings ; and such do I suppose would be our feel- ing, irrespectively of any notion of the Deity. That is, upon the conception of these and such like relations, there would immediately arise this feeling of moral obligation, to act towards those sustaining these relations, in a particular manner. 5. But there is an Uncreated Being, to whom we stand in relations infinitely more intimate and inconceivably more solemn, than any of those of which we have spoken. It is that Infinite Being, who stands to us in the relation of Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, Lawgiver, and Judge ; and to whom we stand in the relation of dependent, help- less, ignorant, and sinful creatures. How much this rela- tion involves, we cannot possibly know; but so much as this we know, that it involves obligations greater than our intellect can estimate. We cannot contemplate it without feeling that, from the very fact of its existence, / we are under obligations to entertain the disposition of filial love and obedience towards God, and to act precisely as he shall condescend to direct. And this obligation arises simply from the fact of the relation existing between the parties, and irrespectively of any other consideration ; and if it be not felt, when the relations are perceived, it can never be produced by any view of the consequences which would arise to the universe from exercising it. 6. This relation, and its consequent obligation, involve, comprehend, and transcend every other. Hence it places obligation to man upon a new foundation. For if we be ourselves thus under illimitable obligations to God, and if, by virtue of the relation which he sustains to the creation, he is the Protector, Ruler, and Proprietor of all, we are under obligations to obey him in every thing. And as 46 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION every other being is also his creature, we are bound to treat that creature as he its Proprietor shall direct. Hence we are bound to perform the obligation under which we stand to his creatures, not merely on account of our relations to them, but also on account of the relations in which we and they stand to God. r And hence, in general, our feeling of moral obligation is a peculiar and instinctive impulse, arising at once by the principles of our constitution, as soon as the relations are perceived in which we stand to the beings, created and ^ uncreated, with whom we are connected. The proof of this must rest, as I am aware, with every L man's consciousness. A few illustrative remarks may, however, not be altogether useless. I think, if we reflect upon the subject, that the manner in which we attempt to awaken moral feelings, confirms the view which I have taken. In such a case, if I mistake not, we always place before the mind the relation in which the parties stand to each other. 1. If we wish to awaken in ourselves gratitude to another, we do not reflect that this affection will produce the great- est good ; but we remember the individual in the relation of benefactor ; and we place this relation in the strongest possible light. If this will not produce gratitude, our effort, of necessity, fails. 2. If we desire to inflame moral indignation against crime, we show the relations in which the parties stand to each other, and expect hence to produce a conviction of the greatness of the obligation which such turpitude vio- lates. 3. So, if we wish to overcome evil with good, we place ourselves in the relation of benefactor to the injurious per- son ; and, in spite of himself, he is frequently compelled to yield to the law of his nature ; and gratitude for favors, and sorrow for injury, spontaneously arise in his bosom. 4. And, in the plan of man's redemption, it seems to me that the Deity has acted on this principle. Irrespectively of a remedial dispensation, he is known to us only as a Creator, all wise and all powerful, perfect in holiness, jus- tice, and truth. To our fallen nature, these attributes could OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS ? 47 minister nothing but terror. He, therefore, has revealed himself to us in the relation of a Savior and Redeemer, a God forgiving transgression and iniquity ; and thus, by all the power of this new relation, he imposes upon us new obligations to gratitude, repentance, and love. 5. And hence it is, that God always asserts, that as, from the fact of this new relation, our obligations to him are in- creased ; so, he who rejects the gospel is, in a special man- ner, a sinner, and is exposed to a more terrible condemnation. The climax of all that is awful in the doom of the unbe- lieving, is expressed by the terms, " the wrath of the Lamb." Again. I am not much accustomed to such refined speculations ; but I think that obedience or love to God, from any more ultimate motive, than that this affection is due to him because he is God, and our God, is not piety. Thus, if a child say, I will obey my father, because it is for the happiness of the family ; what the character of this action would be, I am not prepared to say ; but I think the action would not be filial obedience. Filial obedience is the obeying of another, because he is my father ; and it is FILIAL obedience, only in so far as it proceeds from this motive. This will be evident, if we substitute for the love of the happiness of the family, the love of money, or some other such motive. Every one sees, that it would not be filial obedience, for a child to obey his parent because he would be well paid for it. Now, it seems to me, that the same principle applies in the other case. To feel under obligation to love God, because this affection would be productive of the greatest good, and not on account of what he is, and of the relations in which he stands to us, seems to me not to be piety ; that is, not to be the feeling, which a creature is bound to exer- cise towards his Creator. If the obligation to the love of God ran really arise from any thing more ultimate than the essential relation which he sustains to us, why may not this more ultimate motive be something else, as well as the love of the greatest good ? I do not say that any thing else would be as benevolent ; but I speak metaphysically, and say, that, if real piety, or love to God, may truly spring 48 WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION, ETC. from any thing more ultimate than God himself, I do not see why it may not spring from one thing as well as from another; and thus, true piety might spring from various and dissimilar motives, no one of which has any real refer- ence to God himself. My view of this subject, in few words, is as follows : 1. We stand in relations to the several beings with which we are connected, such, that some of them, as soon as they are conceived, suggest to us the idea of moral obligation. 2. Our relations to our fellow-men suggest this convic- tion, in a limited and restricted sense, corresponding to the idea of general or essential equality. 3. The relation in which we stand to the Deity suggests the conviction of universal and unlimited love and obedience. This binds us to proper dispositions towards Him ; and, also, to such dispositions towards his creatures, as he shall appoint. 4. Hence, our duties to man are enforced by a twofold obligation ; first, because of our relations to man as man ; and, secondly, because of our relation to man as being, with ourselves, a creature of God. 5. And hence an act, which is performed in obedience to our obligations to man, may be virtuous ; but it is not pious, unless it also be performed in obedience to our obligations to God. 6. And hence we see that two things are necessary, in I order to constitute any being a moral agent. They are, first, that he possess an intellectual power, by which he can understand the relation in which he stands to the beings by whom he is surrounded ; secondly, that he possess a moral power, by which the feeling of obligation is suggested to him, as soon as the relation in which he stands is under- stood. This is sufficient to render him a moral agent. He is accountable, just in proportion to the opportunity which he has enjoyed, for acquiring a knowledge of the relations in which he stands, and of the manner in which hi? obliga- tions are to be discharged. CHAPTER SECOND. CONSCIENCE, OR THE MORAL SENSE. SECTION 1. IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? BY conscience, or the moral sense, is meant, that faculty by which we discern the moral quality of actions, and by which we are capable of certain affections in respect to this quality. By faculty, is meant any particular part of our constitu- tion, by which we become affected by the various qualities and relations of beings around us. Thus, by taste, we are conscious of the existence of beauty and f deformity ; by perception, we acquire a knowledge of the existence and qualities of the material world. And, in general, if we discern any quality in the universe, or produce or suffer any change, it seems almost a truism to say, that we have a faculty, or power, for so doing. A man who sees, must have eyes, or the faculty for seeing ; and if he have not eyes, this is considered a sufficient reason why he should not see. And thus, it is universally admitted, that there may be a thousand qualities in nature, of which we have no knowledge, for the simple reason, that we have not been created with the faculties for discerning them. There is a world without us, and a world within us, which exactly correspond to each other. Unless both exist, we can never be conscious of the existence of either. Now, that we do actually observe a moral quality in the actions of men, must, I think, be admitted. Every human being is conscious, that, from childhood, he has observed it. We do not say, that all men discern this quality w*th 5 i GO IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? equal accuracy, any more than that they all see with equal distinctness : but we say, that all men perceive it in some actions ; and that there is a multitude of cases in which their perceptions of it will be found universally to agree. And, moreover, this quality, and the feeling which accom- panies the perception of it, are unlike those derived from every other faculty. r The question would then seem reduced to this. Do we perceive this quality of actions by a single faculty, or by a combination of faculties ?J I think it must be evident, from what has been already stated, thatHhis notion is, in its nature, simple and ultimate, and distinct from every other notion. Now, if this be the case, it seems self-evident, that we must have a distinct and separate faculty, to make us acquainted with the existence of this distinct and separate quality, j This is the case in respect to all other distinct qualities : it is, surely, reasonable to suppose, that it would be the case with this, unless some reason can be shown to the contrary. But, after all, this question is, to the moral philosopher, of but comparatively little importance. All that is necessa- ry to his investigations is, that it be admitted that there is such a quality, and that men are so constituted as to per- ceive it, and to be susceptible of certain affections, in con- sequence of that perception. Whether these facts are accounted for, on the supposition of the existence of a , single faculty, or of a combination of faculties, will not ^affect the question of moral obligation. All that is neces- sary to the prosecution of the science is, that it be admitted that there is such a quality in actions, and that man is endowed with a constitution capable of bringing him into relation to it. It may, however, be worth while to consider some of the objections which have been urged against the supposition of the existence of such a faculty. I. It has been said, if such a faculty has been bestowed, it must have been bestowed universally : but it is not be- stowed universally ; for, [what some nations consider* right, other nations consider wrong,, as infanticide, parricide, duellin , IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 51 1. To this it may be answered, first, the objection seems ^ to admit the universality of the existence of conscience, . . or the power of discerning in certain actions a moral quality. It admits that, every where ,V men make this distinction ;] but affirms, that, in different countries, they refer the quality to different actions. Now, hoiv this difference is to be accounted for, may be a question ; but the fact, as stated in the objection, shows the universality of the power of observing such a quality in actions. 2. But, secondly, we have said that we discover the moral quality of actions in the intention. Now, it is not the fact, that this difference exists, as stated in the objection, if the intention of actions be considered. Where was it not considered right to intend the happiness of parents ? Where was it not considered wrong to intend their misery ? Where was it ever considered right to intend to requite kindness by injury ? and where was it ever considered wrong to intend to requite kindness with still greater kind- ness ? In regard to the manner in which these intentions! may be fulfilled, there may be a difference ; but as to the ^ moral quality of these intentions themselves, as well as of many others, there is a very universal agreement among men.j 3. And still more, it will be seen, on examination, that, Tin these very cases, in which wrong actions are practised, they are justified on the ground of a good intention! or of (V some view of the relations between the parties, wTTich, if true, would render them innocent. Thus, if infanticide be justified, it is on the ground, that this world is a place of misery, and that the infant is better off not to encounter its troubles ; that is, that the parent wishes or intends well to the child : or else it is defended on the ground, that the re- lation between parent and child is such as to confer on the one the right of life and death over the other; and, there- fore, that to take its life is as innocent as the slaying of a brute, or the destruction of a vegetable. Thus, also, are parricide, and revenge, and various other wrong actions, defended. Where can the race of men be found, be they ever so savage, who need to be told that ingratitude is wrong, that parents ought to love their children, or that 52 IS THERE A CONSCIENCE? men ought to be submissive and obedient to the Supreme Divinity ? 4. And still more, I think one of the strongest exemplifi- cations of the universality of moral distinctions, is found in the character of many of the ancient heathen. They per- ceived these distinctions, and felt and obeyed the impulses of conscience, even though at variance with all the ex- amples of the deities whom they worshipped. Thus, says Rousseau, " Cast your eyes over all the nations of the world, and all the histories of nations. Amid so many inhuman and absurd superstitions, amid that prodigious diversity of manners and characters, you will find every where the same principles and distinctions of moral good and evil. The paganism of the ancient world produced, indeed, abominable gods, who, on earth, would have been shunned or punished as monsters ; and who offered, as a picture of supreme happiness, only crimes to commit, or pas- sions to satiate. But Vice, armed with this sacred authority, descended in vain from the eternal abode. She found in the heart of man, a moral instinct to repel her. The con- tinence of Xenocrates was admired by those who cele- brated the debaucheries of Jupiter. The chaste Lucretia adored the unchaste Venus. The most intrepid Roman sacrificed to fear. He invoked the god who dethroned his father, and died without a murmur by the hand of his own. The most contemptible divinities were served by the great- est men. The holy voice of nature, stronger than that of the gods, made itself heard, and respected, and obeyed on earth, and seemed to banish to the confines of heaven, guilt and the guilty." Quoted by Dr. Brown, Lecture 75. II. Again, the objection has been made in another form. It is said, that savages violate, without remorse or compunc- tion, the plainest principles of right. Such is the case, when they are guilty of revenge and licentiousness. This objection has been partly considered before. It may, however, be added, First. ' No men, nor any class of men, violate every moral precept without compunction, without the feeling of guilt, and the consciousness of desert of puiiishmemy THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 53 Secondly. Hence the objection will rather prove the existence of a defective or imperfect conscience, than that no such faculty exists. The same objection would prove us destitute of taste or of understanding ; because these faculties exist, only in an imperfect state, among savagesj and uncultivated men. III. It has been objected, again, that, if we suppose this faculty to exist, it is, after all, useless ; for if a man please to violate it, and to suffer the pain, then this is the end of the question, and, as Dr. Paley says, "the moral instinct man has nothing more to offer." To this it may be answered : The objection proceeds upon a mistake respecting the function of conscience. Its use is, to teach us to discern our moral obligations, and to impel us towards the corre- sponding action. It is not pretended, by the believers in a moral sense, that man may not, after all, do as he chooses. All that they contend for is, that he is constituted with such a faculty, and that the possession of it is necessary to his moral accountability. It is in his power to obey it or to disobey it, just as he pleases. I The fact that a man may obey or disobey conscience, no more proves that it does not exist, than the fact that he sometimes does, and some- times does not obey, passion, proves that he is destitute of^ passion. SECTION II. OP THE MANNER IN WHICH THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE IS EXPRESSED. Whoever will attentively observe the operations of his own mind, when deciding upon a moral question, and when carrying that decision into effect, will, I think, be conscious of several distinct forms of moral feeling. These I sup- pose to be 'flie following : 1. Suppose we are deliberating, respecting an action, j before performing it. 5* 54 THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE ,- l\t , *% f ~( 1. Tf we pause, and candidly consider the nature of an action, whicn involves, in any respect, our relations with others ; amidst the various qualities which characterize the action, we shall not fail to perceive its moral quality. We may perceive it to be gratifying or self-denying, courteous or uncivil, in favor of, or against, our interest ; but, distinct from all these, and differing from them alr^"we may always ^ perceive, that it seems to us to be either right or wrong._J Let a man recollect any of the cases in his own history, in >v "\ which he has been called upon to act under important ** responsibility, and he will easily remember, both the fact, and the pain and distress produced by the conflict of these opposite impulsions. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that we easily, or, at least, with much greater ease, perceive this quality in the actions of others. We discern the mote in our brother's eye much sooner than the beam in our own eye. 2. Besides this discriminating power, I think we may readily observe^ a distinct impulse to do that which we con- ceive to be right, and to leave undone that which we con- ceive to be wrong. This impulse we express by the words ought, and ought notJ Thus, we say it is right to tell the truth ; and I ought to tell it. It is wrong to tell a lie ; and J ought not to tell it. Ought, and ought not, seem to convey the abstract idea of right and wrong, together with the other notion of impulsion to do, or not to do, a partic- ular action. Thus, we use it always to designate a motive to action, as we do passion, or self-love, or any other motive power. If we are asked, why we performed any action, we reply, we acted thus, because it gratified our desires, or because it was for our interest, upon the whole, or because we felt that we ought to act thus. Either of them is con- sidered sufficient to account for the fact ; that is, either of them explains the motive or impulse, in obedience to which we acted, rit is, also, manifest, that we use the term, not merely to designate an impulse, but, also, an obligation to act in conformity with itj Thus we say. we ought to do a thing, meaning that we are not only impelled towards the action, but that we are under an imperative obligation to act thus. This is still more distinctly seen,, when we speak THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 55 of another. When we say of a friend, that he ought to do any thing, as we cannot judge of the impulses which move him, we refer, principally, to this conviction of obli- gation, which, above every other, should govern Jiim. The power of this impulse of conscience is most dis-~| tinctly seen, when it comes into collision with the impulse of strong and vehement passion. It is then, that the hu- man soul is agitated to the full extent of its capacity for emotion. And this contest generally continues, specially J if we have decided in opposition to conscience, until the action is commenced. The voice of conscience is then lost amid the whirlwind of passion ; and it is not heard until after the deed is done. It is on this account, that this state of mind is frequently selected by the poets, as a subject for delineation. Shakspeare frequently alludes to I all these offices of conscience, with the happiest effect. The constant monitory power of conscience is thus illus- trated, by one of the murderers about to assassinate the Duke of Clarence : " I'll not meddle with it (conscience) ; it is a dangerous thing ; it makes a man a coward ; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him ; a man cannot swear, but it checks him. 'Tis a blushing, shamefaced spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom : it fills one full of ob- stacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold, that, by chance, I found. It beggars any man that keeps it." Richard III, Act i, Sc. 4. The whole scene is a striking exemplification of the workings of conscience, even in the bosoms of the most abandoned of men. The wicked Clarence appeals to the consciences of his murderers ; and they strengthen themselves against his appeals, by referring to his own atrocities, and thus awakening in their own bosoms the conviction that he ought to die. The state of mind of a man meditating a wicked act, and the temporary victory of conscience, are seen in the following extract from Macbeth. He recalls the relations in which Duncan stood to him, and these produce so strong a conviction of the wickedness of the .murder, that he decides not to commit it. " If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, 56 THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We 'd jump the life to come. But, in these cases, We still have judgment here ; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong bot/t against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking off. * * * * * * I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself." Macbeth, Act i, Sc. 7. The anguish which attends upon an action not yet com- menced, but only resolved upon, while we still doubt of its lawfulness, is finely illustrated by the same author, in the case of Brutus, who, though a man of great fortitude, was, by the anguish of contending emotions, deprived of sleep, and so changed in behavior, as to give his wife reason to suspect the cause of his disquietude : " Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection." J, Casar, Act ii, Sc. 1. The same contest between conscience and the lower propensities, is, as I suppose, graphically described by the Apostle Paul, in the seventh chapter of his Epistle to the Romans. II. Suppose now an action ^.to._.be_done, I think that every one who examinesTTnT~own heart will be conscious of another class of feelings consequent on those to which we have just alluded. THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. 57 1. If he have obeyed the impulses of conscience, and ' resisted successfully the impulses at variance with it, he - will be conscious of a feeling of innocence, of self-appro- bation, of desert of reward. If the action have been done by anotlieiyhe will fee,l towards him a sentiment of respect, of moral approbation, -and a desire to see him rewarded,] and, on many occasions, to reward him himself. 2. If he have disobeyed the impulses of conscience, he will be conscious of guilt, of self-abasement, and self-disap- probation or remorse, and of desert of punishment. If it have been done by another, he will be conscious of a sen- timent of moral rSsapprobation,\and of a desire that the offender should be" punished, and; in many cases, of a desire) to punish him himself. Of course, I do not say that all these feelings can be traced, by reflection upon every action ; but I think that, in all cases in which our moral sensibilities are at all aroused, we can trace some, and fre quently all of them. In accordance with these remarks, several facts may be noticed. The boldness of innocence, and the timidity of guilt, so? often observed by moralists and poets, may be thus easily accounted for. The virtuous man is conscious of deserving nothing but reward. Whom, then, should he fear? The guilty man is conscious of desert of punishment, and is aware that every one who knows of his offence desires to punish him ; and as he never is certain but that every one knows it, whom can he trust? And, still more, there is, with the feeling of desert of punishment, a disposition to submit to punishment arising from our own self-disapproba- tion and remorse. This depresses the spirit, and humbles the courage of the offender, far more than even the externalj circumstances by which he is surrounded. Thus, says Solomon, " the wicked flee when no man pursueth ; but the righteous is bold as a lion." " What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted i Thrice is he armed, who hath his quarrel just; And he but naked, though luck'dup in steel, Whose conscience with injus ice is corrupted." 2d Part Henry VI, Act iii, Sc. 2 6. 58 THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE. " Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer." 2d Part Henry VI, Act v, Sc " I feel within me A peace, above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience." Henry VIII, Act iii, Sc. 2. The effect of guilt : " No wonder why I felt rebuked beneath his eye ; I might have known, there \vas but one, Whose look could quell Lord Marmion." Marmion, Cant, vi, 17. " Curse on yon base marauder's lance, And doubly curs'd my failing brand ! A sinful heart makes feeble hand." Marmion, Cant, vi, St. 32. It is in consequence of the same facts, that crime is, with so great certainty, detected. A man, before the commission of crime, can foresee no reason why he might not commit it, with the certainty of escaping detection. He can perceive no reason why he should be even suspected ; and can imagine a thousand methods, in which suspicion, awakened, might with perfect ease be allayed^ But, as soon as he becomes guilty, his relations to his fellow-men are entirely changed. He be- comes suspicious of every one, and thus sees every occur- rence through a false medium. Hence, he cannot act like an innocent man ; and this very difference in his conduct, is very often the sure means of his detection./ When to this effect, produced upon the mind by guilt, is added the fact, that every action must, by the condition of our being, be attended by antecedents and consequents beyond our control, all of which lead directly to the discovery of the truth, it is not wonderful, that the guilty so rarely escape. Hence it has grown into a proverb, " murder will out ; " and such we generally find to be the fact. This effect of guilt upon human action has been fre- quently remarked. Thus, Macbeth, after the murder of Duncan : THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 59 " Hc\v is it with me when every noise appals me ? " Act ii, Sc. 2 " Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use." The same fact is frequently asserted in the sacred Scrip- tures. Thus, " The Lord is known by the judgment that he executeth ; the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands." " Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished." I hope that I need not apologize for introducing into such a discussion so many illustrations from poetry. They are allowed, on all hands, to be accurate delineations of the workings of the human mind, and to have been made by most accurate observers. They were made, also, without the possibility of bias from any theory ; and therefore are of great value, when they serve to confirm any theoretical views, with which they may chance to coincide. They show, at least, in what light poets, whose only object is -to observe the human heart, have considered conscience, and what they have supposed to be its functions, and its mode of operation. SECTION III. THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. We have, thus far, endeavored to show, that there is in man a faculty denominated Conscience ; and that it is not merely a discriminating, but also an impulsive faculty The next question to be considered is, what is the authority of this impulse. The object of the present section is, to show that this is the most authoritative impulse of which wejind ourselves susceptible. The supremacy of Conscience may be illustrated in various ways. 60 THE AUTHORITY OF CO I. It is involved in the very conception which men form of this faculty. The various impulses, of which we find ourselves suscep- tible, can differ only in two respects, that of strength and that of_jgM///.or/ty. When we believe them to differ in nothing but strength, we feel ourselves perfectly at liberty to obey the strong- est. Thus, if different kinds of food be set before us, all equally healthy, we feel entirely at liberty to partake of that which we prefer ; that is, of that to which we are most strongly impelled. If a man is to decide between making a journey by land, or by water, he considers it a sufficient motive for choice, that the one mode of travel- ling is more pleasant to him than the other. But when our impulses differ in authority, we^ieel^obliged to neglect the difference in strength of impulse, and to obey that, be it ever so weak, which is of the"higher^ authority. Thus, suppose our desire for any particular kind of food to be ever so strong, and we know that it would injure our health ; self-love would admonish us to leave it alone. Now, self-love being a more authoritative impulse than passion, we should feel an obligation to obey it, be its admonition ever so weak, and the impulse of appetite ever so vehement. If we yield to the impulse of appetite, be it ever so strong, in opposition to that of self-love, be it ever so weak, we feel a consciousness of self-degradation, and of acting unworthily of our nature ; and, if we see another person acting in this manner, we cannot avoid feeling towards him a sentiment of contempt. " 'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool." And, in general, whenever we act in obedience to a lower, and in opposition to a higher sen- timent, we feel this consciousness of degradation, which we do not feel when the impulses differ only in degree. And, conversely, whenever we feel this consciousness of degrada- tion, for acting in obedience to one instead of to another, we may know that we have violated that which is of the higher authority. If, now, we reflect upon our feelings consequent upon any moral action, I think we shall find, that we always are conscious of a sentiment of self-degradation, whenever we THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. Gl disobey the monition of conscience, be that monition ever so weak, to gratify the impulse of appetite, or passion, or self-love, be that impulse ever so strong. Do we consider it any palliation of the guilt of murder, for the criminal to declare, that his vindictive feelings impelled him much more strongly than his conscience ? whereas, if we perceived in these impulses no other difference than that of strength, we should ^consider this not merely an excuse, but a justifica- tion. (And that the impulse of conscience is of thenhighest*' authority, is evident from the fact, that we cannot conceive of any circumstances, in which we should not feel guilty and degraded, from acting in obedience to any impulse whatever, in opposition to the impulse of conscience^ And thus, we cannot conceive of any more exalted "cnaracter, than that of him, who, on all occasions, yields himself up implicitly to the impulses of conscience, all things else to the contrary notwithstanding. I think no higher evi- dence can be produced, to show that we do really consider the impulse of conscience of higher authority than any other of which we are susceptible. H. The same truth may, I think, be rendered evident, by observing the feelings which arise within us, when we compare the actions of men with those of beings of an inferior order. Suppose a brute to act from appetite, and injure itself by gluttony ; or from passion, and injure another brute from anger: we feel nothing like moral disapprobation. We pity it, and strive to put it out of its power to act thus in future. We never feel that a brute is disgraced or degraded by such an action. But suppose a man to act thus, and we cannot avoid a feeling of disapprobation and of disgust ; a conviction that the man has done violence to his nature. Thus, to call a man a brute, a sensualist, a glutton, is to speak of him in the most insulting manner : it is to say, in the strongest terms, that he has acted unworthily of him- self, and of the nature with which his Creator has endowed him. Again. Let a brute act from deliberate selfishness ; that is, with deliberate caution seek its own happiness upon t he whole, unmindful of the impulsions of present appetite, but 6 62 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. yet wholly regardless of the happiness of any other of its species. In no case do we feel disgust at such a course of action; and in many cases, we, on the contrary, rather regard it with favor. We thus speak of the cunning of animals in taking their prey, in escaping danger, and in securing for themselves all the amount of gratification that may be in their power. We are sensible, in these cases, that the animal has acted from the highest impulses of which the Creator has made it susceptible. But let a man act thus. Let him, careful merely of his own happiness upon the whole, be careful for nothing else, and be perfectly willing to sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount whatsoever, to promote his own, to the least amount soever. Such has been, frequently, the character of sensual and unfeeling tyrants. We are conscious, in such a case, of a sentiment of disgust and deep disapprobation. We feel that the man has not acted in obedience to the highest impulses of which he was susceptible ; and poets, and satirists, and historians, unite in holding him up to the world, as an object of universal detestation and abhorrence. Again. Let another man, disregarding the impulses 01 passion, and appetite, and self-love, act, under all circum- stances, in obedience to the monitions of conscience, un- moved and unallured by pleasure, and unawed by power ; and we instinctively feel that he has attained to the highest eminence to which our nature can aspire ; and that he has acted from the highest impulse of which his nature is sus- ceptible. We are conscious of a conviction of his superi- ority, which nothing can outweigh ; of a feeling of venera- tion, allied to the reverence which is due to the Supreme Being. And with this homage to virtue, all history is filled. The judge may condemn the innocent, but posterity will condemn the judge. The tyrant may murder the martyr, but after ages will venerate the martyr, and exe- crate the tyrant. And if we will look over the names of those, on whom all past time has united in conferring the tribute of praise-worthiness, we shall find them to be the names of those who, although they might differ in other respects, yet were similar in this, that they shone resplendent in the lustre of unsullied virtue. THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 03 'Now, as our Creator has constituted us such as we are, and as, by our very constitution, we do thus consider con- science to be the most authoritative impulse of our nature, -7 it must be the most authoritative, unless we believe that He has deceived us, or, which is the same thing, that He has so formed us, as to give credit to a lie. III. The supremacy of conscience may be also illustra- ted, by showing the necessity of this supremacy, to the accomplishment of the objects for which man was created. When we consider any work of art, as a system com- posed of parts, and arranged for the accomplishment of a- given object, there are three several views which we may have of it, and all of them necessary to a complete and perfect knowledge of the thing. 1. We mustjiave a knowledge of the several .parts of which it is composed. Thus, he who would understand a watch, must know the various wheels and springs which enter into the formation of the instrument. But this alone, as, for instance, if they were spread separately before him, upon a table, would give him a very imperfect conception of a watch. 2. He must, therefore, understand how these parts are put together. This will greatly increase his knowledge ; but it will still be imperfect, for he may yet be ignorant of thc_rclations which the parts sustain to each other. A man might look at a steam-engine until he was familiarly acquainted with its whole machinery, and yet not know whether the paddles were designed to move the piston-rod, or the piston-rod to move the paddles. 3. It is necessary, therefore, that he should have a con- ception of the relation .,which the several parts sustain to each other; that is, of the effect which every part was designed to produce upon every other part. When he has arrived at this idea, and has combined it with the other ideas just mentioned, then, and not till then, is his knowl- edge of the instrument complete. It is manifest, that this last notion, that of the relations which the parts sustain to each other, is, frequently, of more importance than either of the others. He who has a conception of the cause of motion in a steam-engine, and 64 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. of the manner in which the ends are accomplished, has a more valuable notion of the instrument, than he who has ever so accurate a knowledge of the several parts, without a conception of the relation. Thus, in the history of astronomy, the existence of the several parts of the solar system was known for ages, without being productive of any valuable result. The progress of astronomy is to be dated from the moment, when the relation which the several parts hold to each other, was discovered by Copernicus. Suppose, now, we desire to ascertain what is the relation which the several parts of any system are designed, by its author, to sustain to each other. I know of no other way, than to find out that series of relations, in obedience to which the system will accomplish the object for which it was con- structed. Thus, if we desire to ascertain the relation which the parts of a watch are designed to sustain to each other, we inquire what is that series of relations, in obedience to which, it will accomplish the purpose for which it was con- structed, that is, to keep time. For instance, we should conduct the inquiry by trying each several part, and ascer- taining by experiment, whether, on the supposition that it was the cause of motion, the result, namely, the keeping of time, could be effected. After we had tried them all, and had found, that under no other relation of the parts to each other, than that which assumes the mainspring to be the source of motion, and the balance wheel to be the regulator of the motion, the result could be produced ; we should conclude, with certainty, that this was the relation of the parts to each other, intended to be established by the maker of the watch. And, again, if an instrument were designed for several purposes, and if it was found, that not only a single pur- pose could not be accomplished, but that no one of them could be accomplished, under any other system of relations than that which had been at first discovered, we should arrive at the highest proof of which the case was suscep- tible, that such was the relation intended to be established between the parts, by the inventor of the machine. /"~ Now, man is a system composed of parts in the manner \ above stated. He has various powers, and faculties, and THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 65 impulses ; and he is manifestly designed to produce some result. As to the ultimate design for which man was created, there may be a difference of opinion. In one view, however, I presume there will be no difference. It will be ajlawed--by t --all,,that he was designed for the produc- tion of (his own happines^.V Look at his senses, his intellect, his affecticnr^-attd-irrfhe external objects with which these are brought into relation ; and at the effects of the legiti- mate action of these powers upon their appropriate objects ; and no one can for a moment doubt, that this was one object for which man was created. Thus, it is as clear, that the eye was intended to be a source of pleasure, as that it was intended to be the instrument of vision. It is as clear, that the ear was intended to be a source of pleasure, as to be the organ of hearing. And thus of the-otlier-fiiculties. But when we consider man as an mstrumejrt^for the p duction of happiness-, it is manifest, that we must take into the account, man as a society, as well as man as an indi- vidual. The larger part of the happiness of the individual depends upon |ociety>; so that whatever would destroy society, or, wnairls, in fact, the same thing, destroy the happiness of man as a society, would destroy the happiness of man as an individual. And such is the con- stitution under which we are placed, that no benefit or i n j ur y.__Qsin_be a ..jn ..its nature, individual. ^Whoever truly,. , promotes his own happiness, promotes the happiness of \\ society Q and ^whoever promotes the happiness of society ^-^w promotes his own happiness.! In this view of the subject, it will then be proper to consider man as a society, as an instrument for producing the happiness of man as a society ; as well as man as an individual, as an instrument for pro-J ducing the happiness of man as an individual. Let us now consider man as an instrument for the pro- duction of human happiness, m the- sense-here explained. If we examine the impulsive and restraining faculties of man, we shall find, that they may, generally, be compre- hended under three classes : 1. J&tmon or appetite. The object of this class of ourl faculties is, to impel us towards certain acts, which produce J immediate pleasure. Thus, the appetite for food impels us 6* 66 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. to seek gratification by eating. The love of power impels us to seek the gratification resulting from superiority ; and so of all the rest. If we consider the nature of these faculties, we shall find, that tlu'y impel us to immediate gratification, without any respect to the consequences, either to ourselves or to others ; and that they know of no limit to indulgence, until, by their own action, they paralyze the power of enjoyment. Thus, the love of food would impel us to eat, until eating ceased to be a source of pleasure. And where, from the nature of the case, no such limit exists, our passions are insatiable. Such is the case with the loy,e of wealth, and the love of power. In these instances,vthere being, in the constitution of man, no limit to the power of gratification, the appetite grows by what it feeds on*A 2. Interest or self-love. This faculty impels us to seek our own happiness, considered in reference to a longer or shorter period; but always beyond the present moment. Thus, if appetite impelled me to eat, self-love would prompt me to eat such food, and in such quantity, as would produce for me the greatest amount of happiness, upon the whole. HTf passion prompted me to revenge, self-love would prompt me to seek revenge in such a manner as would not involve me in greater distress than that which I now suffer ; or, to control the passion entirely, unless I could so gratify it, as to promote my own happiness for the future, as well as for the present^ In all cases, however, the promptings of self-love have respect solely to the production of our own happiness ; they have nothing to do with the happiness of any other being. 3. onscjeiice. The office of conscience, considered in relation to these other impulsive faculties, is, to restrain our appetites within such limits, thatthe^gratification of them will injure neither ourselves nor* other/; and so to govern nur self-Iojggj that we shall act, not solely in obedience to the law of our own happiness, but in obedience to that law, which restricts the pursuit of happiness within such limits, as shall not interfere with the happiness of 'others. It is not here asserted, that conscience always admonishes us to this effect; or, that, when it admonishes us, it is always THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 67 successful. We may, if we please, disobey its monitions ; or, from reasons hereafter to be mentioned, its monitions may have ceased. What we would speak of here, is the tendency and object of this faculty ; and the result to which, if it were perfectly obeyed, it would manifestly lead. And, that such is its tendency, I think that no one, who reflects upon the operations of his own mind, can, for a moment, doubt. Suppose, now, man to be a system, for the promotion of happiness, individual and social ; and that these various impelling powers are parts of it. These powers being fre- quently, in their nature, contradictory ; that is, being such, that one frequently impels to, and another repels from, the same action ; the question is, in what relation of these powers to each other, can the happiness of man be most successfully promoted. 1. It cannot be asserted, that, when these impulsions are at variance, it is a matter of indifference to which of them we yield ; that is, that a man is just as happy, and renders society just as happy, by obeying the one as the other. For, as men always obey either the one or the other, this would be to assert that all men are equally happy ; and that every man promoted his own happiness just as much by one course of conduct, as by another ; than which, noth- ing can be more directly at variance with the whole experi- ence of all men, in all ages. It would be to assert, that the glutton, who is racked with pain, is as happy as the tem- perate and healthy man ; and that Nero and Caligula were as great benefactors to mankind, as Howard or Wilberforce. 2. If, then, it be not indifferent to our happiness, to which of them we yield the supremacy, the question re- turns, Under what relation of each to the other, can the happiness of man be most successfully promoted ? 1. Can the happiness of man be promoted, by subjecting his other impulses to his appetites and passions ? By referring to the nature of appetite and passion, as previously explained, it will be seen that the result to the individual, of such a course, would be sickness and death. It would be a life of unrestrained gratification of every desire, until the power of enjoyment was exhausted, without 68 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. the least regard to the future ; and of refusal to endure any present pain, no matter how great might be the subsequent advantage. Every one must see, that, under the present constitution, such a course of life must produce nothing but individual misery. The result upon society would be its utter destruction. It would render every man a ferocious beast, bent upon nothing but present gratification, utterly reckless of the consequences which gratification produced upon himself, either directly, or through the instrumentality of others; and reckless of the havoc which he made of the happiness of his neighbor. Now, it is manifest, that the result of subjecting man to such a principle, would be, not only the destruction of society, but, also, in a few years, the entire destruction of the human race. 2. Can the happiness of man be best promoted by sub- Ejecting all his impulses to self-love ? It may be observed, that our knowledge of the future, and of the results of the things around us, is manifestly insufficient to secure our own happiness, even by the most sagacious self-love. When we give up the present pleas- ure, or suffer the present pain, we must, from necessity, be wholly ignorant whetherwe shall ever reap the advantage which we anticipate. PThe system, of which every in- dividual forms a part, was not constructed to secure the happiness of any single individual ; and he who devises his plans with sole reference to himself, must find them contin- ually thwarted by that" Omnipotent" and ^Invisible Agency, which is overruling all things upon principles directly at variance with those which he has adopted. Inasmuch, then, as we can never certainly secure to ourselves those results which self-love anticipates, it seems necessary, that, in order to derive from our actions the happiness which they are capable of producing, they involve in themselves some ele- ment, irrespective of future result, which shall give us pleasure, let the result be what it mayj The imperfection of self-love, as a director of conduct, is nobly set forth in Cardinal Wolsey's advice to Cromwell : " Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee fling away ambition THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 69 Lovethyselflast. Cherish the hearts that hate thee. Be just, and fear not ; Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell ! Thou fall'st a blessed martyr." Henry VIII, Act iii, Sc. 2. " May he do justice, For truth's sake, and his conscience ; that his bones, When he has run his 'course, and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on them." Ibid. " For care and trouble set your thought, Ev'n when your end's attained ; And all your plans may come to nought, When every nerve is strained." BURNS'S Epistle to a Young Friend. " But, mousie ! thou art not alone, In proving foresight may be vain . The lest laid schemes of mice and men Gang oft agley, And leave us nought but grief and pain t or promised joy. BURNS, On turning up a Mouse's Nest. Besides, a man, acting from uncontrolled self-love, knows of no other object than his own happiness. He would sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount, how great soever, to secure his own, in any amount, how small soever. j Now, suppose every individual to act in obedience to this principle ; it must produce universal war, and terminate in the subjection of all to the dominion of the strongest ; and in sacrificing the happiness of all to that of one : that is, pro- duce the least amount of happiness of which the system is susceptible. J And, still more, since men, who have acted upon this principle, have been proverbially unhappy ; the result of such a course of conduct is, to render ourselves miserable by the misery of every one else ; that is, its ten- dency is to the entire destruction of happiness. It is mani- fest, then, that the highest happiness of man cannot be promoted by subjecting all his impulses to the government of self-love. Lastly. Suppose, now, all the impulses of man to be subjected to conscience. The tendency of this impulse, so far as this subject is 70 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. concerned, is, to restrain the appetites and passions of man within those limits, that shall conduce to his happiness, on the whole ; and so to control the impulse of self-love, that the individual, in the pursuit of his own happiness, shall never interfere with the rightful happiness of his neighbor. Each one, under such a system, and governed by such an impulse, would enjoy all the happiness which he could create by the use of the powers which God had given him. Every one doing thus, the whole would enjoy all the hap- piness of which their constitution was susceptible. The happiness of man, as an individual, and as a society, would thus be, in the best conceivable manner, provided for. And thus, under the relation which we have suggested ; that is, conscience being supreme, and governing both self- love and passion ; and self-love, where no higher principle intervened, governing passion; man individual, and man universal, considered as an instrument for the production of happiness, would best accomplish the purpose for which he was created. This, then, is the relation between nis powers, which was designed to be established by his Creator. It can, in the same manner, be shown, that, if man, in- dividual and universal, be considered as an instrument for the production of power, this end of his creation can be accomplished most successfully by obedience to the relation here suggested ; that is, on the principle, that the authority of conscience is supreme.* This is conclusively shown in Butler's Analogy, Part i, Chapter 3. And thus, let any reasonable end be suggested, for which it may be supposed that man has been created ; and it will be found, that this end can be best attained, by the subjection of every other impulse to that of conscience ; nay, that it can be attained in no other way. And hence, the argument seems con- clusive, that this is the relation intended by his Creator to be established between his faculties. Vis consili expers, mole ruit sua. Vim tcmperatam, di quoque provehunt In majus ; idem odere vires Omne nefas animo moventes. HOR. Lib. 3, Car. 4. THE LAW BY WHICH, ETC. 71 If the preceding views be correct, it will follow : 1 . If God has given man an impulse for virtue, it is as true, that he has designed him for virtue, as for any thing else ; as, for instance, for seeing or for hearing. 2. If this impulse be the most authoritative in his nature, it is equally manifest, that man is made for virtue more than for any thing else. 3. And hence, he who is vicious, not only acts contrary to his nature, but contrary to the highest impulse of his nature ; that is, he acts as much in opposition to his nature as it is possible for us to conceive. SECTION IV. THE LAW BY WHICH CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED. Conscience follows the general law, by which the im- provement of all our other faculties is regulated. It is strengthened by use, it is impaired by disuse. Here it is necessary to remark, that, by use, we mean the use of the faculty itself, and not of some other faculty. This is so plain a case, that it seems wonderful that there should have been any mistake concerning it. Every one knows, that the anus are not strengthened by using the legs, nor the eyes by using the ears, nor the taste by using the understanding. So, the conscience can be strength- ened, not by using the memory, or the taste, or the under- standing ; but by using the conscience, and by using it precisely according to the laws, and under the conditions, designed by our Creator. The conscience is not improved"] by the reading of moral essays, nor by committing to f memory moral precepts, nor by imagining moral vicissi- tudes ; but by hearkening to its monitions, and obeying its_[ impulses. If we reflect upon the nature of the monition of con- science, we shall find that its office is of a threefold character. 72 THE LAW BY WHICH ] . It enables us to discover the moral quality of actions. _ . kwtpuCttvA rp<4iui i j ^ -\ j 2. It impels us to do right, and to avoid doing wrong. 3. It is a source of pleasure, when we have done right, , and of pain, when we have done wrong. Let us illustrate the manner in which it may be im- proved, and injured, in each of these respects. I. Of the improvement of the discriminating power of conscience. 1. The discriminating power of conscience is improved by reflecting upon the moral character of our actions, both \ before and after we have performed them. If, before we resolve upon a course of conduct, or before we suffer our- selves to be committed to it, we deliberately ask, Is this right ? Am I now actuated by appetite, by self-love, or by conscience? we shall seldom mistake the path of duty. After an action has been performed, if we deliberately and impassionately examine it, we may without difficulty de- cide whether it was right or wrong. Now, with every such effort as this, the discriminating power of conscience is strengthened. We discern moral differences more dis- tinctly ; and we distinguish between actions, that before seemed blended and similar. 2. The discriminating power of conscience is improved, by meditating upon characters of pre-eminent excellence, and specially upon the character of God our Creator, and Christ our Redeemer, the Fountain of all moral excellence. As we cultivate taste, or our susceptibility to beauty, by meditating upon the most finished specimens of art, or the most lovely scenery in nature, so conscience, or our moral susceptibility, is\improved, by meditating upon any thing eminent for moral goodness. It is hence, that example produces so powerful a moral effect ; and hence, that one single act of heroic virtue, as that of Howard, or of illus- trious self-denial, gives a new impulse to the moral char- acter of an age. ( Men cannot reflect upon such actions, without the proouction of a change in their moral suscep- tibility. Hence, the effect of the Scripture representations of the character of God, and of the moral glory of the heavenly state. The Apostle Paul refers to this principle, when he says, " We all, with open face, beholding, as in a CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED. 73 glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." On the contrary, the discriminating power of conscience may be injured, 1. By neglecting to reflect upon the moral character of our actions, both before and after we have performed them. As taste is rendered obtuse by neglect, so that we fail to dis- tinguish between elegance and vulgarity, and between beauty and deformity ; so, if we yield to the impulses of passion, and turn a deaf ear to the monitions of conscience, the dividing line between right and wrong seems gradually to become obliterated. We pass from the confines of the one into those of the other, with less and less sensation, and at last neglect the distinction altogether. Horace remarks this fact : Fas atque nefas, exiguo fine, libidinum Discernunt avidi. This is one of the most common causes of the grievous moral imperfection which we every where behold. Men act without moral reflection. They will ask, respecting an action, every question before that most important one, Is it right ? and, in the great majority of cases, act without putting to themselves this question at all. " The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel doth not know, my people do not consider." If any man doubt whether this be true, let him ask himself, How large is the portion of the actions which I perform, upon which I deliberately decide whether they be right or wrong ? And on how large a portion of my actions do I form such a decision, after they have been performed ? For the want of this reflection, the most pernicious habits are daily formed or strengthened ; and, when to the power of habit is added the seductive influence of passion, it is not won- derful that the virtue of man should be the victim. 2. The discriminating power of conscience is impaired by frequent meditation upon vicious character and action. By frequently contemplating vice, our passions become excited, and our moral disgust diminishes. Thus, also, by 7 74 THE LAW BY WHICH becoming familiar with wicked men, we learn to associate whatever they may possess of intellectual or social interest, with their moral character; and hence our ahorrence of vice is lessened. Thus, men who are accustomed to view, habitually, any vicious custom, cease to have their moral feelings excited by beholding it. All this is manifest, from the facts made known in the progress of every moral refor- mation. Of so delicate a texture has God made our moral nature, and so easily is it either improved or impaired. Pope says, truly, Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be dreaded, needs but to be seen ; But, seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. It is almost unnecessary to remark, that this fact will enable us to estimate the value of much of our reading, and of much of our society. Whatever fills the memory with scenes of vice, or stimulates the imagination to conceptions of impurity, vulgarity, profanity, or thoughtlessness, must, by the whole of this effect, render us vicious. As a man of literary sensibility will avoid a badly written book, for fear of injuring his taste, by how much more should we dread the communion with any thing wrong, lest it should contaminate our imagination, and thus injure our moral sense ! II. The impulsive power of conscience is improved by use, and weakened by disuse. To illustrate this law, we need only refer to the elements of man's active nature. We are endowed with appetites, passions, and self-love, in all their various forms ; and any one of them, or all of them, may, at times, be found impel- ling us towards actions in opposition to the impulsion of conscience ; and, of course, one or the other impulse must be resisted. Now, as the law of our faculties is universal, that they are strengthened by use, and weakened by disuse, it is manifest, that, when we obey the impulse of conscience, and resist the impulse of passion, the power of conscience is strengthened ; and, on the contrary, when we obey the impulse of passion, and resist that of conscience, the power CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED. 75 of passion is strengthened. And, yet more, as either of these is strengthened, its antagonist impulse is weakened. Thus, every time a man does right, he gains a victory over his lower propensities, acquires self-control, and becomes more emphatically a freeman. Every time a man does wrong, that is, yields to his lower propensities, he loses self- control, he gives to his passions power over him, he weakens the practical supremacy of conscience, and becomes more perfectly a slave. The design of the Christian religion, in this respect, is to bring us under the dominion of conscience, enlightened by revelation, and to deliver us from the slavery of evil propensity. Thus, our Lord declares, " If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." And, on the contrary, " Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant (the slave) of sin." Again. It is to be remarked, that there exists a recipro- cal connection between the use of the discriminating and of the impulsive power of conscience. The more a man reflects upon moral distinctions, the greater will be the practical influence which he will find them to exert over him. And it is still more decidedly true, that, the more implicitly we obey the impulsions of conscience, the more acute will be its power of discrimination, and the more prompt and definite its decisions. This connection between theoretical knowledge and practical application, is frequently illustrated in the other faculties. He who delineates objects of loveliness, finds the discriminating power of taste to improve. And thus, also, this effect, in morals, is frequent- ly alluded to in the Scriptures. Our Savior declares, " If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine." Thus, also, " Unto him that hath, shall be given, and he shall have abundance ; but from him that hath not (that is, does not improve what he has), shall be taken away even that which he hath." Thus, also, the Apostle Paul : " I Keseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, tjiat ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God, which is your rational service ; and be ye not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed unto the renewing of your 76 THE LAW BY WHICH mind, that (so that, to the end that) ye may Tcnoiv what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of the Lord." III. The sensibility of conscience, as a source of pleas- ure or of pain, is strengthened by use, and weakened by disuse. The more frequently a man does right, the stronger is his impulse to do right, and the greater is the pleasure that Jesuits from the doing of it. A liberal man derives a pleasure from the practice of charity, of which the covetous man can form no conception. A beneficent man is made happy by acts of self-denial and philanthropy, while a selfish man performs an act of goodness by painful and strenuous effprt, and merely to escape the reproaches of conscience.^ By the habitual exercise of the benevolent affections, a man becomes more and more capacious of vir- tue, capable of higher and more disinterested and more self-denying acts of mercy, until he becomes an enthusiast, in goodness, loving to do good better than any thing else. And, in the same manner, the more our affections to God are exercised, the more constant and profound is the happiness which they create, and the more absolutely is every other wish absorbed by the single desire to do the will of God. Illustrations of these remarks may be found in the lives of the Apostle Paul, John Howard, and other philanthropists. Thus, it is said of our Savior, " He went about doing good." And h^p says of himself, " My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish his work." And it deserves to be remarked, that, in our present state, opportunities for moral improvement and moral pleas- ure are incessantly occurring. Under the present conditions of our being, there are every where, and at all times, sick to be relieved, mourners to be comforted, ignorant to be taught, vicious to be reclaimed, and men, by nature enemies to God, to be won back to reconciliation to Him. The season for moral labor depends not, like that for physical labor, upon vicissitudes beyond our control: it depends solely upon our own will. This I suppose to be the gener- al principle involved in our Savior's remark to his Apostles : " Say ye not, There are four months, and then cometh the / CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED. 77 harvest ? Lift up your eyes, and look upon the fields, for they are white already to the harvest." That is, the fields are always waiting for the laborer in the moral harvest. And, on the contrary, the man who habitually violates his conscience, not only is more feebly impelled to do right, but he becomes less sensible to the pain of doing wrong. A child feels poignant remorse after the first act of pilfer- ing. Let the habit of dishonesty be formed, and he will be- come so hackneyed in sin, that he will perpetrate robbery with no other feeling than that of mere fear of detection. The first oath almost palsies the tongue of the stripling. It requires but a few months, however, to transform him into the bold and thoughtless blasphemer. The murderer, after the death of his first victim, is agitated with all the horrors of guilt. He may, however, pursue his trade of blood, until he have no more feeling for man,_than the butcher for the animal which he slaughters. Burk, who was in the habit of murdering men, for the' purpose of selling their bodies to the surgeons for dissection, confessed this of him- self. Nor is this true of individuals alone. Whole com- munities may become so accustomed to deeds of violence, as not merely to lose all the milder sympathies of their nature, but also to take pleasure in exhibitions of the most revolting ferocity. Such was the case in Rome at the period of the gladiatorial contests ; and such was the fact in Paris at the time of the French revolution. This also serves to illustrate a frequently repeated aph- orism, Quern Deus vult perdere, prius dement at. As a man becomes more wicked, he becomes bolder in crime. Un- checked by conscience, he ventures upon more and more atrocious villany, and he does it with less and less precau- tion. As, in the earliest stages of guilt, he is betrayed by timidity, in the later stages of it, he is exposed by his reck- lessness. He is thus discovered by the very effect which his conduct is producing upon his own mind. Thus, oppressors and despots seem to rush upon their own ruin, as though bereft of reason.' Such limits has our Creator, by the conditions of our being, set to the range of human atrocity. Thus we see, that, by every step in our progress in 78 THE LAW BY WHICH, ETC. virtue, the succeeding step becomes less difficult. In pro- portion as we deny our passions, they become less imper- ative. The oftener we conquer them, the less is the moral effort necessary to secure the victory, and the less frequently and the less powerfully do they assail us. By every act of successful resistance, we diminish the tremendous power of habit over us, and thus become more perfectly under the government of our own will. Thus, with every act of obedience to conscience, our character is fixed upon a more immovable foundation. And, on the contrary, by every act of vicious indulgence, we give our passions more uncontrolled power over us, and diminish the power of reason and of conscience. Thus, by every act of sin, we not only incur new guilt, but we strengthen the bias towards sin, during the whole of our subsequent being. Hence every vicious act renders our return to virtue more difficult and more hopeless. The tendency of such a course is, to give to habit the power which ought to be exerted by our will. And, hence, it is not improbable, that the conditions of our being may be such, as to allow of our arriving at such a state, that reformation may be actually impossible. That the Holy Scriptures allude to such a condition during the present life, is evident. Such, also, is probably the necessary con- dition of the wicked in another world. In stating the change thus produced upon our moral nature, it deserves to be remarked, that this loss of sensi- bility is, probably, only temporary. There is reason to believe, that no impressions made upon the human soul, during its present probationary state, are ever permanently erased. Causes operating merely upon man's physical nature, frequently revive whole trains of thought, and even the knowledge of languages, which had been totally forgot- ten during the greater portion of a long life. This seems to show, that the liability to lose impressions, once made upon us, depends upon some condition arising from our material nature only, and that this liability will cease as soon as our present mode of existence terminates. That is to say, if the power of retaining knowledge is always the same, but if our consciousness of knowledge is veiled RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 79 by our material organs, when these have been laid aside, our entire consciousness will return. Now, indications of the same nature are to be found in abundance, with respect to conscience. Wicked men, after having spent a life in prosperous guilt, and without being in trouble like other men, are frequently, without any assignable cause, tor- mented with all the agonies of remorse ; so that the mere consciousness of guilt has become absolutely intolerable, and they have perished by derangement, or by suicide. The horrors of a licentious sinner's death bed, present a striking illustration of the same solemn fact. A scene of this sort has been, no less vividly than accurately, described by Dr. Young, in the death of Altamont. All these things should be marked by us as solemn warnings. They show us of what the constitution, under which we exist, is capa- ble ; and it is in forms like these, that the " coming events " of eternity " cast their shadows before." In such indexes, There is seen The baby figures of the giant mass Of things to come at large. SHAKS. SECTION V. \ RULES IFOR MORAL CONDUCT, DERIVED FROM THE PRECEDING REMARKS. Several plain rules of conduct are suggested by the above remarks, which may more properly be introduced here, than in any other place. I. Before you resolve upon an action, or a course of action,, 1. Cultivate the habit of deciding upon its moral char- acter. Let the first question always be, Is this action right ? For this purpose, God gave you this faculty. If you do not use it, you are false to yourself, and inexcusable before God. We despise a man who never uses his reason, and 80 RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. scorn him as a fool. Is he not much more to be despised, who neglects to use a faculty of so much higher authority than reason ? And let the question, Is this right ? be asked first, before imagination has set before us the seduc- tions of pleasure, or any step has been taken, which should pledge our consistency of character. If we ask this question first, it can generally be decided with ease. If we wait until the mind is agitated and harassed by con- tending emotions, it will not be easy to decide correctly. 2. Remember that your conscience has become imper- fect, from your frequent abuse of it. Hence, in many cases, its discrimination will be indistinct. Instead of decid- ing, it will, frequently, only doubt. That doubt should be, generally, as imperative as a decision. When you, there- fore, doubt, respecting the virtue of an action, do not per- form it, unless you as much doubt whether you are at liberty to refrain from it. Thus, says President Edwards, in one of his resolutions : " Resolved, never to do any thing, of which I so much question the lawfulness, as that I intend, at the same time, to consider and examine after- wards, whether it be lawful or not ; except I as much ques- tion the lawfulness of the omission." 3. Cultivate, on all occasions, in private or in public, in small or great, in action or in thought, the habit of obeying the monitions of conscience ; all other things to the con- trary notwithstanding. Its slightest touches, instant pause ; Debar a' side pretences ; And, resolutely, keep its laws, Uncaring consequences. BURNS. The supremacy of conscience imposes upon you the obli- gation to act thus. You cannot remember, in the course of your whole life, an instance in which you regret having obeyed it ; and you cannot remember a single instance in which you do not regret having disobeyed it. There can nothing happen to you so bad as to have done wrong : there can nothing be gained so valuable as to have done right. And remember, that it is only by cultivating the practical supremacy of conscience over every other impulse, RULES FOB MORAL CONDUCT. 81 that you can attain to that bold, simple, manly, elevated character, which is essential to true greatness. This has been frequently taught us, even by the heathen poets : Virtus, repulsae nescia sordid, Intaminatis fulget honoribus : Nee sumit aut ponit secures Arbitrio popularis aurse : Virtus, recludens immeritis mori Coelum, negata tentat iter via ; Ccetusque vulgares et udam Spernit humum fugiente penna. HOR. Lib. 3, Car. 2. A greater than a heathen has said, " If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light ; " and has enforced the precept by the momentous question, " What shall it profit a man, though he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ? " II. After an action has been per formed, 1. Cultivate the habit of reflecting upon your actions, and upon the intention with which they have been per- formed, and of thus deciding upon their moral character. This is called self-examination. It is one of the most important duties in the life of a moral, and specially of a probationary existence. 'Tis greatly wise, to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to Heaven, And how they might have borne more welcome news. a. Perform this duty deliberately. It is not the business of hurry or of negligence. Devote time exclusively to it. Go alone. Retire within yourself, and weigh your actions coolly and carefully, forgetting all other things, in the con- viction that you are a moral and an accountable being. b. Do it impartially. Remember that you are liable to be misled by the seductions of passion, and the allure- ments of self-interest. Put yourself in the place of those around you, and put others in your own place, and remark how you would then consider your actions. Pay great 8*2 RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. attention to the opinions of your enemies : there is generally foundation, or, at least, the appearance of it, in what they say of you. But, above all, take the true and perfect standard of moral character, exhibited in the precepts of the gospel, and exemplified in the life of Jesus Christ ; and thus examine your conduct by the light that emanates from the holiness of heaven. 2. Suppose you have examined yourself, and arrived at a decision respecting the moral character of your actions. 1. If you are conscious of having done right, be thank- ful to that God who has mercifully enabled you to do so. Observe the peace and serenity which fills your bosom, and remark how greatly it overbalances the self-denials which it has cost. Be humbly thankful that you have made some progress in virtue. 2. If the character of your actions have been mixed, that is, if they have proceeded from motives partly good and partly bad, labor to obtain a clear view of each, and of the circumstances which led you to confound them. Avoid the sources of this confusion ; and, when you per- form the same actions again, be specially on your guard against the influence of any motive of which you now disapprove. 3. If conscience convicts you of having acted wrongly, 1. Reflect upon the wrong, survey the obligations which you have violated, until you are sensible of your guilt. 2. Be willing to suffer the pains of conscience. They are the rebukes of a friend, and are designed to withhold you from the commission of wrong in future. Neither turn a neglectful ear to its monitions, nor drown its voice amid the bustle of business, or the gayety of pleasure. 3. Do not let the subject pass away from your thoughts, until you have come to a settled resolution, a resolution founded on moral disapprobation of the action, never to do so any more. 4. If restitution be in your power, make it, without hesitation, and do it immediately. The least that a man ought to be satisfied with, who has done wrong, is to repair the wrong as. soon as it is possible. 5. As every act of wrong is a sin against God, seek, in hum- RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 83 ble penitence, his pardon, through the merits and interces- sion of his Son, Jesus Christ. 6. Remark the actions, or the courses of thinking, which were the occasions of leading you to do wrong. Be specially careful to avoid them in future. To this effect, says President Edwards, " Resolved, that when I do any conspicuously evil action, to trace it back, till I come to the original cause ; and then both carefully endeavor to do so no more, and to fight and pray, with all my might, against the original of it." 7. Do all this, in humble dependence upon that merciful and every where present Being, who is always ready to grant us all assistance necessary to keep his commandments ; and who will never leave us, nor forsake us, if we put our trust in him. It seems, then, from what has been remarked, that we are all endowed with conscience, or a faculty for discerning a moral quality in human actions, impelling us towards right, and dissuading us from wrong ; and that the dictates of this faculty are felt and known to be of supreme au- thority. The possession of this faculty renders us accountable creatures. Without it, we should not be specially distin- guished from the brutes. With it, we are brought into moral relations with God, and all the moral intelligences in the universe. It is an ever-present faculty. It always admonishes us, if we will listen to its voice, and frequently does so, even when we wish to silence its warnings. Hence, we may always know our duty, if we will but inquire for it. We can, therefore, never have any excuse for doing wrong, since no man need do wrong, unless he chooses ; and no man will do it ignorantly, unless from criminal neglect of the faculty which God has given him. How solemn is the thought, that we are endowed with such a faculty, and that we can never be disunited from it ! It goes with us through all the scenes of life, in company and alone, admonishing, warning, reproving, and recording ; and, as a source of happiness or of misery, it. must &de 84 RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. with us for ever. Well doth it become man, then, to rev- erence himself. And thus we see, that, from his moral constitution, were there no other means of knowledge of duty, man is an accountable creature. Man is under obligation to obey the will of God, in what manner soever signified. That it is signified in this manner, I think there cannot be a question ; and for this knowledge he is justly held responsible. Thus, the Apostle Paul declares, that " the Gentiles, who have not the law, are a law unto themselves, which show the work of the law, written on their hearts, their consciences being continually excusing or accusing one another." How much greater must be the responsibility of those to whom God has given the additional light of natural and revealed religion ! CHAPTER THIRD THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. SECTION I. OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. IT has been already remarked, that we find ourselves so constituted, as to stand in various relations to all the beings around us, especially to our fellow-men, and to God. There may be, and there probably are, other beings, to whom, by our creation, we are related: but we, as yet, nave no information on the subject; and we must wait until we enter upon another state, before the fact, and the manner of the fact, be revealed. In consequence of these relations, and either by the appointment of God, or from the necessity of the case, if, indeed, these terms mean any thing different from each other, there arise moral obligations to exercise certain affec- tions towards other beings, and to act towards them in a manner corresponding to those affections. Thus, we are taught in the Scriptures, that the relation in which we stand to Deity, involves the obligation to universal and un- limited obedience and love ; and that the relation in which we stand to each other, involves the obligation to love, limited and restricted ; and, of course, to a mode of conduct, in all respects, correspondent to these affections. An action is right, when it corresponds to these obliga- tions, or, which is the same thing, is the carrying into effect of these affections. It is wrong, when it is in violation of these obligations, or is the carrying into effect of any other affections. By means of our intellect, we become conscious of the 8 I .l 86 OF VIRTinE IN GENERAL. relations in which we stand to the beings with whom we are connected. Thus, by the exertion of our intellectual faculties, we become acquainted with the existence and attributes of God, his power, his wisdom, his goodness ; and it is by these same faculties, that we understand and verify those declarations of the Scriptures, which give us additional knowledge of his attributes ; and by which we arrive at a knowledge of the conditions of our being, as creatures, and also of the various relations in which we stand to each other. Conscience, as has been remarked, is that faculty by which we become conscious of the obligations arising from these relations ; by which we perceive the quality of right in those actions which correspond to these obligations, and of wrong in those actions which violate them ; and by which we are impelled towards the one, and repelled from . the other. It is, manifestly, the design of this faculty to suggest to us this feeling of obligation, as_sopn_as the rela- tions on which it is founded, are understood ; and thus to excite in us the corresponding affections.) Now, in a perfectly constituted moral and intellectual being, it is evident, that there would be a perfect adjust- ment between these external qualities and the internal faculties. A perfect eye is an eye that, under the proper conditions, would discern every variety and shade of color, in every object which it was adapted to perceive. The same remark would apply to our hearing, or to any other sense. So, a perfectly constituted intellect would, under the proper conditions, discern the relations in which the being stood to other beings; and a perfectly constituted conscience would, at the same time, become conscious of all the obligations which arose from such relations, and would impel us to the corresponding courses of conduct. That is, there would exist a perfect adaptation between the external qualities which were addressed to these faculties, and the faculties themselves, to which these qualities were addressed. Hence, in a being thus perfectly constituted, it is mani- fest, that virtue, the doing of right, or obedience to con- science, would mean the same thing. OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. &7 / ' ; ~~~ * \ When, however, we speak of the perfection of a moral j organization, we speak of the perfection of adjustment be- tween the faculty of conscience, and the relations and obli- Jgations under which the particular being is created. Hence, this very perfection admits of various gradations and modi- \fications. /" For example: 1. The relations of the same being change, during the progress of its existence, from infancy, through childhood and manhood, until old age. This change of relations involves a change of obligations ; and the perfection of its moral organization would consist in the perfect adjustment of its moral faculty to its moral relations, throughout the whole course of its history. Now, the tendency of this change is, manifestly, from less to greater ; that is, from less imperative to more imperative, and from less numerous to more numerous obligations. That is, the tendency of the present system is to render beings more and more capa- cious of virtue and of vice, as far as we are permitted to have any knowledge of them. 2. As it is manifestly impossible for us to conceive either how numerous, or how important, may be our relations to other creatures, in another state, or how much more intimate may be the relations in which we shall stand to our Crea- tor ; [an J, as there can be no limit conceived to our power /of comprehending these relations, nor to our power of be- coming conscious of the obligations which they involve ; \ c< ^ I so, it is manifest, that no limit can be conceived to the \ ^ \progress of man's capacity for virtue. It evidently contains j jwithin itself elements adapted to infinite improvement, in / [any .state in which we may exist. / 3. Andjhe^same may be said of x vice. As our obliga- tions must, from what we already know, continue to in- crease, and our power for recognizing them must also continue to increase ; if we perpetually violate them, we become more and more capable of wrong ; and thus, also, become more and more intensely vicious. And thus, the /very elements of a moral constitution, seem to involve the ( necessity of illimitable progress, either in virtue or in vice, so long as we exist. 4. And as, on the one hand, we can have no conception 88 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. of the amount of attainment, both in virtue and vice, of which man is capable, so, on the other hand, we can have no conception of the delicacy of that moral tinge by which his character is first designated. We detect moral character at a very early age ; but this by no means proves, that it did not exist long before we detected it. Hence, as it may thus have existed before we were able to detect it, it is manifest that we have no elements by which to determine the time of its commencement. That is to say, in general, we are capable of observing moral qualities within certain limits, as from childhood to old age ; but this is no manner of indication that these qualities may not exist in the being both before, and afterwards, in degrees greatly below and infinitely above any thing which we ate capable of ob- serving. SECTION II. OF VIRTUS IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. Let us now consider this subject in relation to a being whose moral constitution has become disordered. Now, this disorder might be of two kinds : 1. He might not perceive all the relations in which he stood, and which gave rise to moral obligations, and, of course, would be unconscious of the corresponding obliga- tions. 2. He might perceive the relation, but his conscience might be so disordered, as not to feel all the obligation which corresponded to it. What shall we say concerning the actions of such a being ? 1. The relations under which he is constituted are the same, and the obligations arising out of these relations are the same, as though his moral constitution had not become disordered. 2. His actions would all be comprehended under two classes : OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 89 1. Those which came, if I may so express it, within the Hmit of his conscience ; that is, those in which his conscience did correctly intimate to him his obligation ; and, 2. Those in which it did not so intimate it. Now, of the first class of actions, it is manifest that, where conscience did correctly intimate to him his obligations, the doing of right, and obedience to conscience, would, as in the last section, be equivalent terms. But, what shall we say of those without this limit ; that is, of those which he, from the conditions of his being, is under obligation to perform ; but of which, from the de- rangement of his moral nature, he does not perceive the obligation ? 1. Suppose him to perform these very actions, there could be in them no virtue ; for, the man perceiving in them no moral quality, and having towards them no moral im- pulsion, moral obligation could be no motive for performing them. He might act from passion, or from self-love ; but, under such circumstances, as there is no moral motive, there could be no praiseworthiness. Thus, for a judge to do justice to a poor widow, is manifestly right ; but, a man may do this without any moral desert ; for, hear what the unjust judge saith : " Though I fear not God, nor regard man, yet, because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest, by her continual coming, she weary me." It does not, however, follow, that the performing of an action, in this manner, is innocent. The relation in which a being stands to other beings, involves the obligation to certain feelings, as well as to the acts correspondent to those feelings. If the act be performed, and the feeling be wanting, the obligation is not fulfilled, and the man may be guilty. How far he is guilty will be seen below. 2. But, secondly, suppose him not to perform those ac- tions, which are, as we have said, without the limit of his conscience. In how far is the omission of these actions, or the doing of the contrary, innocent ? That is to say, is the impulse of conscience, in an imperfectly constituted moral being, the limit of moral obligation ? This will, I suppose, depend upon the following consid- erations : 8* 90 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 1. His knowledge of the relations in which he stands. If he know not the relations in which he stands to others, and have not the means of knowing them, he is guiltless. If he Icnow them, or have the means of knowing them, and have not improved these means, he is guilty. This is, 1 think, the principle asserted by the Apostle Paul, in his Epistle to the Romans. He asserts, that the heathen are guilty in sinning against God, because His attributes may be known by the light of nature. He also asserts that there will be a difference between the condemnation of the Jews and that of the heathen, on the ground that the Jews were informed of many points of moral obligation, which the heathen could not have ascertained, without a revela- tion : " Those that sin without law, shall perish without law ; and those that have sinned in the law, shall be judged by the law." 2. His guilt will depend, secondly, on the cause of this imperfection of his conscience. Were this imperfection of conscience not the result of his own act, he would be guiltless. But, in just so far as it is the result of his own conduct, he is responsible. And, inasmuch as imperfection of conscience, or diminution of moral capacity, can result from nothing but voluntary trans- gression ; I suppose that he must be answerable for the whole amount of that imperfection. We have already seen, that conscience may be improved by use, and injured by disuse, or by abuse. Now, as a man is entitled to all the benefits which accrue from the faithful improvement of his conscience, so he is responsible for all the injury that results from the abuse of it. That this is the fact, is, I think, evident, from obvious considerations : 1. It is well known, that the repetition of wickedness produces great stupidity of conscience, or, as it is frequently termed, hardness of heart. But no one ever considers this stupidity as in any manner an excuse. It is, on the con- trary, always held to be an aggravation of crime. Thus, we term a man, who has become so accustomed to crime, that he will commit murder without feeling and without regret, a remorseless murderer, a cold-blooded assassin ; and OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 91 every one knows that, by these epithets, we mean to des- ignate a special and additional element of guiltiness. This I take to be the universal sentiment of man. 2. The assertion of the contrary would lead to results manifestly erroneous. Suppose two men, of precisely the same moral attain- ments, to-day, to commence, at the same time, two courses of conduct, diametrically opposed to each other. The first, by the scrupulous doing of right, cultivates, to the utmost, his moral nature, and increases, with every day, his capa- city for virtue. The sphere of his benevolent affections en- larges, and the play of his moral feelings becomes more and more intense, until he is filled with the most ardent desire to promote the welfare of every fellow-creature, and to do the will of God with his whole heart. The other, by a continued course of crime, gradually destroys the sus- ceptibility of his conscience, and lessens his capacity for virtue, until his soul is filled with hatred to God, and no other feeling of obligation remains, except that of fidelity to his copartners in guilt. Now, at the expiration of this period, if both of these men should act according to what each felt to be the dictate of conscience, they would act very differently. But, if a man can be under obligation to do, and to leave undone, nothing but what his conscience, at a particular moment, indicates, I do not see but that these men would be, in the actions of that moment, equally innocent. The only difference be- tween them, so far as the actions of a particular moment were concerned, would be the difference between a virtuous man and a virtuous child. From these facts, we are easily led to the distinction be- tween right and wrong, and innocence and guilt. Right and wrong depend upon the relations under which beings are created ; and, hence, the obligations resulting from these relations are, in their nature, fixed and unchangeable. Guilt and innocence depend upon the knowledge of these A relations, and of the obligations arising from them. As* these are manifestly susceptible of variation, while right f and wrong are invariable, the two notions may manifestly not always correspond to each other. 92 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. Thus, for example, an action may be wrong ; but, if the actor have no means of knowing it to be wrong, he is held morally guiltless, in the doing of it. Or, again, a man may have a consciousness of obligation, and a sincere desire to act in conformity to it; and may, from ignorance of the way in which that obligation is to be discharged, perform an act in its nature wrong ; yet, if he have acted according to the best of his possible knowledge, he may not only be held guiltless, but even virtuous. And, on the contrary, ii a man do what is actually right, but without a desire to fulfil the obligation of which he is conscious, he is held to be guilty ; for he has not manifested a desire to act in obedience to the obligations under which he knew himself to be created. Illustrations of these remarks may be easily drawn from the ordinary affairs of life, or from the Scriptures. And, hence, we also arrive at another principle, of impor- tance in our moral judgments, namely, that our own con- sciousness of innocence, or our not being conscious of guilt, is by no means a sufficient proof of our innocence. A man may never have reflected on the relations in which he stands to other men, or to God ; and, hence, may be con- scious of no feeling of obligation toward either, in any or in particular respects. This may be the fact ; but his inno- cence would not be established, unless he can also show that he has faithfully and impartially used all the powers which God has given him, to obtain a knowledge of these relations. Or, again, he may understand the relation, and have no corresponding sensibility. This may be the fact ; but his innocency would not be established, unless he can also show that he has always faithfully and honestly obeyed his conscience, so that his moral insensibility is, in no man- ner, attributable to his own acts. Until these things can be shown, the want of consciousness of guilt will be no proof of innocence. To this principle, if I mistake not, the Apostle Paul alludes, in 1 Cor. iv. 3, 4 : " But with me, it is a very small thing to be judged of you, or of man's judg- ment : yea, I judge not my ownself, for I know nothing of my ownself (or, rather, I am conscious of nothing wrong in myself; that is, of no unfaithfulness in office) ; yet, am I not hereby justified : but he that judgeth me is the Lord." OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 93 / And, ihus, a man may do great wrong, and be deepH guilty, in respect to a whole class of obligations, without^ 1 being, in any painful degree, sensible of it. Such I think! \to be the moral state in which rn.en, in general, are, in) \respect to their obligations to God. / Thus, saith our Savior to the Jews : " I know you, that ye have not the love of God in you ; " while they were supposing themselves to be the special favorites of Heaven. From these remarks, we may also learn the relation in which beings, created as we are, stand to moral law. Man is created with moral and intellectual powers, capa- ble of progressive improvement. Hence, if he use his faculties as he ought, he will progressively improve ; that/ and more capable of.yirtueJ He is assured of enjoying all the benefits which can result from such improvement. If he use these faculties as he ought not, and become less and less capable of virtue, he is hence held responsible for all the consequences of his misimprovement. Now, as this misimprovement is his own act, for which he is responsible, it manifestly does not affect the relations under which he is created, nor the obligations resulting from these relations ; that is, he stands, in respect to the moral requirements under which he is created, precisely in the same condition as if he had always used his moral powers correctly. That is to say, under the present moral consti- tution, every man is justly held responsible, at every period of his existence, for that degree of virtue of which he would have been capable, had he, from the first moment of his existence, improved his moral nature, in every respect, just as he ought to have done. In other words, suppose some human being to have always lived thus, (Jesus Christ, for instance,) every man, supposing him to have the same means of knowing his duty, would, at every successive period of his existence, be held responsible for the same degree of virtue as such a perfect being attained to, at the corresponding periods of his existence. Such I think evidently to be the nature of the obligation which must rest upon such beings, throughout the whole extent of their duration. In order to meet this increasing responsibility, in such a manner as to fulfil the requirements of moral law, a being 94 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS under such a constitution, must, at every moment of his existence, possess a moral faculty, which, by perfect previ- ous cultivation, is adapted to the responsibilities of that particular moment. But, suppose this not to have been the case ; and that, on the contrary, his moral faculty, by once doing wrong, has become impaired, so that it either does not admonish him correctly of his obligations, or that he has become indisposed to obey its monitions. This must, at the next moment, terminate in action more at variance with rectitude than before. The adjustment be- tween conscience and the passions, must become deranged ; and thus, the tendency, at every successive moment, must be, to involve him deeper and deeper in guilt. And, unless some other moral force be exerted in the case, such must be the tendency for ever. And suppose some such force to be exerted, and, at an) period of his existence, the being to begin to obey his con- science in every one of its present monitions. It is mani- fest, that he would now need some other and more perfect guide, in order to inform him perfectly of his obligations, and of the mode in which they were to be fulfilled. And, supposing this to be done : as he is at this moment respon- sible for such a capacity for virtue, as would have been attained by a previously perfect rectitude ; and as his capa- city is inferior to this ; and as no reason can be suggested, why his progress in virtue should, under these circum- stances, be more rapid than that of a perfect being, but the contrary ; it is manifest, that he must ever fall short of what is justly required of him, nay, that he must be continually falling farther and farther behind it. And hence, the present constitution tends to show us the remediless nature of moral evil, under the government of God, unless some other principle, than that of Jaw, be admitted into the case. These conditions of being having been violated, unless man be placed under some other con- ditions, natural religion would lead us to believe, that he must suffer the penalty, whatever it be, of wrong. Peni- tence could in no manner alter his situation ; for it is merely a temper justly demanded, in consequence of his sin. But this could not replace him in his original relation to the law OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 95 which had been violated. Such seems to be the teachings of the Holy Scriptures ; and they seem to me to declare, moreover, that this change in the conditions of our being, has been accomplished by the mediation of a Redeemer, by which change of conditions we may, through the obedience of another, be justified (that is, treated as though just), although we are, by confession, guilty. And hence, although it were shown that a man was, at any particular period of his being, incapable of that degree of virtue which the law of God required, it would neither follow that he was not under obligation to exercise it, nor that he was not responsible for the whole amount of that exercise of it ; since, if he have dwarfed his own powers, he is responsible for the result. And, conversely, if God require this whole amount of virtue, it will not prove that man is now capable of exercising it ; but only, that he is either thus capable, or, that he would have been so, if he had used correctly the powers which God gave him. A few suggestions respecting the moral relations of habit, will close this discussion. Some of the most important facts respecting habit, are the following: It is found to be the fact, that the repetition of any physical act, at stated periods, and especially after brief intervals, renders the performance of the act easier ; it is accomplished in less time, with less effort, with less ex- pense of nervous power, and of mental energy. This is exemplified, every day, in the acquisition of the mechan- ical arts, and in learning the rudiments of music. And whoever will remark, may easily be convinced, that a great part of our education, physical and intellectual, in so far as it is valuable, consists in the formation of habits. The same remarks apply, to a very considerable extent, to moral habits. x The repetition of a virtuous act produces a tendency to continued repetition ; the force of opposing motives is les- sened ; the power of the will over passion is more decided; and the act is accomplished with less moral effort. Perhaps we should express the fact truly, by saying, that, by the repetition of virtuous acts, moral power is gained j while 96 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. for the performance of the same acts, less moral power is required. On the contrary, by the repetition of vicious acts, a tendency is created towards such repetition ; the power of the passions is increased ; the power of opposing forces is diminished; and the resistance to passion requires a greater moral effort ; or, as in the contrary of the preceding case, a greater moral effort is required to resist our passions, while the moral power to resist them is diminished. Now, the obvious nature of such a tendency is, to arrive at a fixed and unalterable moral state. Be . the fact accounted for as it may, I think that habit has an effect upon the will, such as to establish a tendency towards the impossibility to resist it. Thus, the practice of virtue seems to tend towards rendering a man incapable of vice, and the practice of vice towards rendering a man incapa- ble of virtue. It is common to speak of a man as incapa- ble of meanness ; and I think we see men as often, in the same sense, incapable of virtue. And, if I mistake not, we always speak of the one incapacity as an object of praise, and of the other as an object of blame. If we inquire, what are the moral effects of such a con- dition of our being, I think we shall find them to be as follows : 1. Habit cannot alter the nature of an action, as right or wrong. It can alter neither our relations to our fellow- creatures, nor to God, nor the obligations consequent upon those relations. Hence, the character of the action must remain unaffected. 2. Nor can it alter the guilt or innocence of the action. As he who acts virtuously, is entitled to the benefit of virtuous action, among which the tendency to virtuous action is included ; so, he who acts viciously, is responsi- ble for all the consequences of vicious action, the corre- spondent tendency to vicious action also included. The conditions being equal, and he being left to his own free choice, the consequences of either course rest justly upon himself. The final causes of such a constitution are also apparent. 1. It is manifestly and precisely adapted to our present OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 97 state, when considered as probationary, and capable of moral changes, and terminating in one where moral change is impossible. The constitution under which we are placed, presents us with the apparent paradox of a state of inces- sant moral change, in which every individual change has a tendency to produce a state that is unchangeable. 2. The fact of such a constitution is, manifestly, in tended to present the strongest possible incentives to virtue, and monitions against vice. It teaches us that conse- quences are attached to every act of both, not only present but future, and, so far as we can see, interminable. As every one can easily estimate the pleasures of vice and the pains of virtue, both in extent and duration ; but, as no one, taking into consideration the results of the ten- dency which each will produce, can estimate the intermi- nable consequences which must arise from either, there is", therefore, hence derived the strongest possible reason, why we should always do right, and never do wrong. 3. And again. It is evident, that our capacity for in- crease in virtue, depends greatly upon the present constitu- tion, in respect to habit. I have remarked, that the effect of the repetition of virtuous action, was to give us greater moral power, while the given action itself required less moral effort. There, hence, arises, if I may so say, a surplus of moral power, which may be applied to the accom- plishment of greater moral achievements. He who has overcome one evil temper, has acquired moral power to overcome another; and that which was first subdued, is kept in subjection without a struggle. He who has formed one habit of virtue practises it, without effort, as a matter of course, .or of original impulse ; and the power thus acquired, may be applied to the attainment of other and more difficult habits, and the accomplishment of higher and more arduous moral enterprises. He who desires to see the influence of habit illustrated, with great beauty and accuracy, will be gratified by the perusal of " The Hermit of Teneriffe," one of the most delightful allegories to be found in the English language. The relation between the moral and the intellectual 9 98 OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. powers, in the moral conditions of our being, may be thus briefly stated : 1. We are created under certain relations to our Creator, and to our fellow-creatures. 2. We are created under certain obligations to our Creator, and our fellow-creatures, in consequence of these relations, obligations to exercise certain affections, and to maintain courses of action correspondent to those affections. 3. By means of our intellectual powers, we perceive these relations. 4. By means of our moral powers, we become conscious of these obligations. 5. The consciousness of these obligations alone, would not always teach us how they were to be discharged ; as, for example, the consciousness of our obligations to God, would not teach us how God should be worshipped, and so in various other cases. It is by the use of the powers of our intellect, that we learn how these moral affections are to be carried into action. The use of the intellect is, therefore, twofold. First, to discover to us our relations. Secondly, to discover in what manner our obligations are to be discharged. 99 CHAPTER FOURTH. HUMAN HAPPINESS. WE have already, on several occasions, alluded to the fact, that God has created every thing double ; a world without us, and a correspondent world within us. He has made light without, and the eye within; beauty without, and taste within ; moral qualities in actions, and conscience to judge of them ; and so of every orfier case. By means of this correspondence, our communication with the external world exists. \ These internal powers are called into exercise by the presence of their correspondent ex temaljobjeels. Thus, the organ of vision is excited by the presence of light, the sense of smell by odors, the faculty of taste by beauty or by deform- ity, and so of the rest. The first, effect of this exercise of these faculties is, that we are conscious of the existence and qualities of surround- ing objects. Thus, by sight, we become conscious of the existence and colors of visible objects ; by hearing, of the existence and sound of audible objects, &c. But, it is manifest, that this knowledge of the existence and qualities of external objects is far from being all the intercourse which we are capable of holding with them. This knowledge of their existence and qualities is, most frequently, attended with pleasure or pain, desire or aver- sion. Sometimes the mere perception itself is immediate- ly pleasing ; in other cases, it is merely the sign of some other quality which has the power of pleasing us. In the first case, the perception produces gratification ; in the other, it awakens desire. That is, we stand in such relations to the external world, that certain objects, besides being capable of being per- ceived, are also capable of giving us pleasure ; and certain 100 HUMAN HAPPINESS. other objects, besides being perceived, are capable of giving us pain. Or, to state the same truth in the other form, we are so made as to be capable, not only of perceiving, but also of being pleased with, or pained by, the various objects by which we are surrounded. This general power of being pleased or pained, may be, and I think frequently is, termed sensitiveness. This sensitiveness, or the power of being made happy by suiTounding objects, is intimately connected with the exer- cise of our various faculties. Thus, the pleasure of vision cannot be enjoyed in any other manner, than by the exer- cise of the faculty of sight. The pleasure of knowledge can be enjoyed in no other way, than by the exercise of the in- tellectual powers. The pleasure of beauty can be enjoyed in no other manner, than by the exercise of the faculty of taste, and of the other subordinate faculties on which this faculty depends. And thus, in general, our sensitiveness derives pleasure from the exercise of those powers which are made necessary for our existence and well-being in our present state. Now, I think thatpve can have no other idea of happi- ness than the exercise of this sensitiveness upon its cor- responding objects and qualities. It' is the gratification of desire, the enjoyment of what we lovej^ or, as Dr. John- son remarks, " Happiness consists in the multiplication of agreeable consciousness." It seems, moreover, evident, that this very constitution is to us an indication of the will of our Creator ; that is, inas- much as he has created us with these capacities for happi- ness, and has also created objects around us precisely adapted to these capacities, he meant that the one should be exercised upon the other ; that is, that we should be made happy in this manner. And this is more evident, from considering that this hap- piness is intimately connected with the exercise of those faculties, the employment of which is necessary to our ex- istence and our well-being. It thus becomes the incitement to or the reward of certain courses of conduct, which it is necessary, to our own welfare, or to that of society, that we should pursue. HUMAN HAPPINESS. 101 And thus we arrive at the general principle, that our \ desire for a particular object, and the existence of the object \ adapted to this desire, is, in itself, a reason why we should | enjoy that object, in the same manner as our aversion to another object, is a reason why we should avoid it. There may sometimes be, it is true, other reasons to the contrary, more authoritative than that emanating from this desire or aversion, and these may and ought to control jt; but this does not show that this desire is not a Veasbn, -and a suffi- cient one, if no better reason can be shown to the contrary. But, if we consider the subject a little more minutely, we shall find that the simple gratification of desire, in the man- ner above stated, is not the only condition on which our happiness depends. We find, by experience, that a desire or appetite may be so gratified as for ever afterwards to destroy its power of producing happiness. Thus, a certain kind of food is pleasant to me ; this is a reason why I should partake of it. But I may eat of it to excess, so as to loathe it for ever afterwards, and thus annihilate, in my constitution, this mode of gratification. Now, the same reasoning which proves that God intended me to partake of this food, namely, because it will promote my happiness, also proves that he did not intend me to partake of it after this manner ; for, by so doing, I have diminished, by this whole amount, my capacity for happiness, and thus defeated, in so far, the very end of my constitution. Or, again, though I may not destroy my desire for a particular kind of food, by a partic- ular manner of gratification, yet I may so derange my system, that the eating of it shall produce pain and distress, so that it ceases to be to me a source of happiness, upon the whole. In this case, I equally defeat the design of my constitution The result equally shows that, although the Creator means that I should eat it, he does not mean that I should eat it in this manner. Again, every man is created with various and dissimilar forms of desire, correspondent to the different external objects designed to promote his happiness. Now, it is found that one form of desire may be gratified in such a manner, as to destroy the power of receiving happiness from 9* 102 HUMAN HAPPINESS. another ; or, on the contrary, the first may be so gratified as to leave the other powers of receiving happiness unim- paired. Since, then, it is granted that these were all given us for the same end, namely, to promote our happiness, if, by the first manner of gratification, we destroy another power of gratification, while, by the second manner of gratification, we leave the other power of gratification unin- jured, it is evidently the design of our Creator that we should limit ourselves to this second mode of gratification. Thus, I am so formed that food is pleasant to me. This, even if there were no necessity for eating, is a reason why I should eat it. But I am also formed with a desire for knowledge. This is a reason why I should study in order to obtain it. That is, God intended me to derive happi- ness from both of these sources of gratification. If, then, I eat in such a manner that I cannot study, or study in such a manner that I cannot eat, in either case, I defeat his design concerning me, by destroying those sources of hap- piness with which he has created me. The same principle might be illustrated in various other instances. Again, we find that the indulgence of any one form of gratification, in such manner as to destroy the power of another form of gratification, also in the end diminishes, and frequently destroys, the power of deriving happiness, even from that which is indulged. Thus, he who eats so as to injure his power of intellectual gratification, injures also his digestive organs, and produces disease, so that his pleasure from eating is diminished. Or, he who studies so as to destroy his appetite, in the end destroys also his power of study. This is another and distinct reason, to show, that, while I am designed to be happy by the gratification of my desires, I am also designed to be happy by gratifying them within a limit. The limit to gratification enters into my constitution, as a being designed for happiness, just as much as the power of gratification itself. And again, our Creator has endowed us with an addi- tional and superior power, by which we can contemplate these two courses of conduct ; by which we can approve of the one, and disapprove of the other ; and by which the one becomes a source of pleasure and the other a source of HUMAN HAPPINESS. 103 pain ; both being separate and distinct from the sources of pain and pleasure mentioned above. And, moreover, he has so constituted us, that this very habit of regulating and limiting our desires, is absolutely essential to our success in every undertaking. Both of these are, therefore, additional and distinct reasons for believing, that the restriction of our desires within certain limits, is made, by our Creator, as clearly necessary to our happiness, as the indulgence of them. All this is true, if we consider the happiness of man merely as an individual. But the case is rendered still stronger, if we look upon man as a society. It is manifest that the universal gratification of any single appetite or passion, without limit, not to say the gratification of all, would, in a very few years, not only destroy society, but absolutely put an end to the whole human race. And, hence, we see that the limitation of our desires is not only necessary to our happiness, but also to our existence. Hence, while it is the truth, that human happiness con- sists in the gratification of our desires, it is not the whole truth. It consists in the gratification of our desires within the limits assigned to them by cur Creator. And, the happiness of that man will be the most perfect, who regu- lates his desires most perfectly in accordance with the laws under which he has been created. And, hence, the greatest happiness of which man is, in his present state, capable, is to be attained by conforming his whole conduct to the laws of virtue, that is, to the will of God. 104 CHAPTER FIFTH. OF SELF-LOVE. BY the term sensitiveness, I have designated the capacity of our nature to derive happiness from thg_varjoiis objects -^ and qualities of the world around us. Though intimately associated with those powers by which we obtain a knowl- edge of external objects, it differs from them. When a desire for gratification is excited by its appropriate objects, it is termed appetite, passion, &c. As our means of gratification are various, and are also attended by different effects, there is evidently an opportu- nity for a choice between them. By declining a gratifica- tion at present, we may secure one of greater value at some future time. That which is, at present, agreeable, may be of necessity followed by pain ; and that which is, at pres- ent, painful, may be rewarded by pleasure which shall far overbalance it. Now, it must be evident, to every one who will reflect, that my happiness, at any one period of my existence, is just as valuable as my happiness at the present period. No one can conceive of any reason, why the present mo- | ment should take the precedence, in any respect, of any other moment of my being. Every moment of my past life was once present, and seemed of special value ; but, in the retrospect, all seem, so far as the happiness of each is concerned, of equal value. Each of those to come may, in its turn, claim some pre-eminence ; though, now, we plainly discover in anticipation, that no one is more than another entitled to it. Nay, if there be any difference, it is manifestly in favor of the most distant future, in comparison with the present. The longer we exist, the greater is our capacity for virtue and happiness, and the wider is our sphere of existence. To postpone the present for the OF SELF-LOVE. 105 future, seems, therefore, to be the dictate of wisdom, if we calmly consider the condition of our being. But, it is of the nature of passion, to seize upon the present gratification, utterly irrespective of consequences, and utterly regardless of other or more excellent gratifica- tions, which may be obtained by self-denial. He whose passions are inflamed, looks at nothing beyond the present gratification. Hence, he is liable to seize upon a present enjoyment, to the exclusion of a much more valuable one in future, and even in such a manner as to entail upon himself poignant and remediless misery. And, hence, in order to be enabled to enjoy all the happiness of which his present state is capable, the sensitive part of man needs to be combined with another, which, upon a comparison of the present with the future, shall impel him towards that mode either of gratification or of self-denial, which shall most promote his happiness upon the whole. Such is self-love. We give this name to that part of our constitution, by which we are incited to do or to for- bear, to gratify or to deny our desires, simply on the ground of obtaining the greatest amount of happiness for ourselves, taking into view a limited future, or else our entire future existence. When we act from simple respect to present gratification, we act from passion. When we act from a respect to our whole individual happiness, without regard to the present, only as it is a part of the whole, and with- out any regard to the happiness of others, only as it will contribute to our own, we are then said to act from self- love. The difference between these two modes of impulsion may be easily illustrated. Suppose a man destitute of self-love, and actuated only by passion. He would seize without reflection, and enjoy without limit, every object of gratification which the present moment might offer, without regard to its value in compar- ison with others, which might be secured by self-denial, and without any regard to the consequences which might follow present pleasure, be they ever so disastrous. On the contrary, we may imagine a being destitute of 106 OF SELF-LOVE. passions, and impelled only by self-love ; that is, by a desire for his own happiness, on the whole. In this case, so far as I see, he would never act at all. Having no desires to gratify, there could be no gratification ; and, hence, there could be no happiness. Happiness is the result of the exercise of our sensitiveness upon its corresponding objects. But we have no sensitiveness which corresponds to any object in ourselves ; nor do ourselves present any object to correspond to such sensitiveness. Hence, the condition of a being, destitute of passions, and actuated only by self-love, would be an indefinite and most painful longing after hap- piness, without the consciousness of any relation to external objects which could gratify it. Nor is this an entirely imaginary condition. In cases of deep melancholy, and of fixed hypochondria, tending to derangement, I think every one must have observed in others, and he is happy if he have not experienced in himself, the tendencies to precisely such a state. The very power of affection, or sensitiveness, seems paralyzed. This state of mind has, I think, been ascribed to Hamlet by Shakspeare, in the fol- lowing passage : " I have, of late (but wherefore I know not), lost all my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises ; and, indeed, it goes so heavily with my dispositions, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air look you this brave overhang- ing firmament ; this majestical roof, fretted with golden fire ; why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. Man delights me not, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so." Hamlet, Act ii, Sc. 2. It would seem, therefore, that self-love is not, in itself, a faculty, or part of our constitution, in itself, productive of happiness ; but rather an impulse, which, out of several forms of gratification which may be presented, inclines us to select that which will be the most for our happiness, considered as a whole. This seems the more evident, from the obvious fact, that a man, actuated by the most zealous self-love, derives no more happiness from a given gratifica- OF SELF-LOVE. 107 tion, than any other man. His pleasure, in any one act of enjoyment, is not in the ratio of his self-love, but of his sensitiveness. From these remarks, we can easily determine the rank to which self-love is entitled. 1. Its rank is superior to that of passion. As our hap- piness, as a whole, is of more consequence than the happi- ness of any separate moment, so the faculty which impels us towards our happiness upon the whole, was manifestly intended to control that which impels toward our happiness for a moment. If happiness be desirable, the greatest amount of it is most desirable ; and, as we are provided with a constitution, by which we are forewarned of the difference, and impelled to a correct choice, it is the design of our Creator that we should obey it. 2. Its rank is .inferior to that of conscience. We are made not only Sensitive beings, that is, beings, .capable of happiness, hut also moral beings; that is, beings capable, of virtue, The latter is manifestly the most important object of our being, even in so far as our own happiness is con- cerned ; for, by the practice of virtue, without respect to our own temporal happiness, we secure our moral happi- ness, the most valuable of any of which even at the present we are capable ; while, by acting for own happiness, when these seern to come into competition, we lose that which is most valuable, and can be by no means certain of obtain- ing the other. That is to say, when our own happiness ami our duty seem to r-.nrno into pnlligipn,, WP ai'Q hound to discard the consideration of our own happiness v_ancLtQ_ do what we believe to be right. This may be illustrated by an example. Suppose that two courses of action are presented to our choice. The one, so far as we can see, will promote our individual happiness ; the other will fulfil a moral obligation. Now, in this case we may act in either of these ways : 1. We may seek our own happiness, and violate our obligations. In this case, we certainly lose the pleasure of virtue, and suffer the pain of remorse, while we must be uncertain whether we shall obtain the object of our desires. 108 OF SELF-LOVE. 2. We may perform the act which conscience indicates, but from our self-love as a motive. Here, we shall gain whatever reward, by the constitution under which we are placed, belongs to the action ; but we lose the pleasure of virtue. 3. We may perform the act indicated by conscience, and from the simple impulse of duty. In this case, we obtain every reward which could be obtained in the pre- ceding case, and, in addition, are blessed with the appro- bation of conscience. Thus, suppose I deliberate whether I shall spend a sum of money in self-gratification, or else in an act of benevolence, which is plainly my duty. If I pursue the former course, it is very uncertain whether I actually secure the gratification which I seek, while I lose the pleasure of rectitude, and am saddened by the pains of remorse. The pleasure of gratification is soon over f but the pain of guilt is enduring. Or, agam, I may perform the act of benevolence from love of ap- plause, or some modification of self-love. I here obtain with more certainty the reputation which I seek, but lose the reward of conscious virtue. Or, thirdly, if I do the act without any regard to my own happiness, and simply from love to God and man, I obtain all the rewards which attach to the action by the constitution under which I am placed, and also enjoy the higher rewards of conscious rectitude. This subordination of motives seems clearly to be re- ferred to by our Savior : " There is no man, that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundred fold now, in this time, and, in the world to come, life everlasting." That is to say, a man does not obtain the reward of virtue, even in self- denial, unless he disregard the consideration of himself, and act from simple love to God. To the same purport is the often repeated observation of our Savior : " Whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; and whosoever will lose his life, for my sake, shall find it." There are many passages of Scripture which seem to assert, that the very turning-point OF SELF-LOVE. 1G9 of moral character, so far as our relations to God are con- cerned, consists in yielding up the consideration of our own happiness, as a controlling motive, and subjecting it, with- out reserve, to the higher motive, the simple will of God. If these remarks be true, we see, 1. That, when conscience speaks, the voice of self-love must be silent. That is to say, we have no right to seek our own happiness. jn,_,anjjm_aaQer- .at varianca .with, .moral obligation,. Nevertheless, from several courses of action, either of which is innocent, we are at liberty to choose that which will most conduce to our own happiness. In such a case, the consideration of our happiness is justly ultimate. 2. The preceding chapter has shown us that man was designed to be made happy by the gratification of his de- sires. The present chapter teaches us, that, when the gratification of desire is at variance with virtue, a greater happiness is to be obtained by self-denial. Or, in other words, our greatest happiness is to be obtained, not by the various modes of self-gratification, but by simply seeking the good of others, and in doing the will of God, from the heart. 3. And, hence, we may arrive at the general principle, that every impulse or desire is supreme within its own assigned limits ; but that, when a lower comes into compe- tition with a higher impulsion, the inferior accomplishes its own object most perfectly, by being wholly subject to the superior. Thus, desire, or the love of present gratification, may, within its own limits, be indulged. But, when this present gratification comes into competition with self-love, even passion accomplishes its own object best ; that is, a man actually attains to more enjoyment, by submitting present desire implicitly to self-love. And so self-love is ultimate within its proper limits ; but when it comes into competition with conscience, it actually qrpnmp1ighpq itth to the relation towards each other intended by their Creator. Hence, if any one will reflect on these facts, and remem- ber the moral law of the Creator, and the terrible sanctions by which his laws are sustained, and also the provision which in the gospel of reconciliation, He has made for re- moving this evil after it has once been established ; he must, I think, be convinced of the imperative obligation which rests upon him to remove it without thq delay of a moment. The Judge of the whole earth will do justice. He hears the cry of the oppressed, and he will, in the end, terribly vindicate right. And, on the other hand, let those who suffer wrongfully, bear their sufferings with patience, com- mitting their souls unto him as unto a faithful Creator. PART II. The right of personal liberty may be violated by SOCIETY. As the right to use the means of happiness which God LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 219 nas given him in such manner as he will, provided he do not violate the corresponding rights of others, is conferred upon the individual by his Creator, it is manifest that no being but the Creator can rightly restrict it. The individual is just as truly, in this sense, independent of society, as he is of individuals. Society is composed of individuals, and can have no other, rights than the individuals of which it is composed, only in just so far as the individual voluntarily, and for an equivalent, has conceded to it, in given and lim- ited respects, some of the rights of which he was originally possessed. Whenever society interferes with these original rights, unless in the cases in which they have been volun- tarily ceded, then the right of personal liberty is violated. Thus, the Declaration of Independence, above quoted, after having asserted the universality of the equality of nien, by virtue of their creation, and that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, proceeds to state, " that, to secure these rights, governments were insti- tuted among men, deriving their just powers from the con- sent of the governed ;" (that is, by the concession of the individual to society ;) " that, when any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundation in such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness." SOCIETY may violate the personal rights of the individual. 1. By depriving him unjustly of his physical liberty, or any of his means of physical happiness. This is done, first, whenever any individual is imprisoned or punished, except for crime. 2. Whenever, although he may have been guilty of crime, he is imprisoned or punished without a fair and im- partial trial ; for, as every man is presumed to be innocent until he shall have been proved to be guilty, to imprison or molest him without such proof is to imprison or molest him while he is innocent. This remark, however, does not apply to the detention of prisoners in order to trial. The detention in this case is not for the purposes of punishment, 220 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL but simply to prevent escape, and as a necessary means for the execution of justice. It is also no injustice ; for it is a power over their persons which the individuals have, for mutual good, conceded to society. 3. Inasmuch as every individual has the right to go where he pleases, under the limitations above specified, this right is violated, not merely by confining him to a particular place, but also by forbidding his going to any particular place within the limits of the society to which he belongs, or by forbidding him to leave it when and how he pleases. As his connection with the society to which he belongs is a voluntary act, his simple will is an ultimate reason why he should leave it ; and the free exercise of this will cannot, without injustice, be restrained. The great clause in the Magna Charta on this general subject, is in these memorable words : " Let no freeman be imprisoned, or disseized, or outlawed, or in any manner injured or proceeded against by us, otherwise than by the legal judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land." And the full enjoyment of this right is guaranteed to every individual in this country and in Great Britain, by the celebrated act of Habeas Corpus : by which, upon a proper presentation of the case before a judge, the judge is under obligation, if there be cause, to command the person who has the custody of another, to bring him immediately before him ; and is also obliged to set the prisoner at large, unless it appear to him that he is deprived of his liberty for a satisfactory reason. 2. Society may violate the rights of the individual by restraining his intellectual liberty. I have before stated that a man has the right to the use of his intellect in such manner as he pleases, provided he interfere not with the rights of others. This includes, first, the right to pursue what studies he pleases ; and, secondly, to publish them when and where he pleases, subject to the above limitation. 1. This right is violated, first, when society, or govern- ment, which is its agent, prohibits any course of study or investigation to which the inclination of the individual may determine him. LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 221 2. When government prohibits him from publishing these results, and from attempting, by the use of argument, to make as many converts to his opinions as he can, in both cases within the limits specified. If it be said, that men may thus be led into error, the answer is, For this error the individuals themselves, and not their neighbor, are respon- sible ; and, therefore, the latter has no authority to interfere. These remarks apply to those cases only, in which the use of the individual's intellect is without injury to the rights of others. They, however, by the terms of the case, exclude those modes of intellectual employment, which do thus interfere. It is obvious, that a man has no more right to restrict, by the use of his intellect, my just control over the means of happiness bestowed upon me, than by the use of his body, or the use of his property. What I have said, therefore, in no manner precludes the right of society to restrict the use of the individual's intel- lect, in those cases where this violation exists. But when this violation is supposed to exist, by what rule is society to be governed, so as, in the exercise of the right of restraint, to avoid infringement of the law of intel- lectual liberty ? I am aware that the decision of this ques- tion is attended with great difficulties. I shall, however, endeavor to suggest such hints as seem to me to throw light upon it, in the hope that the attention of some one better able to elucidate it, may be thus more particularly attracted to the discussion. 1. Society is bound to protect those rights of the indi- vidual which he has committed to its charge. Among these, for instance, is reputation. As the individual relin- quishes the right of protecting his own reputation, as well as his property, society undertakes to protect it for him. 2. Society has the right to prevent its own destruction. As, without society, individual man would, almost univer- sally, perish ; so men, by the law of self-preservation, have a right to prohibit those modes of using a man's mind, as well as those of using his body, by which society would be annihilated. 3. As society has the right to employ its power to pre- vent its own dissolution, it also has the same right to pro- 19* 222 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL tect itself from causeless injury. A man has no more right to carry on a trade by which his neighbor is annoyed, than one by which he is poisoned. S_>, if the employment of a man's intellect be not of such a character as to be positively fatal, yet, if it be positively mischievous, and if such be its manifest tendency, society has a right to interfere and prohibit it. 4. It is, however, a general principle, that society is not to interfere, while the individual has in himself the means of repelling, or of rendering nugatory, the injury. Whenever, therefore, although the publication of opinions be confessedly injurious, the injury is of such a nature, that every individual can protect himself from it, society leaves the individual to the use of that power which he still retains, and which is sufficient to remedy the evil. If I mistake not, these principles will enable us to dis- tinguish between those cases in which it is, and those in which it is not, the duty of society to interfere with the freedom of the human intellect. 1. Whenever the individual possesses within himself the means of repelling the injury, society should not interfere. As, for instance, so far as an assertion is false, and false simply, as in philosophical or mathematical error, men have, in their own understandings and their instinctive perception of truth, a safeguard against injury. And, besides this, when discussion is free, error may be refuted by argument ; and in this contest, truth has always, from the constitution of things, the advantage. It needs not, therefore, physical force to assist it. The confutation of error is also decisive. It reduces it absolutely to nothing. Whereas the forcible prohibition of discussion leaves things precisely as they were, and gives to error the additional advantage of the presumption, that it could not be answered by argument ; that is, that it is the truth. 2. But, suppose the matter made public is also injurious, and is either false, or, if true, is of such a nature as directly to tend to the destruction of. individual or social happiness, and the individual has not in himself the power of repelling the injury. Here, the facts being proved, society is bound to interfere, and impose such penalty, and render such LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 223 redress, as shall, if possible, remunerate the injured party ; or, at least, prevent the repetition of the offence. Under this head, several cases occur : 1 . If a man use his intellect for the purpose of destroy- ing his neighbor's reputation, it is the duty of society to interfere. There is here a manifest injury, inasmuch as reputation is a means of happiness, and as much the prop- erty of an individual, as his house or lands, or any other result of his industry. He has, besides, no method of redress within himself; for he may be ruined by a general assertion, which is in its nature incapable of being disproved. As if A asserted that B had stolen ; this, if believed, would ruin B ; but he could not disprove it, unless he could sum- mon all the men with whom, in his whole life, he had ever had any pecuniary transactions. Besides, if he could do this, he could never convey the facts to all persons to whom A had conveyed the scandal. Were such actions allowed, every one might be deprived of his reputation, one of his most valuable means of happiness. It is the duty of society, therefore, in this case, to guard the rights of the individual, by granting him redress, and preventing the repetition of the injury. 2. Inasmuch as men are actuated by various passions, which are only useful when indulged within certain re- straints, but which, when indulged without these restraints, are destructive of individual right, as well as of society itself ; society has a right to prohibit the use of intellect for the purpose of exciting the passions of men beyond those limits. As he is guilty who robs another, so is he also guilty who incites another to robbery ; and still more, he who incites, not one man, but a multitude of men, to robbery. Hence, society has a right to prohibit obscene books, ob- scene pictures, and every thin^ of which the object and tendency is to promote lasciviousness. On the same ground, it has a right to prohibit incendiary and seditious publications, and every thing which would provoke the enmity or malice of men against each other. The reason of this is, first, injury of this kind cannot be repelled by argument, for it is not addressed to the reason ; and the very mention of the subject excites those imagina- 224 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL tions, from which the injury to society arises. As the evil is susceptible of no other remedy than prohibition, and as the welfare of society requires that a remedy be found, prohibition is the right and the duty of society. Another ^eason, applicable to most publications of this sort, is found in the nature of the parental relation. The parent, being the guardian of his child's morals, has the right of directing what he shall and what he shall not read. Hence, all the parents of a community, that is, society at large, have a right to forbid such books as shall, in their opinion, injure the moral character of their children. 3. Again. Society may be dissolved; not merely by the excitation of unlawful passion, but by the removal of moral restraint. Every one must see that, if moral distinctions were abolished, society could not exist for a moment. Men might be gregarious, but they would cease to be social. If any one, therefore, is disposed to use his intellect for the purpose of destroying, in the minds of men, the dis- tinction between virtue and vice, or any of those funda- mental principles on which the existence of society depends, society has a right to interfere and prohibit him. This right of society is founded, first, upon the right of self-preservation ; and, secondly, upon the ground of com- mon sense. Society is not bound to make, over and over again, an experiment which the whole history of man has proved always to end in licentiousness, anarchy, misery, and universal bloodshed. Nor can any man claim a right to use his mind in a way which must, if allowed, produce unmixed misery and violation of right, wherever its influence is exerted. Besides, in this, as in the other cases specified, society has no means of counteracting the injury by argument ; because such appeals are made, not to the reason and the conscience, but to the rapacious 'passions of men ; and, also, because those persons who would listen to such sug- gestions, would rarely, if ever, be disposed to read, much less to examine and reflect upon, any argument that could be offered. But it may be objected, that a society constituted on these principles, might check the progress of free inquiry, LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 225 and, under the pretext of injurious tendency, limit the liberty of fair discussion. To this it may be answered, It is no objection to a rule, that it is capable of abuse ; for this objection will apply to all laws and to all arrange- ments that man has ever devised. In the present imper- fect condition of human nature, it is frequently sufficient that a rule prevents greater evil than it inflicts. It is granted that men may suppose a discussion injuri- ous when it is not so, and may thus limit, unnecessarily, the freedom of inquiry. But let us see in what manner this abuse is guarded against. The security, in this case, is the trial by jury. When twelve men, taken by lot from the whole community, sit in judgment, and specially when the accused has the right of excepting, for cause, to as many as he will, he is sure of having, at least, an impartial tribunal. These judges are themselves under the same law which they administer to others. As it is not to be supposed that they would wish to abridge their own personal liberty, it is not to be supposed that they would be willing to abridge it for the sake of interfering with that of their neighbor. The question is, therefore, placed in the hands of as impartial judges as the nature of the case allows. To such a tri- bunal, no reasonable man can, on principle, object. To their decision, every candid man would, when his duty to God did not forbid, readily submit. Now, as it must be granted that no man has a right to use his intellect to the injury of a community, the only question in any particular case, is, whether the use com- plained of is injurious, and injurious in such a sense as to require the interference of society. It surely does not need argument to show that the unanimous decision of twelve men is more likely to be correct than the decision of one man ; and specially that the decision of twelve men, who have no personal interest in the affair, is more likely to be correct, than that of one man who is liable to all the influences of personal vanity, love of distinction, and pecu- niary emolument. There surely can be no question whether, in a matter on which the dearest interests of 226 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL others are concerned, a man is to be a judge in his own case, or whether as impartial a tribunal as the ingenuity of man has ever devised, shall judge for him. If it be said that twelve impartial men are liable to error, and by con- sequence to do injustice, it may be answered, How much more liable is one, and he a partial man, to err and to do injustice ! If, then, a system of trial of this sort, not only must prevent more injury than it inflicts, but is free from all liability to injury, except such as results from the ac- knowledged imperfections of our nature, the fault, if it exist, is not in the rule, but in the nature of man, and must be endured until the nature of man be altered. And I cannot close this discussion without remarking, that a most solemn and imperative duty seems to me to rest upon judges, legislators, jurors and prosecuting officers, in regard to this subject. We hear, at the present day, very much about the liberty of the press, the freedom of inquiry, and the freedom of the human intellect. All these are precious blessings by far too precious to be lost. But "t is to be remembered, that no liberty can exist without restraint ; and the remark is as true of intellectual as of physical liberty. As there could be no physical liberty, if every one, both bad and good, did what he would, so there would soon be no liberty, either physical or intellectual, if every man were allowed to publish what he would. The man who publishes what will inflame the licentious passions, or subvert the moral principles of others, is undermining the foundations of the social fabric ; and it is kindness neither to him nor to society, quietly to look on until both he and we are crushed beneath the ruins. The danger to liberty is preeminently greater, at the present day, from the licen- tiousness than from the restriction of the press. It there- fore becomes all civil and judicial officers to act as the guardians of society ; and, unawed by popular clamor, and unseduced by popular favor, resolutely to defend the people against their worst enemies. Whatever may be the form of a government, it cannot long continue free, after it has refused to acknowledge the distinction between the liberty and the licentiousness of the press. And, much as we may execrate a profligate writer, let us remember that the LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 227 civil officer who, from pusillanimity, refuses to exercise the power placed in his hands to restrain abuse, deserves, at least, an equal share of our execration. THIRDLY. The right of religious liberty may be vio- lated by society. We have before said, that every individual has the right to pursue his own happiness, by worshipping his Creator in any way that he pleases, provided he do not interfere with the rights of his neighbor. This includes the following things : He is at liberty to worship God in any form that he deems most acceptable to Him, to worship individually or socially, and to promote that form of worship which he considers acceptable to God, by the promulgation of such sentiments as he be- lieves to be true, provided he leave the rights of his neighbors unmolested ; and of this liberty he is not to be restricted, unless such molestation be made manifest to a jury of his peers. As a man is at liberty to worship God individually or in societies collected for that purpose, if his object can be secured, in his own opinion, by the enjoyment of any of the facilities for association granted to other men for inno- cent purposes, he is entitled to them just as other men are. The general principle applicable to the case, I suppose to be this : A man, in consequence of being religious, that is, of worshipping God, acquires no human right whatever ; for it is, so far as his fellow-men's rights are concerned, the same thing, whether he worship God or not. And, on the other hand, in consequence of being religious, he loses no right, and for the same reason. And, therefore, as men are entitled to all innocent facilities which they need for prosecuting an innocent object, a religious man has the same right to these facilities for promoting his object ; and it is the business of no one to inquire whether this be reli- gious, scientific, mechanical, or any other, so long as it is merely innocent. Now this right is violated by society, 1. By forbidding the exercise of all religion; as in the case of the French Revolution. 2. By forbidding or enforcing the exercise of any form 228 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL of religion. In so far as an act is religious, society has no right of control over it. If it interfere with the rights of others, this puts it within the control of society, and this alone, and solely for this reason. The power of society is, therefore, in this case, exercised simply on the ground of injury perpetrated and proved, and not on account of the truth or falseness, the goodness or badness, of the religion in the sight of the Creator. 3. By inflicting disabilities upon men, or depriving them of any of their rights as men, because they are or are not religious. This violation occurs in all cases in which society interferes to deny to religious men the same privileges for promoting their happiness by way of religion, as they enjoy for promoting their happiness in any other innocent way. Such is the case when religious societies are denied the right of incorporation, with all its attendant privileges, for the purposes of religious worship, and the promotion of their religious opinions. Unless it can be shown that the enjoy- ment of such privileges interferes with the rights of others, the denial of them is a violation of religious liberty. De- priving clergymen of the elective franchise, is a violation of a similar character. 4. By placing the professors of any peculiar form of religion under any disabilities ; as, for instance, rendering them ineligible to office, or in any manner making a dis- tinction between them and any other professors of religion, or any other men. As society has no right to inflict dis- abilities upon men, on the ground of their worshipping God in general, by consequence, it has no right to inflict dis- abilities on the ground of worshipping God in any manner in particular. If the whole subject is without the control of society, a part of it is also without its control. Different modes of worship may be more or less acceptable to God ; but this gives to no man a right to interfere with those means of happiness, which God has conferred upon any other man. The question may arise here, whether society has a right to provide by law for the support of religious instruction. I answer, If the existence of religious instruction be neces- sary to the existence of society, and if there be no other LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED. 229 mode of providing for its support, but by legislative enact- ment, then, I do not see any more violation of principle in such enactment, than in that for the support of common schools ; provided that no one were obliged to attend unless he chose, and that every one were allowed to pay for that form of worship which he preferred. There are other ob- jections, however, to such a course, aside from that arising from the supposed violation of civil liberty. 1. It cannot be shown that religious teachers cannot be supported without legislative aid. The facts teach a differ- ent result. 2. The religion of Christ has always exerted its greatest power when, entirely unsupported, it has been left to exert its own peculiar effect upon the consciences of men. 3. The support of religion by law is at variance with the genius of the gospel. The gospel supposes every man to be purely voluntary in his service of God, in his choice of the mode of worship, of his religious teachers, and of the compensation which he will make to them for their ser- vices. Now, all this is reversed in the supposition of a ministry supported by civil power. We therefore conclude that, although such support might be provided without in- terference with civil liberty, it could not be done without violation of the spirit of the gospel. That is, though the state might be desirous of affording aid to the church, the church is bound, on principle, resolutely and steadfastly to protest against in any manner receiving it. 4. And I think that the facts will show that this view of the subject is correct. The clergy, as a profession, are better remunerated by voluntary support than by legal enactment. When the people arrange the matter of com- pensation with their clergymen themselves, there are no rich and overgrown benefices, but there are also but few miserably poor curacies. The minister, if he deserve it, generally lives as well as his people. If it be said that high talent should be rewarded by elevated rank in this profession, as in any other, I answer, that such seems to me not to be the genius of the gospel. The gospel presents no induce ments of worldly rank or of official dignity, and it scorns t > hold out such motives to the religious teacher. I answer 20 230 MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL,, ETC. again, official rank and luxurious splendor, instead of adding to, take from, the real influence of a teacher of religion. They tend to destroy that moral hardihood which is neces- sary to the success of him, whose object it is to render men better ; and, while they surround him with all the insignia of power, enervate that very spirit on which moral power essentially depends. And, besides, a religion supported by the government, must soon become the tool of the govern- ment ; or, at least, must be involved and implicated in every change which the 'government may undergo. How utterly at variance this must be with the principles of Him who declared, " My kingdom is not of tliis world," surely need not be illustrated. 231 CHAPTER SECOND. JUSTICE IN RESPECT TO PROPERTY. SECTION I. THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. I. DEFINITION of the right of property. The abstract right of property is the right to use some- thing in such manner as I choose. But, inasmuch as this right of use is common to all men, and as one may choose to use his property in such a way as to deprive his neighbor of this or of some other right, the j right to use as I choose is limited by the restriction, that V do not interfere with the rights of my neighbor. The right of property, therefore, when thus restricted, is the right to use something as I choose, provided I do not so use it as to interfere with the rights of my neighbor. Thus, we see that, from the very nature of the case, the right of property is exclusive ; that is to say, if I have a right to any thing, this right excludes every one else from any right over that thing ; and it imposes upon every one else the obligation to leave me unmolested in the use of it. within those limits to which my right extends. II. On what the right of property is founded. The right of property is founded on the will of God, as made known to us by natural conscience, by general conse- quences, and by revelation. Every thing which we behold is essentially the property v , of the Creator ; and he has a right to confer the use of it upon whomsoever, and under what restrictions soever, he pleases. We may know in what relations he wills us to stand towards the things around us, by the principles which 232 THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. he has implanted within us, and by the result produced in individuals and communities by the different courses of conduct of which men are capable. Now God signifies to us his will on this subject, First. By the decisions of natural conscience. This is known from several circumstances. 1. All men, as soon as they begin to think, even in early youth and infancy, perceive this relation. They imme- diately appropriate certain things to themselves ; they feel injured, if their control over those things is violated, and they are conscious of guilt, if they violate this right in respect to others. 2. The relation of property is expressed by the posses- sive pronouns. These are found in all languages. So universally is this idea diffused over the whole mass of human action and human feeling, that it would be scarcely possible for two human beings to converse for even a few minutes on any subject, or in any language, without the frequent use of the words which designate the relation of possession. 3. Not only do men feel the importance of sustaining each other in the exercise of the right of property, but they manifestly feel that he who violates it has done wrong ; that is, has violated obligation, and hence deserves pun- ishment, on the ground, not simply of the consequences of the act, but of the guiltiness of the actor. Thus, if a man steal, other men are not satisfied when he has merely made restitution, although this may perfectly make up the loss to the injured party. It is always considered that some- thing more is due, either from God or from man, as a pun- ishment for the crime. Hence, the Jewish law enjoined tenfold restitution in cases of theft, and modern law inflicts fines, imprisonment, and corporal punishment, for the same offence. Secondly. That God wills the possession of property, is evident from the general consequences which result from the existence of this relation. The existence and progress of society, nay, the very existence of our race, depends upon the acknowledgment of this right. THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 233 Were not every individual entitled to the results of his labor, and to the exclusive enjoyment of the benefits of these results, 1. No one would labor any more than was sufficient for his own individual subsistence, because he would have no more right than any other person to the value which he had created. 2. Hence, there would be no accumulation ; of course, no capital, no tools, no provision for the future, no houses, and no agriculture. Each man, alone, would be obliged to contend, at the same time, with the elements, with wild beasts, and also with his rapacious fellow-men. The human race, under such circumstances, could not long exist. 3. Under such circumstances, the race of man must speedily perish, or its existence be prolonged, even in favorable climates, under every accumulation of wretched- ness. Progress would be out of the question ; and the only change which could take place, would be that arising from the pressure of heavier and heavier penury, as the spon- taneous productions of the earth became rarer, from im- provident consumption, without any correspondent labor for reproduction. 4. It needs only to be remarked, in addition, that just in proportion as the right of property is held inviolate, just in that proportion civilization advances, and the comforts and conveniences of life multiply. Hence it is, that, in free and well ordered governments, and specially during peace, property accumulates, all the orders of society enjoy the blessings of competence, the arts flourish, science ad- vances, and men begin to form some conception of the happiness of which the present system is capable. And, on the contrary, under despotism, when law spreads its protection over neither house, land, estate, nor life, and ially during civil wars, industry ceases, capital stag- .ates, the arts decline, the people starve, population dimin- ishes, and men rapidly tend to a state of barbarism. Thirdly. The Holy Scriptures treat of the right of prop- erty as a thing acknowledged, and direct their precepts against every act by which it is violated, and also agains.t the tempers of mind from which such violation proceeds 20* 234 THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. The doctrine of revelation is so clearly set forth on this subject, that I need not delay for the sake of dwelling upon it. It will be sufficient to refer to the prohibitions in the decalogue against stealing and coveting, and to the various precepts in the New Testament respecting our duty in regard to our neighbor's possessions. I proceed, in the next place, to consider, III. The modes in which the right of property may be acquired. These may be divided into two classes: first, direct ; second, indirect. First. Direct. 1 . By the immediate gift of God. When Go"d has given me a desire for any object, and has spread this object before me, and there is no rational creature to contest my claim, I may take that object, and use it as I will, subject only to the limitation of those obli- gations to Him, and to my fellow-creatures, which have been before specified. On this principle is founded my right to enter upon wild and unappropriated lands, to hunt wild game, to pluck wild fruit, to take fish, or any thing of this sort. This right is sufficient to exclude the right of any subsequent claimant ; for, if it has been given to me, that act of gift is valid, until it can be shown by another that it has been annulled. A grant of this sort, however, ap- plies only to an individual so long as he continues the locum tenens, and no longer. He has no right to enter upon unap- propriated land, and leave it, and then claim it 'afterward by virtue of his first possession. Were it otherwise, any individual might acquire a title to a whole continent, and exclude from it all the rest of his species. 2. By the labor of our hands. Whatever value I have created by my own labor, or by the innocent use of the other means of happiness which God has given me, is mine. This is evident from the prin- j ciple already so frequently referred to ; namely, that Iv* have a right to use, for my own happiness, whatever God has given me, provided I use it not to the injury of another. Thus, if I catch a deer, or raise an ear of corn upon land otherwise unappropriated, that deer, or that corn, is mine. No reason can possibly be conceived, why any other being THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 235 should raise a claim to them, which could extinguish, or even interfere with mine. This, however, is not meant to assert, that a man has a right to any thing more than to the results of his labor. He has no right, of course, to the results of the labor of another. If, by my labor, I build a mill, and employ a man to take the charge of it, it does not follow that he has a right to all the profits of the mill. If I, by my labor and frugality, earn money to purchase a farm, and hire a laborer to work upon it, it does not follow that he has a right to all the produce of the farm. The profit is, in this case, to be divided between us. He has a right to the share which fairly belongs to his labor, and I' have a right to the share that belongs to me, as the proprietor and pos- sessor of that which is the result of my antecedent labor. It would be as unjust for him to have the whole profit, as for me to have the whole of it. It is fairly a case of part- nership, in which each party receives his share of the result, upon conditions previously and voluntarily agreed upon. This is the general principle of wages. Secondly. The right of property may be acquired in- directly. 1. By exchange. Inasmuch as I have an exclusive right to appropriate, innocently, the possessions which I have acquired, by the means stated above, and, inasmuch as every other man has the same right, we may, if we choose, voluntarily exchange our right to particular things with each other. If I culti- vate wheat, and my neighbor cultivates corn, and we, both of us, have more of our respective production than we wish to use for ourselves, we may, on such terms as we can agree upon, exchange the one for the other. Property held in this manner is held rightfully. This exchange is of two kinds : first, barter, where the exchange on both sides, consists of commodities ; and, second, bargain and sale, where one of the parties gives, and the other receives, money for his property. 2. By gift. As I may thus rightfully part with, and another party rightfully receive, my property, for an equivalent rendered, 236 THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. so I may, if I choose, part with it without an equivalent ; that is, merely to gratify my feelings of benevolence, or affection, or gratitude. Here, I voluntarily confer upon another the right of ownership, and he may rightfully receive and occupy it. 3. By will As I have the right to dispose of my property as I please, during my life-time, and may exchange it or give it as I will, at any time previous to my decease, so I may give it to another, on the condition that he shall not enter into possession until after my death. Property acquired in this manner is held rightfully. 4. By inheritance. Inasmuch as persons frequently die without making a will, society, upon general principles, presumes upon the manner in which the deceased would have distributed his property, had he made a will. Thus, it is supposed that he would distribute his wealth among his widow and children ; or, in failure of these, among his blood relations ; and in proportions corresponding to their degree of consanguinity. Property may be rightfully acquired in this manner. 5. By possession. In many cases, although a man have no moral right to property, yet he may have a right to exclude others from it ; and others are under obligation to leave him unmolested in the use of it. Thus, a man has by fraud obtained pos- session of a farm, and the rightful owners have all died : now, although the present holder has no just title to the property, yet, if it were to be taken from him and held by another, the second would have no better title than the first ; and a third person would have the same right to dis- possess the second, and in turn be himself dispossessed, and so on for ever ; that is, there would be endless controversy, without any nearer approximation to justice ; and hence, it is better that the case be left as it was in the first instance ; that is, in general, possession gives a right, so far as man is concerned, to unmolested enjoyment, unless some one else can establish a better title. 6. And hence, in general, I believe it will hold, that while merely the laws of society do not give a man any THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 237 moral right to property, yet, when these laws have once assigned it to him, this simple fact imposes a moral obliga- tion upon all other men to leave him in the undisturbed possession of it. I have no more right to set fire to the house of a man, who has defrauded an orphan to obtain it, than I have to set fire to the house of any other man. To sum up what has been said, property may be originally acquired either by the gift of God, or by our own labor : it may be subsequently acquired either by exchange, or by gift during life, or by will ; but, in these cases of transfer of ownership, the free consent of the original owner is necessary to render the transfer morally right ; and, lastly, where the individual has not acquired property justly, yet mere possession, though it alters not his moral right to pos- session, yet it is a sufficient bar to molestation, unless some other claimant can prefer a better title. These, I think, comprehend the most important modes by which the right of property can be acquired. That principles somewhat analogous to these are in accordance with the laws of God is, I think, evident from observation of the history of man. The more rigidly these principles have been carried into active operation, the greater amount of happiness has been secured to the indi- vidual, and the more rapidly do nations advance in civiliza- tion, and the more successfully do they carry into effect every means of mental and moral cultivation. The first steps that were taken in the recovery of Europe from the misery of the dark ages, consisted in defining and estab- lishing the right of property upon the basis of equitable and universal law. Until something of this sort is done, no nation can emerge from a state of barbarism.* And hence we see the importance of an able, learned, upright, and independent judiciary, and the necessity to national prosperity of carrying the decisions of law into universal and impartial effect. It not unfrequently happens that, for the purposes of party, the minds of the people are inflamed against the tribunals whose duty it is to administer justice ; or else, on the other hand, for the same purpose, a * Robertson's Preliminary Dissertation to the History of Charles V. 238 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY flagrant violation of justice by a popular favorite is looked upon as harmless. Let it be remembered, that society must be dissolved, unless the supremacy of the law be maintained. " The voice of the law " will cease to be " the harmony of the world," unless " all things," both high and low, " do her reverence." How often has even-handed justice commend- ed the chalice to the lips of the demagogue ; and he has been the first to drink of that cup which he supposed him- self to be mingling for others ! SECTION II. MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. I have already remarked, that the right of property, so far as it extends, is exclusive both of the individual and of society. This is true in respect to both parties. Thus, whatever I own, I own exclusively both of society and oi individuals ; and whatever either individuals or society own, they own exclusively of me. Hence, the right of property is equally violated by taking viciously either public or pri- vate property ; and it is equally violated by taking viciously, whether the aggressor be the public or an individual. And, moreover, it is exclusive to the full amount of what is owned. It is, therefore, as truly a violation of the right of property, to take a little as to take much ; to purloin a book or a penknife as to steal money ; to steal fruit as to steal a horse ; to defraud the revenue as to rob my neighbor ; to overcharge the public as to overcharge my brother; to cheat the post-office as to cheat my friend. It has already been observed, that a right to the property of another can be acquired only by his own voluntary choice. This follows, immediately from the definition of the right of property. But, in order to render this choice of right available, it must be influenced by no motives pre- sented wrongfully by the receiver. Thus, if I demand a MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 239 man's purse on the alternative that I will shoot him if he deny me, he may surrender it rather than be shot ; but I have no right to present such an alternative, and the con- sent of the owner renders it no less a violation of the right of property. If I inflame a man's vanity in order to induce him to buy of me a coach which he does not want, the transaction is dishonest ; because I have gained his will by a motive which I had no right to use. So, if I represent an article in exchange to be different from what it is, I present a false motive, and gain his consent by a lie. And thus, in general, as I have said, a transfer of property is morally wrong, where the consent of the owner is obtained by means of a vicious act on the part of the receiver. The right of property may be violated, 1. By taking property without the knowledge of the owner, or theft. It is here to be remembered, that the con- sent of the owner is necessary to any transfer of property. We do not vary the nature of the act by persuading our- selves that the owner will not care about it, or that he would have no objection, or that he will not know it, or that it will never injure him to lose it. All this may or may not be ; but none of it varies the moral character of the transac- tion. The simple question is, Has the owner consented to the transfer 1 If he have not, so long as this circumstance, essential to a righteous transfer, is wanting, whatever other circumstances exist, it matters not, the taking of another's property is theft. 2. By taking die property of another, by consent vio- lently obtained. Such is the case in highway robbery. Here, we wick- edly obtain control over a man's life, and then offer him the alternative of death, or delivery of his property. Inas- much as the consent is no more voluntary than if we tied his hands, and took the money out of his pocket, the viola- tion of property is as great. And, besides this, we assume the power of life and death over an individual, over whom we have no just right whatever. In this case, in fact, we assume the unlimited control over the life and possessions of another, and, on pain of death, oblige him to surrender his property to our will. As, in this case, there is a double 240 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY and aggravated violation of right, it is, in all countries, con- sidered deserving of condign punishment, and is generally rendered a capital offence. 3. By consent fraudulently obtained, or cheating. This may be of two kinds: 1. Where no equivalent is offered, as when a beggar obtains money on false pretences. 2. Where the equivalent is different from ivhat it pur- ports to be ; or where the consent is obtained by an im- moral act on the part of him who obtains it. As this in- cludes by far the greatest number of violations of the law of property, it will occupy the remainder of this section, and will require to be treated of somewhat at length. We shall divide it into two parts : 1. Where the equiv- alent is material ; 2. Where the equivalent is immaterial. I. WHERE THE EQUIVALENT is MATERIAL. This is of two kinds: 1. Where the transfer is perpetual ; 2. Where the transfer is temporary. FIRST. Where the transfer of property on both sides is perpetual. This includes the law of buyer and seller. The principal laws of buyer and seller will be seen from a consideration of the relation in which they stand to each other. The seller, or merchant, is supposed to devote his time and capital to the business of supplying his neighbors with articles of use. For his time, risk, interest of money, and skill, he is entitled to an advance on his goods ; and the buyer is under a correspondent obligation to allow that advance, except in the case of a change in the market price, to be noticed subsequently. Hence, 1. The seller is under obligation to furnish goods of the same quality as that ordinarily furnished -at the same prices. He is paid for his skill in purchasing, and of course he ought to possess that skill, or to suffer the consequences. If he furnish goods of this quality, and they are, so far as his knowledge extends, free from any defect, he is under obligation to do nothing more than to offer them. He is under no obligations to explain their adaptation, and direct the judgment of the buyer, unless by the law of benevo- lence. Having furnished goods to the best of his skill, and of the ordinary quality, his responsibility ceases, and it is MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 241 the business of the buyer to decide whether the article is adapted to his wants. If, however, the seller have pur- chased a bad article, and have been deceived, he has no right to sell it at the regular price, on the ground that he gave as much for it as for what should have been good. The error of judgment was his, and in his own profession ; and he must bear the loss by selling the article for what it is worth. That this is the rule, is evident from the con- trary case. If he had, by superior skill, purchased an article at much less than its value, he would consider him- self entitled to the advantage, and justly. Where he is entitled, however, to the benefit of his skill, he must, under correspondent circumstances, suffer from the want of it. Hence we say, that a seller is under obligation to furnish goods at the market price, and of the market quality, but is under no obligation to assist the judgment of the buyer, unless the article for sale is defective, and then he is under obligation to reveal it. The only exception to this rule is, when, from the con- ditions of the sale, it is known that no guaranty is offered ; as when a horse is sold at auction, without any recommen- dation. Here, every man knows that he buys at his own risk, and bids accordingly. 2. Every one who makes it his business to sell, is not only bound to sell, but is also at liberty to sell, at the mar- ket price. That he is bound to sell thus, is evident from the fact that he takes every means to persuade the public that he sells thus ; he would consider it a slander were any one to assert the contrary ; and, were the contrary to be believed, his custom would soon be ruined. Where a belief is so widely circulated, and so earnestly inculcated by the seller, he is manifestly under obligation to fulfil an expecta- tion which he has been so anxious to create. He is also at liberty to sell at the market price ; that is, as he is obliged to sell without remuneration, or even with loss, if the article fall in price while in his possession, so he is at liberty to sell it at above a fair remuneration, if the price of the article advances. As he must suffer in case of the fall of merchandise, he is entitled to the correspondent , if merchandise rises ; and thus his chance on both 21 242 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY sides is equalized. Besides, by allowing the price of an article to rise with its scarcity, the rise itself is in the end checked ; since, by attracting an unusual amount of prod- ucts to the place of scarcity, the price is speedily reduced again to the ordinary and natural equilibrium of supply and demand. It should, however, be remarked, that this rule applies mainly to those, whose occupation it is to traffic in the article bought and sold. A dealer in china-ware is bound to sell china-ware at the market price ; but if a man insist upon buying his coat, he is under no such obligation, for this is not his business. Should he put himself to inconve- nience by selling his apparel to gratify the whim of his neighbor, he may, if he will, charge an extra price for this inconvenience. The rule applies in any other similar case. It would, however, become an honest man fairly to state that he did not sell at the market price, but that he charged what he chose, as a remuneration for his trouble. 3. While the seller is under no obligation to set forth the quality of his merchandise, yet he is at liberty to do so, confining himself to truth. He has, however, no right to influence the will of the buyer, by any motives aside from those derived from the real value of the article in question. Thus, he has no right to appeal to the fears, or hopes, or avarice, of the buyer. This rule is violated, when, in dealings on the exchange, false information is circulated, for the purpose of raising or depressing the price of stocks. It is violated by speculators, who monopolize an article to create an artificial scarcity, and thus raise the price, while the supply is abundant. The case is the same, when a salesman looks upon a stranger who enters his store, and deliberately calculates how he shall best influence, and excite, and mislead his mind, so as to sell the greatest amount of goods at the most exorbitant profit. And, in general, any attempt to influence the mind of the purchaser, by motives aside from those derived from the true character of the article for sale, are always doubtful, and generally vicious. It is in vain to reply to this, that if this were not done, men could not support their families. We are not inquir- MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. ing about the support of families, but about a question of right. And it is obvious that, were this plea allowed, it would put an end to all questions of morals ; for there never was an iniquity so infamous as not to find multitudes who were ready to justify it on this plea. But we alto- gether deny the validity of the plea. Were men to qualify themselves properly for their business, and to acquire and exert a suitable skill in the management of it, that skill being beneficially exerted for the community at large, men would find it for their interest to employ it. He who un derstood his own profession well, and industriously ana honestly put his talents into requisition, never stood in need of chicanery, in order to support either himself or his family. These remarks have been made with respect to the seller. But it is manifest that they are just as applicable to the buyer. Both parties are under equally imperative and correspondent obligations. If the seller be bound to furnish an article of ordinary quality, and to sell it at the market price, that is, if he be obliged to exert his skill for the benefit of the buyer, and to charge for that skill and capital no more than a fair remuneration, then the buyer is under the same obligation freely and willingly to pay that remuneration. It is disgraceful to him, to wish the seller to labor for him for nothing, or for less than a fair compensa- tion. If the seller has no right by extraneous considerations to influence the motives of the buyer, the buyer has no right, by any such considerations, to influence the motives of the seller. The buyer is guilty of fraud, if he underrate the seller's goods, or by any of the artifices of traffic in- duces him to sell at less than a fair rate of profit. " 'Tis naught, 'tis naught, saith the buyer ; but when he goeth his way, then he boasteth." Such conduct is as dishonest and dishonorable now, as it was in the days of Solomon. It has also been observed above, that when the seller knows of any defect in his product, he is bound to declare it. The same rule, of course, applies to the buyer. If he know that the value of the article has risen, without the possibility of the owner's knowledge, he is bound to inform him of this change in its value. The sale is, otherwise, fraudulent. Hence, all purchases and sales affected in 44 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY consequence of secret information, procured in advance of our neighbor, are dishonest. If property rise in value by the providence of God, while in my neighbor's possession, that rise of value is as much his, as the property itself; and I may as honestly deprive him of the one, without an equivalent, as of the other. The ordinary pleas, by which men excuse themselves for violation of the moral law of property, are weak and wicked. Thus, when men sell articles of a different quality from that which their name imports as when wines or liquors are diluted or compounded ; when the ordinary weight or measure is curtailed ; or where employers defraud ignorant persons of their wages, as I am told is sometimes the case with those who employ certain classes of laborers it is common to hear it remarked, " The competition is so great, that we could sell nothing, unless we adopted these methods ;" or else, a The practice is universal, and if we did not do thus, other persons would, and so the evil would not be diminished." To all this, it is sufficient to reply : The law of God is explicit on this subject. " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself;" and God allows of no excuses for the violation of his commands ; " He hath shewed it unto them; therefore they are without excuse." These pleas are either true or false. If false, they ought to be aban- doned. If true, then the traffic itself must be given up ; for no man has any right to be engaged in any pursuit, in vio- lation of the laws of God. A. bargain is concluded, when both parties have signified to each other, their will to make the transfer ; that is, that each chooses to part with his own property, and to receive the property of the other in exchange. Henceforth, all the risk of loss, and all the chances of gain, are, of course, mutually transferred ; although the articles themselves remain precisely as they were before. If a merchant buy a cargo of tea ; after the sale, no matter where the tea is, the chances of loss or gain are his, and they are as much his in one place as in another. So, if the article, after the sale, have become injured, before I take actual possession of it, I bear the loss ; be- cause, the right of ownership being vested in me, I could MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 245 have removed it if I chose, and no one had a right, without my direction, to remove it. The only exception to this, exists in the case where, by custom or contract, the obligation to deliver, is one of the conditions of the sale. Here the seller, of course, charges more for assuming the responsibility to deliver, and he is to bear the risk, for which he is fairly paid. It is frequently a question, When is the act of delivery completed ? This must be settled by precedent ; and can rarely be known in any country, until a decision is had in the courts of law. As soon as such a case is adjudicated, the respective parties govern themselves accordingly. SECONDLY, when the transfer of property is temporary. In this case, the borrower pays a stipulated equivalent for the use of it. That he should do so is manifestly just, because the property in the hands of the owner is capable of producing an increase, and the owner, if he held it, would derive the benefit of that increase. If he part with this benefit for the advantage of another, it is just that the other should allow him a fair remuneration. If the borrower could not, after paying this remuneration, grow richer than he would be without the use of his neighbor's capital, he would not borrow. But, inasmuch as he, by the use of it, can be benefited, after paying for the use, no reason can be con- ceived why he should not pay for it. The remuneration paid for the use of capital, in the form of money, is called interest ; when in the form of land or houses, it is called rent. The principles on which the rate of this remuneration is justly fixed, are these: The borrower pays, first, for the use ; and, secondly, for the risk. 1. For the use. Capital is more useful, that is, it is capable of producing a greater remuneration at some times than at others. Thus, a flour-mill, in some seasons, is more productive than in others. Land, in some places, is capable of yielding a greater harvest than in others. And thus, at different times, the same, property may be capable of bringing in a very different income. And, in general, where the amount of 21 * 246 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY capital to be loaned is great, and the number of those who want to borrow, small, the interest will be low ; and where the number of borrowers is great, and the amount of capi- tal small, the rate of interest will be high. The reasons of all this are too obvious to need illustration. 2. For the risk. When an owner parts with his property, it is put under the control of the borrower, and passes, of course, beyond the control of the owner. Here, there arises a risk over which he has no control. It varies with the character of the borrower for prudence and skill, and with the kind of business in which he is engaged. Property in ships is exposed to greater risk than property in land. A man would consider the chance of having his property returned much better, if employed in the building of dwelling-houses, than in the manufacture of gun-powder. Now, as all these circumstances of risk may enter more or less into every loan, it is evident that they must, in justice, vary the rate at which a loan may be procured. Hence, I think that the rate of interest, of every sort, being liable to so many circumstances of variation, should not, in any case, be fixed by law ; but should be left, in all cases, to the discretion of the parties concerned. This remark applies as well to loans of money as to loans of other property, because the reasons apply just as much to these as to any other. If it be said, men may charge exorbitant interest, I reply, so they may charge exorbitant rent for houses, and exorbitant hire for horses. And, I ask, how is this evil of exorbitant charges in other cases remedied ? The answer is plain. We allow a perfectly free competition, and then the man who will not loan his property, unless at an exorbitant price, is underbidden, and his own rapacity defeats and punishes itself. And, on the contrary, by fixing a legal rate of interest, we throw the whole community into the power of those who are willing to violate the law. For, as soon as the actual value of money is more than the legal value, those who consider themselves under obligation to obey the laws of the land, will not loan ; for they can employ their property to better advantage. Hence, if all were obedient MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 247 to the law, as soon as property arrived at this point oi value, loans would instantly and universally cease. But as some persons are willing to evade the law, they will loan at illegal interest ; and, as the capital of those who are conscientious, is withdrawn from the market, and an arti- ficial scarcity is thus produced, those who are not conscien- tious have it in their power to charge whatever they choose. Again, when we pay for money loaned, we pay, first, for the use, and, second, for the risk ; that is, we pay literally a premium of insurance. As both of these vary with dif- ference of time, and with different individuals, there is a double reason for variation in the rate of interest. When we have a house insured, we pay only for the risk ; and, hence, there is here only a single cause of variation. But while all governments have fixed the rate of interest by law, they have never fixed the rate of insurance ; which, -being less variable, is more properly subject to a fixed rule. This is surely inconsistent ; is it not also unjust ? Nevertheless, for the sake of avoiding disputes, and errors of ignorance, it might be wise for society to enact, by law, what shall be the rate of interest, in cases where no rate is otherwise specified. This is the extent of its proper juris- diction ; and doing any thing further is, I think, not only injurious to the interests of the community, but also a vio- lation of the right of property. While, however, I hold this to be true, I by no means hold that, the laws remain- ing as they are, any individual is justified in taking or giving more than the legal rate of interest. When conscience does not forbid, it is the business of a good citizen to obey the laws ; and the faithful obedience to an unwise law, is generally the surest way of working its overthrow. We shall now proceed to consider the laws which gov- ern this mode of transfer of property. The loan of money. 1 . The lender is bound to demand no more than a fair remuneration for the use of his capital, and for the risk to which it is exposed. 2. He is bound to make use of no unlawful means to influence the decision of the borrower. The principles here are the same as those which should govern the per- 248 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY manent exchange of property. All rumors and false alarm?, and all combinations of capitalists to raise by a monopoly the price of money, are manifestly dishonest ; nor are they the less so, because many persons may enter into them, or because they have the skill or the power to evade the laws of the land. 3. The borrower is bound to pay a just equivalent, as I have stated above ; and he is equally forbidden to use any dishonest motives to influence the decision of the lender. 4. Inasmuch as the risk of the property is one part of the consideration for which the owner receives remunera- tion, and as this is in every case supposed to be a specified quantity, the borrower has no right to expose the property of another to any risk not contemplated in the contract. Hence, he has no right to invest it in a more hazardous trade, or to employ it in a more hazardous speculation, than that for which he borrowed it ; and if he do, he is using it in a manner for which he has paid no equivalent. He is also under obligation to take all the care to avoid losses which he would take if the property were his own ; and to use the same skill to conduct his affairs successfully. 5. He is also bound to repay the loan exactly according to the terms specified in the contract. This requires that he pay the full sum promised, and that he pay it precisely at the time promised. A failure, in either case, is a breach of the contract. The question is often asked, whether a debtor is morally liberated by an act of insolvency. I think not, if he ever afterwards have the means of repayment. It may be said, this is oppressive to debtors ; but, we ask, is not the con- trary principle oppressive to creditors ; and are not the rights of one party just as valuable, and just as much rights, as those of the other ? It may also be remarked, that, were this principle acted upon, there would be fewer debtors, and vastly fewer insolvents. The amount of money actually lost by insolvency, is absolutely enormous ; and it is generally lost by causeless, reckless speculation, by childish and inexcusable extravagance, or by gambling and profligacy, which are all stimulated into activity by MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 249 the facility of credit, and the facility with which debts may be cancelled by acts of insolvency. The more rigidly contracts are observed, the more rapidly will the capital of a country increase, the greater will be the inducements to industry, and the stronger will be the barriers against ex- travagance and vice. Of the loan of other property. The principles which apply in this case are very similar to those which have been already stated. 1. The lender is bound to furnish an article, which, so far as he knows, is adapted to the purposes of the bor- rower. That is, if the thing borrowed has any internal defect, he is bound to reveal it. If I loan a horse to a man who wishes to ride forty miles to-day, which I know is able to go but thirty, it is a fraud. If I let to a man a house which I know to be in the neighborhood of a nui- sance, or to be, in part, uninhabitable from smoky chim- neys, and do not inform him, it is fraud. The loss in the value of the property is mine, and I have no right to trans- fer it to another. 2. So the lender has a right to charge the market price arising from the considerations of use, risk, and variation in supply and demand. This depends upon the same principles as those already explained. 3. The borrower is bound to take the same care of the property of another, as he would of his own ; to put it to no risk different from that specified or understood in the contract ; and to pay the price, upon the principle stated above. Neither party has any right to influence the other by any motives extraneous to the simple business of the transfer. 4. The borrower is bound to return the property loaned, precisely according to the contract. This includes both time and condition. He must return it at the time speci- fied, and in the condition in which he received it, ordinary wear and tear only excepted. If I hire a house for a year, and so damage its paper and paint, that, before it can be let again, it will cost half the price of the rent to put it in repair, it is a gross fraud. I have, by negligence, or other cause, defrauded the owner of half his rent. It is just as 250 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY immoral as to pay him the whole, and then pick his pocket of the half of what he had received. The important question arises here, If a loss happen while the property is in the hands of the borrower, on whom shall it fall ? The principle I suppose to be this : 1. If it happen while the property is subject to the use specified in the contract, the owner bears it ; because it is to be supposed that he foresaw the risk, and received re- muneration for it. As he was paid for the risk, he, of course, has assumed it, and justly suffers it. 2. If the loss happen in consequence of any use not contemplated in the contract, then the borrower suffers it. He having paid nothing for insurance against this risk, there is nobody but himself to sustain it, and he sustains it accordingly. Besides, were any other principle adopted, it must put an end to the whole business of loaning ; for no one would part with his property temporarily, to be used in any manner the borrower pleased, and be himself re- sponsible for all the loss. If a horse die while I am using it well, and for the purpose specified, the owner suffers. If it die by careless driving, I suffer the loss. He is bound to furnish a good horse, and I a competent driver. 3. So, on the contrary, if a gain arise unexpectedly. If this gain was one which was contemplated in the con- tract, it belongs to the borrower. If not, he has no equi- table claim to it. If I hire a farm, I am entitled, without any additional charge for rent, to all the advantages arising from the rise in the price of wheat, or from my own skill in agriculture. But if a mine of coal be discovered on the farm, I have no right to the benefit of working it ; for I did not hire the farm for this purpose. The case of insurance. Here no transfer of property is made, and, of course, nothing is paid for use. But the owner chooses to transfer the risk of use from himself to others, and to pay, for their assuming this risk, a stipulated equivalent. The loss to society, of property insured, is just the same as when it is uninsured. A town is just as much poorer when property is destroyed that is insured, provided it be insured in the town, as though no insurance were effected. The only MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 251 difference is, that the loss is equalized. Ten men can more easily replace one hundred dollars apiece, who have nine hundred remaining, than the eleventh can replace his whole property of one thousand. The rule in this case is simple. The insured is bound fully to reveal to the insurer every circumstance within his knowledge, which could in any measure affect the value of the risk ; that is to say, the property must be, so far as he knows, what it purports to be, and the risks none other than such as he reveals them. If he expose the property to other risks, the insurance is void ; and the underwriter, if the property be lost, refuses to remunerate him ; and if it be safe, he returns the premium. If the loss occur with- in the terms of the policy, the insurer is bound fully and faithfully to make remuneration, precisely according to the terms of the contract. As to the rate of insurance, very little need be said. It varies with every risk, and is made up of so many conflict- ing circumstances, that it must be agreed upon by the par- ties themselves. When the market in this species of traffic is unrestrained by monopolies, the price of insurance, like that of any other commodity, will regulate itself. II. Next, where the equivalent is IMMATERIAL, as where one party pays remuneration for some service rendered by the other. The principal cases here are these : That of master and servant, and that of principal and agent. 1. Of master and servant. 1. The master is bound to allow to the servant a fair re- muneration. This is justly estimated by uniting the con- siderations of labor, skill, and fidelity, varied by the rise and fall of the price of such labor in the market. As this, how- ever, would be liable to inconvenient fluctuation, it is gen- erally adjusted by a rate agreed upon by the parties. 2. He is bound to allow him all the privileges to which moral law or established usage entitles him, unless something different from the latter has been stipulated in the contract ; and he is at liberty to require of him service upon the same principles. 3. The servant is bound to perform the labor assigned 252 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY him by usage, or by contract (matters of conscience only excepted), with all the skill which he possesses, making the interests of the employer his own. If either party fail, that is, if the master demand service for which he does not render compensation, or if the servant receive wages for which he does not render the stipulated equivalent, there is a violation of the right of property. Thus, also, there is a violation of right, if the master do not fulfil the terms of the contract, just as it was made ; as, for instance, if he do not pay a servant punctually. When the service is perform- ed, the wages belong to the servant, and the master has no more right to them than to the property of any one else. Thus saith St. James : " The hire of your laborers that have reaped your fields, that is Icept back by fraud, crieth, and the cry is come into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth." And, on the contrary, the servant is bound to use his whole skill and economy in managing the property of his master ; and if he destroy it by negligence, or fault, he ought to make restitution. 2. Of principal and agent. It frequently happens that, in the transaction of business, duties devolve upon an individual, which are to be dis- charged in different places at the same time. In other cases, in consequence of the subdivision of labor, he requires something to be done for him, which another person can do better than himself. In both cases, either from necessity, or for his own convenience and interest, he employs other men as agents. Agencies are of two kinds ; Jirst, where the principal simply employs another to fulfil his own (that is, the prin- cipal's) will Here, the principal's will is the rule, both as to the object to be accomplished, and the manner in which, and the means whereby, it is to be accomplished. Sec- ondly. Where the principal only designates the objects to be accomplished, reposing special trust in the skill and fidelity of the agent as to the means by which it is to be accomplished. Such I suppose to be the case in regard to professional assistance. The laws on this subject respect, fost, the relation ex- isting between the principal and the community ; and, MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 253 secondly, the relation existing between the principal and agent. I. The principal is bound by the acts of the agent, while the agent is employed in the business for which the prin- cipal has engaged him ; but he is responsible no farther. Thus, it is known that a merchant employs a clerk to receive money on his account. For his clerk's transactions in this part of his affairs he is responsible ; but he would not be responsible, if money were paid to his porter or coach- man, because he does not employ them for this purpose. Hence, if the clerk be unfaithful, and secrete the money, the merchant suffers ; if the coachman receive the money, and be unfaithful, the payer suffers. It is the merchant's business to employ suitable agents ; but it is the business of his customers to apply to those agents only, whom he has employed. An important question arises here, namely, When is it to be understood that a principal has employed an agent ? It is generally held that, if the principal acknowledge himself responsible for the acts of the agent, he is hereafter held to be responsible for similar acts, until he gives notice to the contrary. II. Laws arising from the relation subsisting between the principal and the agent. 1. The laws respecting compensation are the same as those already specified, and, therefore, need not be repeated. 2. The agent is bound to give the same care to the affairs of the principal, as to his own. He is another self, and should act in that capacity. The necessity of this rule is apparent from the fact, that no other rule could be de- vised, either by which the one party would know what justly to demand, or the other when the demands of justice were fulfilled. Hence, if an agent do not give all the care to the affairs of his principal that he would do to his own, and loss occur, he ought to sustain it. If a lawyer lose a cause through negligence, or palpable ignorance, he ought, in justice, to suffer the consequences. He receives fees for conducting the cause to the best of his ability, and, by undertaking to conduct it, puts it out of the power of the client to employ 22 254 MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY any one else. Thus, if he neglect it, and, by neglecting it, his client is worse off than if he had not undertaken it, he accepts fees for really injuring his neighbor. He ought to bear the loss which has occurred by his own fault. A question frequently arises here of considerable impor- tance. It is, When is he obliged to obey the instructions of his principal ; and when is he obliged to act without regard to them? Although this question does not come under the right of property, it may be as well to notice it here as any where else. The question, I suppose, is to be answered by deciding to which of the above specified kinds of agencies the case to be considered belongs. 1. If it be simple agency, that is, where the agent un- dertakes m'erely to execute the will of the principal, and in the manner, and by the means, specified by the principal, he must obey implicitly, (conscience only excepted,) unless some fact material to the formation of a judgment has come to light after giving the order, which, if known, would have necessarily modified the intention of the principal. This is the law of the military service. Here, even when the reason for disobedience of orders is ever so clear, and an agent disobeys, he does it at his own risk ; and, hence, the modifying facts should be obvious and explicit, in order to justify a variation from the instructions. 2. When the agency is of the other kind, and the will of the principal is only supposed to direct the end, while the means and manner are to be decided upon by the pro- fessional skill of the agent, I suppose that the agent is not bound to obey the directions of his principal. He is sup- posed to know more on the subject, and to be better able to decide what will benefit his principal, than the principal himself; and he has no right to injure another man, even if the other man desire it ; nor has he a right to lend him- self as an instrument by which another man, by conse- quence of his ignorance, shall injure himself. Besides, every man has a professional reputation to sustain, on which his means of living depend. He has no right to injure this, for the sake of gratifying another, especially when, by so gratifying the other, he shall ruin himself also. MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 255 A physician has no right to give his patient drugs which will poison him, because a patient wishes it. A lawyer has no right to bring a cause into court in such a manner as will ensure the loss of it, because his client insists upon it. The professional agent is bound to conduct the business of his profession to the best of his ability. This is the end of his responsibility. If it please his client, well ; if not, the relation must cease, and the principal must find another agent. A representative in Congress is manifestly an agent of the latter of these two classes. He is chosen on account of his supposed legislative ability. Hence, he is strictly a professional agent ; and, on these principles, he is under no sort of obligation to regard the instructions of his constitu- ents. He is merely bound to promote their best interests, but the manner of doing it is to be decided by his superior skill and ability. But, secondly, is he bound to resign his seat, if he differ from them in opinion ? This is a question to be decided by the constitution of the country under which he acts. Society, that is, the whole nation, have a right to form a government as they will ; and to choose representatives during good behavior, that is, for as long a time as they and their representatives entertain the same views ; or, set- ting aside this mode for reasons which may seem good to themselves, to elect them for a certain period of service. Now, if they have chosen the latter mode, they have bound themselves to abide by it, and have abandoned the former. If they elect him during pleasure, he is so elected. If they, on the contrary, elect him for two years, or for six years, he is so elected. And, so far as I can discover, here the question rests. It is in the power of society to alter the tenure of office, if they please; but, until it be altered, neither party can claim any thing more or different from what that tenure actually and virtually expresses. 256 RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. SECTION III. THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. I have already stated that, whatever a man possesses, he possesses exclusively of every man, and of all men. He has a right to use his property in such a manner as will promote his own happiness, provided he do not interfere with the rights of others. But with this right, society may interfere, as well as individuals ; and the injury is here the greater, inasmuch as it is remediless. In this world the individual knows of no power superior to society, and from its decisions, even when unjust, he has no appeal. A few suggestions on this part of the subject, will close the present chapter. I have mentioned that the individual has a right to use his property, innocently, as he will, exclusively of any man, or of all men. It is proper to state here, that this right is apparently modified by his becoming a member of society. When men form a civil society, they mutually agree to con- fer upon the individual certain benefits upon certain con- ditions. But as these benefits cannot be attained without incurring some expenses, as, for instance, those of courts of justice, legislation, &,c., it is just that every individual who enters the society, and thus enjoys these benefits, should pay his portion of the expense. By the very act of becoming a member of society, he renders himself answerable for his portion of that burden, without the incurring of which, society could not exist. He has his option, to leave society, or to join it. But if he join it, he must join it on the same con- ditions as others. He demands the benefit of laws, and of protection ; but he has no right to demand what other men have purchased, unless he will pay for it an equitable price. From these principles, it will follow, that society has a natural right to require every individual to contribute his portion of those expenses necessary to the existence of society. Besides these, however, the members of a society have RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 257 the power to agree together to contribute for objects which, if not essential to the existence, are yet important to the well-being of society. If they so agree, they are bound to fulfil this agreement ; for a contract between the individual and society, is as binding as one between individual and individual. Hence, if such an agreement be made, society has a right to enforce it. This, however, by no means decides the question of the original wisdom of any particular compact ; much less is it meant to be asserted, that the individual is bound by the acts of a majority, when that majority has exceeded its power. These subjects belong to a subsequent chapter. What is meant to be asserted here, is, that there may arise cases in which society may rightfully oblige the individual to contribute for purposes which are not absolutely necessary to the existence of society. The difference, which we wish to, establish, is this : In the case of whatever is necessary to the existence of society, society has a natural right to oblige the individual to bear his part of the burden ; that is, it has a right over his property to this amount, without obtaining any concession on his part. Society has, manifestly, a right to whatever is necessary to its own existence. Whatever, on the other hand, is not necessary to the existence of society, is not in the power of society, unless it has been conferred upon it by the will of the individual. That this is the rule, is evident from the necessity of the case. No other rule could be devised, which would not put the property of the individual wholly in the power of society ; or, in other words, absolutely destroy the liberty of the individual. If such be the facts, it will follow that society has a right over the property of the individual, for all purposes necessa- ry to the existence of society ; and, secondly, in all respects in which the individual has conferred that power, but only for the purposes for which it was conferred. And hence, 1. It is the duty of the individual to hold his property always subject to these conditions ; and, for such purposes, freely to contribute his portion of that expense for which he, in common with others, is receiving an 22* 258 RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. equivalent. No one has any more right than another to receive a consideration without making a remuneration. 2. The individual has a right to demand that no imposi- tions be laid upon him, unless they come under the one or the other of these classes. 3. He has a right to demand, that the burdens of society be laid upon individuals according to some equitable law. This law should be founded, as nearly as possible, upon the principle, that each one should pay, in proportion to. the benefits which he receives from the protection of society. As these benefits are either personal or pecuniary, and as those which are personal are equal, it would seem just that the variation should be in proportion to property. If these principles be just, it is evident that society may violate the right of individual property, in the following ways: 1. By taking, through the means of government, which Is its agent, the property of the individual, arbitrarily, or merely by the will of the executive. Such is the nature of the exactions in despotic governments. 2. When, by arbitrary will, or by law, it takes the property of the individual for purposes, which, whether good or bad, are not necessary to the existence of society, when the individuals of society have not consented that it be so appropriated. This consent is never to be presumed, except in the case of necessary expenditures, as has been shown. Whenever this plea cannot be made good, society has no right to touch the property of the individual, unless it can show the constitutional provision. Were our govern- ment to levy a tax to build churches, it would avail nothing to say, that churches were wanted, or that the good of society demanded it ; it would be an invasion of the right of property, until the article in the constitution could be shown, granting to the government power over property, for this very purpose. 3. Society, even when the claim is just, may violate the rights of the individual, by adopting an inequitable rule in the distribution of' the public burdens. Every individual has an equal right to employ his property unmolested, in just such manner as will innocently promote his own hap- RIGHT OF PROPERTY A3 VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 259 piness. That is, it is to society a matter of indifference in what way he employs it. Provided it be innocent, it does not come within the view of society. Hence, in this respect, all modes of employing it are equal. And the only question to be considered, in adjusting the appropria- tion, is, How much does he ask society to protect ? and by this rule it should, as we have said before, be adjusted. If, then, besides this rule, another be adopted ; and an indi- vidual be obliged, besides his pro rata proportion, to bear a burden levied on his particular catting, to the exemption of another, he has a right to complain. He is obliged to bear a double burden, and one portion of the burden is laid for a cause over which society professes itself to have no juris- diction. 4. Inasmuch as the value of property depends upon the unrestrained use which I am allowed to make of it, for the promotion of my individual happiness, society interferes with the right of property, if it in any manner abridge any of these. One man is rendered happy by accumulation, another by benevolence ; one by promoting science, another by promoting religion. Each one has a right to use what is his own, exactly as he pleases. And if society interfere, by directing the manner in which he shall appro- priate it, it is an act of injustice. It is as great a violation of property, for instance, to interfere with the purpose ot the individual in the appropriation of his property for reli- gious purposes, as it is to enact that a farmer shall keep but three cows, or a manufacturer employ but ten workmen. 260 CHAPTER THIRD. JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. CHARACTER is the present intellectual, social, and moral condition of an individual. It comprehends his actual acquisitions, his capacities, his habits, his tendencies, his moral feelings, and every thing which enters into a man'o state for the present, or his powers for attaining to a better state in the future. That character, in this sense, is by far the most impor- tant of all the possessions which a man can call his own, is too evident, to need discussion. It is the source of all that he either suffers or enjoys here, and of all that he either fears or hopes for hereafter. If such be jthe fact, benevolence would teach us the obligation to do all in our power to improve the character of our neighbor. This is its chief office^ This is the great rf practical aim of Christianity. Reciprocity merely jfrohibits the infliction of any injury upon the character of another. The reasons of this prohibition are obvious. No man can injure his own character, without violating the laws of / God, and also creating those tendencies which result in violation of the laws of man. He who, in any manner, becomes voluntarily the cause of this violation, is a partaker, and, not unfrequently, the largest partaker, in die guilte As he who tempts another to suicide is, in the sight of God, guilty of murder, so he who instigates another to wickedness, by producing those states of mind which neces- sarily lead to it, is, in the sight of God, held responsible, in no slight degree, for the result. Again, consider the motives which lead men to injure the character of each other. These are either pure malice, or reckless self-gratification. First, malice. Some men so far transcend the ordinary JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 261 limits of human depravity, as to derive a truly fiend-like pleasure from alluring and seducing from the paths of virtue the comparatively innocent, and to exult over the moral desolations which they have thus accomplished. " They will compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, they make him tenfold more the child of hell than themselves." It is scarcely necessary to add, that language has no terms of moral indignation that are capable of branding, with adequate infamy, conduct so intensely vicious. It is wickedness, without excuse, and without palliation. Or, secondly, take the more favorable case. One man wishes to accomplish some purpose of self-gratification, to indulge his passions, to increase his power, or to feed his vanity ; and, he proceeds to accom- plish that purpose, by means of rendering another immortal and accountable moral creature degraded for ever, a moral pest henceforth, on earth, and both condemned, and the cause of condemnation to others, throughout eternity. Who has given this wretch a right to work so awful a ruin among CocTs creatures, for the gratification of a momentary and an unholy desire? And will not the Judge of all, when he maketh inquisition for blood, press to the lips of such a sinner the bitterest dregs of the cup of trembling ? With this, all the teaching of the sacred Scriptures is consonant. The most solemn maledictions in the Holy Scriptures are uttered against those who have been the in- struments of corrupting others. In the Old Testament, Jeroboam is signalized as a sinner of unparalleled atrocity, because he made Israel to sin. In the New Testament, the judgment of the Pharisees has been already alluded to. And, again, " Whosoever shall break the least of these commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven." By comparison with the preceding verse, the meaning of this passage is seen to be, that, as the doing and teaching the commandments of God is the great proof of virtue, so the breaking them, and the teaching others to break them, is the great proof of vice. And, in the Revelation, where God is represented as taking signal vengeance upon Babylon, it is because " she did corrupt the earth with her wickedness." 262 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. The moral precept on this subject, then, is briefly this . We are forbidden, for any cause, or under any pretence, or in any manner, willingly to vitiate the character of another. This prohibition may be violated in two ways : 1. By weakening the moral restraints of men. 2. By exciting their evil passions. I. BY WEAKENING THE MORAL RESTRAINTS OF MEN. It has been already shown, that the passions of men were intended to be restrained by conscience ; and that the restraining power of conscience is increased by the doc- trines and motives derived from natural and revealed reli- gion. Whoever, therefore, in any manner, renders obtuse the moral sensibilities of others, or diminishes the power of that moral truth by which these sensibilities are rendered operative, inflicts permanent injury upon the character of his fellow-men. This also is done by all wicked example ; for, as we have seen before, the sight of wickedness weak- ens the power of conscience over us. It is done when, either by conversation or by writing, the distinctions be- tween right and wrong are treated with open scorn or covert contempt ; by all conduct calculated to render inoperative the sanctions of religion, as profanity, or Sabbath breaking ; by ridicule of the obligations of morality and religion, under the names of superstition, priestcraft, prejudices of educa- tion ; or, by presenting to men such views of the character of God as would lead them to believe that He cares very little about the moral actions of his creatures, but is willing that every one shall live as he chooses ; and that, therefore, the self-denials of virtue are only a form of gratuitous, self-inflicted torture. It is against this form of moral injury that the young need to be specially upon their guard. The moral sedu- cer, if he be a practised villain, corrupts the principles of his victim before he attempts to influence his or her prac- tice. It is not until the moral restraints are silently re- moved, and the heart left defenceless, that he presents the allurements of vice, and goads the passions to madness. His task is then easy. If he have succeeded in the first effort, he will rarely fail in the second. Let every young man, especially every young woman, beware of listening JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 263 for a moment to any conversation, of which the object is, to show that the restraints of virtue are unnecessary, or to diminish, in aught, the reverence and obedience, which are due from the creature to the law of the Creator. II. We injure the characters of men BY EXCITING TO ACTION THEIR EVIL DISPOSITIONS. 1. By viciously stimulating their imaginations. No one is corrupt in action, until he has become corrupt in imagi- nation. And, on the other hand, he who has filled his imagi- nation with conceptions of vice, and who loves to feast his depraved moral appetite with imaginary scenes of impurity, needs but the opportunity to become openly abandoned. Hence, one of the most nefarious means of corrupting, men, is to spread before them those images of pollution, by which they will, in secret, become familiar with sin. Such is the guilt of those who write, or publish, or sell, or lend, vicious books, under whatever name or character, and of those who engrave, or publish, or sell, or lend, or exhibit, obscene or lascivious pictures. Few instances of human depravity are marked by deeper atrocity, than that of an author, or a publisher, who, from literary vanity, or sordid love of gain, pours forth over society a stream of moral pollution, either in prose or in poetry. And yet, there are not only men who will do this, but, what is worse, there are men, yes, and women, too, who, if the culprit have possessed talent, will commend it, and even weep tears of sympathy over the infatuated genius, who was so sorely persecuted by that unfeeling portion of the world, who would not consider talent synonymous with virtue, and who could not applaud the effort of that ability which was exerted only to multiply the victims of vice. 2. By ministering to the appetites of others. Such is the relation of the power of appetite to that of conscience, that, where no positive allurements to vice are set before men, conscience will frequently retain its ascendency. While, on the other hand, if allurement be added to the power of appetite, reason and conscience prove a barrier too feeble to resist their combined and vicious tendency. Hence, he who presents the allurements of vice before others, who procures and sets before them the means of 264 JUSTICE" AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. vicious gratification, is, in a great degree, responsible for the mischief which he produces. Violations of this law occur in most cases of immoral traffic, as in the sale and manu- facture of intoxicating liquors, the sale of opium to the Chinese, &tc. Under the same class, is also comprehended the case of female prostitution. 3. By using others to minister to our vicious appetites. We cannot use others as ministers to our vices, without ren- dering them corrupt, and frequently inflicting an incurable wound upon their moral nature. For the sake of a base and wicked momentary gratification, the vicious man will- ingly ruins for ever an immortal being, who was, but for him, innocent ; and, yet. more, not unfrequently considers this ruin a matter of triumph. Such is the case in seduc- tion and adultery, and, in a modified degree, in all manner of lewdness and profligacy. 4. By cherishing the evil passions of men. By pas- sion, in distinction from appetite, I mean the spiritual in opposition to the corporeal desires. It frequently happens, that we wish to influence men, who cannot be moved by an appeal to their reason or conscience, but who can be easily moved by an appeal to their ambition, their avarice, their party zeal, their pride, or their vanity. An acquaint- ance with these peculiarities of individuals, is frequently called, understanding human nature, "knowing the weak sides of men., and is, by many persons, considered the grand means for great and masterly effect. But he can have but little practical acquaintance with a conscience void of offence, who does not instinctively feel that such conduct is unjust, mean and despicable. It is accomplish ing our purposes, by means of the moral degradation oi him of whom we profess to be the friends. It is mani- festly doing a man a greater injury that simply to rob him. If we stole his money, he would be injured only by being made poorer. If we procure his services or his money in this manner, we also make him poorer; and we besides cultivate those evil dispositions, which already expose him to sharpers ; and also render him more odious to the God before whom he must shortly stand. Nor do the ordinary excuses on this subject avail. It may JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 265 be said, men would not give to benevolent objects, but from these motives. Suppose it true. What if they did not ? They would be as well off, morally, as they are now. A man is no better, after having refused from avarice, who, at length, gives from vanity. His avarice is no better, and his vanity is even worse. It may be said, the cause of benevolence could not be sustained without it. Then, I say, let the cause of benevolence perish. God never meant one party of his creatures to be relieved, by our inflicting moral injury upon another. If there be no other way of sus- taining benevolence, God did not mean that benevolence should be sustained. But it is not so. The appeal to men's better feelings is the proper appeal to be made to men. It will, when properly made, generally succeed ; and if it do not, our responsibility is at an end. I cannot leave this subject, without urging it upon those who are engaged in promoting the objects of benevolent as- sociations. It seems to me, that no man has a right to E resent any other than an innocent motive, to urge his jllow-men to action. Motives derived from party zeal, from personal vanity, from love of applause, however covertly insinuated, are not of this character. If a man, by exciting such feelings, sold me a horse at twice its value, he would be a sharper. If he excite me to give from the same motives, the action partakes of the same character. The cause of benevolence is holy : it is the cause of God. It needs not human chicanery to approve it to the human heart. Let him who advocates it, therefore, go forth strong in the strength of Him whose cause he advocates. Let him rest his cause upon its own merits, and leave every man's conscience to decide whether or not he will enlist himself in its support. And, besides, were men conscientiously to confine themselves to the merits of their cause, they would much more carefully weigh their undertakings, before they attempted to enlist others in support of them. Much of that fanaticism, which withers the moral sympathies of man, would thus be checked at the outset. 23 266 CHAPTER FOURTH. OF JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. IT has been already remarked, that every man is, by the laws of his Creator, entitled to the physical results of his labor ; that is, to those results which arise from the operation of those laws of cause and effect, which govern the material on which he operates. Thus, if a man form several trees into a house, the result of this labor, supposing the materials and time to be his own, are his own also. Thus, again, if a man study diligently, the amount of knowledge which he gains is at his own disposal ; and he is at liberty, innocently, to use it as he will. And, in general, if a man be indus- trious, the immediate results of industry are his, and no one has any right to interfere with them. But these are not the only results. There are others, springing from those laws of cause and effect, which govern the opinions and actions of men towards each other, which are frequently of as great importance to the individual, as the physical results. Thus, if a man have built a house, the house is his. But, if he have done it well, there arises, in the minds of men, a certain opinion of his skill, and a regard towards him on account of it, which may be of more value to him than even the house itself ; for it may be the foundation of great subsequent good fortune. The indus- trious student is entitled, not merely to the use of that knowledge which he has acquired, but also to the esteem which the possession of that knowledge gives him among men. Now, these secondary and indirect results, though they may follow other laws of cause and effect, are yet as truly effects of the original cause, that is, of the character and actions of the man himself, and they as truly belong to him, as the primary and direct results of which we have before spoken. And, hence, to diminish the esteem in JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 267 which a man is held by his fellows, to detract from the reputation which he has thus acquired, is as great a violation of justice, nay, it may be a far greater violation of justice, than robbing him of money. It has, moreover, the additional aggravation of conferring no benefit upon the aggressor, beyond that of the gratification of a base and malignant passion. But, it may be said, the man has a reputation greater than he deserves, or a reputation for that which he does not deserve. Have I not a right to diminish it to its true level ? We answer, The objection proceeds upon the concession that the man lias a reputation. That is, men have such or such an opinion concerning him. Now, the rule of prop- erty, formerly mentioned, applies here, if a man be in possession of property, though unjustly in possession, this gives to no one a right to seize upon that property for him- self, or to seize it and destroy it, unless he can, himself, show a better title. The very fact of possession bars every other claimant, except that claimant whom the present pos- sessor has defrauded. So, in this case, if this reputation injures the reputation of another, the other has a right to set forth his own claims ; and any one else has a right, when prompt- ed by a desire of doing justice to the injured, to state the facts as they are ; but where this element of desire to do justice does not enter, no man has a right to diminish the esteem in which another is held, simply because he may believe the other to have more than he deserves. The moral rule, on this subject, I suppose to be this : We are forbidden to utter any thing which will be injurious to the reputation of another, except for adequate cause. I say, for adequate cause, because occasions may occur, in which it is as much our duty to speak, as it is at other times our duty to be silent. The consideration of these cases will be a subsequent concern. The precept, thus understood, applies to the cases in which we speak either from no suf- ficient motive, or from a bad motive. It is merely an ex- tension of the great principle of the law of reciprocity, which commands us to have the same simple desire that every other man should' enjoy, unmolested, the esteem in which 268 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. he is held by men, that we have to enjoy, unmolested, the same possession ourselves. I do not here consider the cases in which we utter, either wilfully or thoughtlessly, injurious falsehood respecting another. In these cases, the guilt of lying is superadded to that of slander. I merely here consider slander by itself; it being understood that, when what is asserted is false, it involves the sin of lying, besides the violation of the law of reciprocity, which we are here endeavoring to enforce. The precept includes several specifications. Some of them it may be important to enumerate. I. It prohibits us from giving publicity to the bad actions of men, without cause. The guilt here consists in cause- lessly giving publicity. Of course, it does not include those cases in which the man himself gives publicity to his own bad actions. He has himself diminished his reputation, and his act becomes a part of public indiscriminate infor- mation. We are at liberty to mention this, like any other fact, when the mention of it is demanded ; but not to do it for the sake of injuring him. So, whenever his bad actions are made known by the providence of God, it comes under the same rule. Thus, I may know that a. man has acted dishonestly. This alone does not give me liberty to speak of it. But, if his dishonesty have been proved before a court of justice, it then becomes really a part of his reputation, and I am at liberty to speak of it in the same manner as of any other fact. Yet even here, if I speak of it with pleas- ure, or with a desire of injury, I commit sin. Some of the reasons for this rule, are the following : 1. The very act itself is injurious to the slanderer's own moral character, and to that oLhim who lends himself to be his auditor. Familiarity with wrong diminishes our abhor- rence of it. The contemplation of it in others fosters the spirit of envy and uncharitableness, and leads us, in the end, to exult in, rather than sorrow over, the faults of others. 2. In the present imperfect state, where every individual, being fallible, must fail somewhere, if every one were at lib- erty to speak of all the wrong and all the imperfection of every one whom he knew, society would soon become intolerable, from the festering of universal ill-will. What would be- JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 269 come of families, of friendships, of communities, if parents and children, husbands and wives, acquaintances, neighbors, and citizens, should proclaim every failing which they knew or heard of, respecting each other? Now, there can no medium be established between telling every thing, and forbidding every thing to be told which is told without adequate cause. 3. We may judge of the justice of the rule, by applying it to ourselves. We despise the man who, either thought- lessly or maliciously, proclaims what he considers, either justly or unjustly, our failings. Now, what can be more unjust or more despicable, than to do that which our own conscience testifies to be unjust and despicable in others ? II. The same law forbids us to utter general conclusions respecting the characters of men, drawn from particular bad actions which they may have committed. This is manifest injustice, and it includes, frequently, lying as well as slander. A single action is rarely decisive of character, even in respect to that department of character to which it belongs. A single illiberal action does not prove a man to be covetous, any more than a single act of charity proves him to be benevolent. How unjust, then, must it be, to proclaim a man destitute of a whole class of virtues, because of one failure in virtue ! How much more unjust, on account of one fault, to deny him all claim to any virtue whatsoever ! Yet such is frequently the very object of calumny. And, in general, this form of 'vice is added to that just noticed. Men first, in violation of the law of reciprocity, make public the evil actions of others ; and then, with a malignant power of generalization, proceed to deny their claims, not only to a whole class of virtues, but, not unfrequently, to all virtue whatsoever. The reasons, in this case, are similar to those just mentioned. III. We are forbidden to judge, that is, to assign un- necessarily bad motives to the actions of men. I say un- necessarily, for some actions are in their nature such, that to presume a good motive is impossible. This rule would teach us, first, to presume no unworthy motive, when the action is susceptible of an innocent one. And, secondly, never to ascribe to an action which we 23* 270 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. confess to be good, any other motive than that from which it professes to proceed. This is the rule by which we are bound to be governed in our own private opinions of men. And if, from any circumstances, we are led to entertain any doubts of the motives of men, we are bound to retain these doubts within our own bosoms, unless we are obliged, for some sufficient reason, to disclose them. But if we are obliged to adopt this rule respecting our own opinions of others, by how much more are we obliged to adopt it in the publication of our opinions ! If we are not allowed, unnecessarily, to suppose an unworthy motive, by how much less are we allowed to circulate it, and thus render it universally sup- posed ! " Charity thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity.' 1 The reasons for this rule are obvious : 1. The motives of men, unless rendered evident by their actions, can be known to God alone. They are, evidently, out of the reach of man. In assigning motives unnecessa- rily, we therefore undertake to assert as fact, what we at the outset confess that we have not the means of knowing to be such ; which is, in itself, falsehood : and we do all this for the sake of gratifying a contemptible vanity, or a wicked envy ; or, what is scarcely less reprehensible, from a thoughtless love of talking. 2. There is no offence by which we are excited to a livelier or more just indignation, than by the misinterpreta- tion of our own motives. This quick sensitiveness in our- selves, should admonish us of the guilt which we incur, when we traduce the' motives of others. IV. By the same rule, we are forbidden to lessen the estimation in which others are held, by ridicule, mimicry, or by any means by which they are brought into contempt. No man can be greatly respected by those to whom he is the frequent subject of laughter. It is but a very imperfect excuse for conduct of this sort, to plead that we do not mean any harm. What do we mean ? Surely, reasonable beings should be prepared to answer this question. Were the witty calumniator to stand concealed, and hear himself made the subject of remarks precisely similar to those in which he indulges respecting others, he would have a very JUSTICE AS IT RESPECT3 KEPLTAT^C'N. 271 definite conception of what oth, ~s mean. Let him, then, carry the lesson home to his own bosom. Nor is this evil the less for the veil under which it is frequently and hypocritically hidden. Men and women propagate slander under the cover of secrecy, supposing that, by uttering it under this injunction, the guilt is of course removed. But it is not so. The simple question is this : Does my duty either to God or to man require me to publish this, which will injure another ? If it do, publish it wherever that duty requires, and do it fearlessly. If it do not, it is just as great guilt to publish it to one as to another. We are bound, in all such cases, to ask ourselves the question, Am I under obligation to tell this fact to this person ? If not, I am under the contrary obligation to be silent. And still more. This injunction of secrecy is gen- erally nothing better than the mere dictate of cowardice. We wish to gratify our love of detraction, but are afraid of the consequences to ourselves. We therefore converse under this injunction, that the injury to another may be with impunity to ourselves. And hence it is, that in this manner the vilest and most injurious calumnies are generally circulated. And, lastly, if all this be so, it will be readily seen that a very large portion of the ordinary conversation of persons, even in many respects estimable, is far from being inno- cent. How very common is personal character, in all its length and breadth, the matter of common conversation ! And in this discussion, men seem to forget that they are under any other law than that which is administered by a judge and jury. How commonly are characters dissected, with apparently the only object of displaying the power of malignant acumen possessed by the operator, as though another's reputation were made for no other purpose than the gratification of the meanest and most unlovely attributes of the human heart ! Well may we say, with the apostle James, " If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, able to bridle the whole body." Well may we tremble before the declaration of the blessed Savior: " For every idle word that men speak, they shall give an account in the day of judgment." - 272 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. The following extract from Bishop Wilson, on this sub- ject, breathes the spirit of true Christian philanthropy : 4< It is too true, that some evil passion or other, and to gratify our corruption, is the aim of most conversations. We love to speak of past troubles ; hatred and ill-will make us take pleasure in relating the evil actions of our enemies. We compare, with some degree of pride, the advantages which we have over others. We recount, with too sensible a pleasure, the worldly happiness which we enjoy. This strengthens our passions, and increases our corruption. God grant that I may watch against a weakness that has such evil consequences ! May I never hear, and never repeat with pleasure, such things as may dishonor God, hun. my own character, or injure my neighbor !" Bishop Wil- son's Sacra Privata. The precepts of the Scriptures, on this subject, are numerous and explicit. It will be necessary here to refer only to a few, for the sake of illustrating their general ten- dency : " Judge not, that ye be not judged : for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged ; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye ?" Matthew vii, 1 5. " Let all bitterness, and wrath, and clamor, and evil-speaking, be put away from you." Ephe- sians iv, 3 1 . " Speak evil of no man." Titus iii, 2. " He that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil." 1 Peter iii, 10. See also James, third chapter, for a graphic delineation of the miseries produced by the unlicensed use of the tongue. Secondly. I have thus far considered the cases in which silence, respecting the evil actions of others, is our duty. It is our duty, when we have no just cause, either for speaking at all, or for speaking to the particular person whom we address. But where there is a sufficient cause, we are under an equally imperative obligation to speak, wherever and whenever that cause shall demand it. The common fault of men is, that they speak when they should be silent, and are silent only when they should speak. JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 273 The plain distinction, in this case, is the following : We are forbidden, causelessly, to injure another, even if he have done wrong. Yet, whenever justice can be done, or inno- cence protected, in no other manner than by a course which must injure him, we are under no such prohibition. No man has a right to expect to do wrong with impunity ; much less has he a right to expect that, in order to shield him from the just consequences of his actions, injustice should be done to others, or that other men shall, by silence, deliver up the innocent and unwavy into his power. The principle by which we are to test our own motives, in speaking of that which may harm others, is this : When we utter any thing which will harm another, and we do it either without cause, or with pleasure, or thoughtlessly, we are guilty of calumny. When we do it with pain and sor- row for the offender, and from the sincere motive of protect- ing the innocent, of promoting the ends of public justice, or for the good of the offender himself, and speak of it only to such persons, and in such manner, as is consistent with these ends, we may speak of the evil actions of others, and yet be wholly innocent of calumny. We are therefore bound to speak of the faults of others, 1. To promote the ends of public justice. He who con- ceals a crime against society, renders himself a party to the offence. We are bound here, not merely to speak of it, but also to speak of it to the proper civil officer, in order that it may be brought to trial and punishment. The ordinary prejudice against informing is unwise and immoral. He who, from proper motives, informs against crime, per- forms an act as honorable as that of the judge who tries the cause, or of the juror who returns the verdict. That this may be done from improper motives, alters not the case. A judge may hold his office for the love of money, but this does not make the office despicable. 2. To protect the innocent. When we are possessed of a knowledge of certain facts in a man^s history, which, if known to a third person, would protect him from im- portant injury, it may frequently be our duty to put that person on his guard. If A knows that B, under the pre- tence of religion, is insinuating himself into the good opin- 274 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. ion of C, for the purpose of gaining control over his prop erty, A is bound to put C upon his guard. If I know that a man who is already married, is paying his addresses to a lady in another country, I am bound to give her the information. So, if I know of a plan laid for the purpose of seduction, I am bound to make use of that knowledge to defeat it. All that is required here, is, that I know what I assert to be fact ; and that I use it simply for the purposes specified. 3. For the good of the offender himself. When we know of the crimes of another, and there is some person for instance, a parent, a guardian, or instructor who might, by control or advice, be the means of the offender's reformation, it is our duty to give the necessary information. It is frequently the greatest kindness that we can manifest to both parties. Were it more commonly practised, the allurements to sin would be much less attractive, and the hope of success in correcting the evil habits of the young, much more encouraging. No wicked person has a right to expect that the community will keep his conduct a secret from those who have a right specially to be informed of it. He who does so is partaker in the guilt. 4. Though we may not be at liberty to make public the evil actions of another, yet no obligation exists to conceal his fault by maintaining towards him our former habits of intimacy. If we know him to be unworthy of our confi- dence or acquaintance, we have no right to act a lie, by conducting towards him, in public or in private, as though he were worthy of it. By associating with a man, we give to the public an assurance, that we know of nothing to render him unworthy of our association. If we falsify this assurance, we are guilty of deception, and of a decep- tion by which we benefit the wicked at the expense of the innocent, and, so far as our example can do it, place the latter in the power of the former. And still more, if we associate, on terms of voluntary intimacy, with persons of known bad character, we virtually declare that such offences constitute no reason why the persons in question are not good enough associates for us. We thus virtually become the patrons of their crime. JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 275 5. From what has been remarked, we see what is the nature of an historian's duty. He has to do with facts which the individuals themselves have made public, or which have been made public by the providence of God. He records what has already been made known. What has not been made known, therefore, comes .not within his province ; but whatever has been made known, comes properly within it. This latter he is bound to use, without either fear, favor or affection. If, from party zeal or secta- rian bigotry, or individual partiality, he exaggerate, or con- ceal, or misrepresent, if he " aught extenuate, or set down aught in malice," he is guilty of calumny of the most in- excusable character. It is calumny perpetrated deliber- ately, under the guise of impartiality, and perpetrated in a form intended to give it the widest publicity and the most permanent duration. These remarks have had respect, principally, to the pub- lication of injurious truth or falsehood, by conversation. But it will be immediately seen that they apply, with addi- tional force, to the publication of whatever is injurious by the press. If it be wrong to injure my neighbor's rep- utation within the limited circle of my acquaintance, how much more wrong must it be to injure it throughout a nation ! If it be, by universal acknowledgment, mean, to underrate the talents or vilify the character of a personal rival, how much more so, that of a political opponent ! If it would be degrading in me to do it myself, by how much is it less degrading to cause it to be done by others, and to honor or dishonor with my confidence, and reward with political distinction, those who do it ? Because a man is a political opponent, does he cease to be a creature of God ; and do we cease to be under obligations to obey the law of God in respect to him ? or rather, I might ask, do men think that political collisions banish the Deity from the throne of the universe ? Nor do these remarks apply to political dissensions alone. The conductor of a public press possesses no greater privileges than any other man, nor has he any more right than any other man, to use, or suffer to be used, his press, for the sake of gratifying per- sonal pique, or avenging individual wrong, or holding up 276 JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. individuals, without trial, to public scorn. Crime against society is to be punished by society, and by society alone ; and he who conducts a public press has no more right, because he has the physical power, to inflict pain, than any other individual. If one man may do it because he has a press, another may do it because he has muscular strength ; and thus, the government of society is brought to an end. Nor has he even a right to publish cases of individual vice, unless the providence of God has made them public before. While they are out of sight of the public, they are out of his sight, unless he can show that he has been specially appointed to perform this service. 277 CLASS FIRST. DUTIES TO MEN, AS MEN. VERACITY. EVERY individual, by necessity, stands in most important relations, both to the past and to the future. Without a knowledge of what has been, and of what, so far as his fellow-men are concerned, will be, he can form no decision in regard to the present. But this knowledge could never be attained, unless his constitution were made to cor- respond with his circumstances. It has, therefore, been made to correspond. There is, on the one hand, in men, a strong a priori disposition to tell the truth ; and it controls them, unless some other motive interpose ; and there is, on the other hand, a disposition to believe what is told, unless some counteracting motive is supposed to operate. Veracity has respect to the PAST AND PRESENT, or to the FUTURE. We shall consider them separately. 24 278 CHAPTER FIRST. VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THE PAST AND PRESENT. VERACITY, in this sense, always has respect to a fact ; that is, to something done, or to something which s we be- lieve to be doing. Moral truth consists in our intention to convey to another, to the best of our ability, the conception of a fact, exactly as it exists in our own minds. Physical truth consists in conveying to another the con- ception of a fact, precisely as it actually exists, or existed. These two, it is evident, do not always coincide. I may innocently have obtained an incorrect conception of a fact myself, and yet may intend to convey it to another precisely as it exists in my own mind. Here, then, is a moral truth, but a physical untruth. Or, again, I may have a correct conception of a fact, supposing it to be an incorrect one, but may convey it to another, with the intention to deceive. Here, then, is a moral falsehood, and a physical truth. Pure truth is com- municated, only, when I have a correct conception of a fact, and communicate it, intentionally, to another, precisely as it exists in my own mind. The law on this subject demands, that, when we profess to convey a fact to another, we, to the best of our ability, convey to him the impression which exists in our own minds. This implies, first, that we convey the impression which exists, and not another ; and, secondly, that we con- vey that impression, without diminution or exaggeration. In other words, we are obliged, in the language of jurispru- dence, to tell the truth, the whole truth, .and nothing but the truth. This law, therefore, forbids, 1. The utterance, as truth, of what we know to be false. VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS, ETC. 279 I say the utterance as truth, for we sometimes imagine cases, for the sake of illustration, as in parables or fictitious writing, where it is known beforehand, that we merely address the imagination. Since we utter it as fiction, and do not wish it to be believed, there is no falsehood if it be not true. 2. Uttering as truth, what we do not know to be true. Many things which men assert they cannot know to be true ; such, for instance, are, in many cases, our views of the motives of others. There are many other things which may be probable, and we may be convinced that they are so, but of which we cannot arrive at the certainty. There are other things which are merely matters of opinion, con- cerning which every several man may hold a different opinion. Now, in any such case, to utter as truth what we cannot know, or have not known to be truth, is falsehood. If a man utter any thing as truth, he assumes the responsi- bility of ascertaining it to be so. If he, who makes the assertion, be not responsible, where shall the responsibility rest ? And, if any man may utter what he chooses, under no responsibility, there is the end of all credibility. But, it will be said, are we never to utter any thing which we do not know to be true ? I answer : we are never to utter as truth what we do not Tcnow to be true. Whatever is a matter of probability we may utter as a mat- ter of probability ; whatever is a matter of opinion, we may state as a matter of opinion. If we convey to another a conception as true, of which we have only the impression of probability, we convey a different conception from that which exists in our own minds, and of course we do, in fact, speak falsely. 3. Uttering what may be true in fact, but uttering it in such a manner, as to convey a false impression to the hearers. ' As, a. By exaggerating some or all of the circumstances attendant upon the facts. b. By extenuating some or all of the circumstances at- tendant upon the facts. c. By exaggerating some, and extenuating others. d. By stating the facts just as they existed, but so ar- 280 VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS ranging them as to leave a false impression upon the hearer. As, for instance, I might say, A entered B's room, and left it at ten o'clock ; within five minutes after he left it, B dis- covered that his watch had been stolen. Now, although I do not say that A stole B's watch, yet, if I intentionally so arrange and connect these facts as to leave a false impres- sion upon the mind of the hearer, I am guilty of falsehood. This is a crime to which pleaders and partial historians, and all prejudiced narrators, are specially liable. 4. As the crime, here considered, consists in making a false impression, with intention to deceive ; the same effect may be produced by the tones of the voice, a look of the eye, a motion of the head, or any thing by which the mind of another may be influenced. The same rule, therefore, applies to impressions made in this manner, as to those made by words. 5. As this rule applies to our intercourse with men as intelligent agents, it applies to our intercourse with men under all the possible relations of life. Thus, it forbids parents to lie to children, and children to lie to parents ; instructors to pupils, and pupils to instructors ; the old to the young, and the young to the old ; attorneys to jurors, and jurors to attorneys ; buyers to sellers, and sellers to buyers. That is, the obligation is universal, and cannot be annulled, by any of the complicated relations in which men stand to each other. Nor can it be varied, by the considerations, often intro- duced, that the person with whom we are conversing has no right to know the truth. This is a sufficient reason why we should not tell the truth, but it is no reason why we should tell a falsehood. Under such circumstances, we are at liberty to refuse to reveal any thing, but we are not at liberty to utter what is false. The reason for this, is the following : The obligation to ve- racity does not depend upon the right of the inquirer to know the truth. Did our obligation depend upon this, it would vary with every person with whom we conversed ; and, in every case before speaking, we should be at liberty to measure the extent of our neighbor's right, and to tell him truth or falsehood accordingly. And, inasmuch as the THE PAST AND PRESENT. 281 person whom we address, would never know at what rate we estimated his right ; no one would know how much to believe, any more than we should know how much truth we were under obligation to tell. This would at once de- stroy every obligation to veracity. On the contrary, inas- much as we are under obligation to utter nothing but the truth in consequence of our relations to God, this obligation is never affected by any of the circumstances under which we are called upon to testify. Let no one, therefore, excuse himself, on the ground that he tells only innocent lies. It cannot be innocent to do that which God has for- bidden. " Lie not one to another, brethren, seeing ye have put off the old man with his deeds." That obedience to this law is demanded by the will of God, is manifest from several considerations : 1. We are created with a disposition to speak what is true, and also to believe what is spoken. The fact that we are thus constituted, conveys to us an intimation that the Creator wills us to obey this constitution. The intention is as evident as that which is manifested in creating the eye for light, and light for the eye. 2. We are created with a moral constitution, by which (unless our moral susceptibility shall have been destroyed) we suffer pain whenever we violate this law, and by whicn also we receive pleasure whenever, under circumstances which urge to the contrary, we steadfastly obey it. 3. We are so constituted that obedience to the law of veracity is absolutely necessary to our happiness. Were we to lose either our feeling of obligation to tell the truth, or our disposition to receive as truth whatever is told to us, there would at once be an end to all science and all knowl- edge, beyond that which every man had obtained by his own personal observation and experience. No man could profit by the discoveries of his contemporaries, much less by the discoveries of those men who have gone before him. Language would be useless, and we should be but little re- moved from the brutes. Every one must be aware, upon the slightest reflection, that a community of entire liars could not exist in a state of society. The effects of such a course 24* 282 VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS of conduct upon the whole, show us what is the will of God in the individual case. 4. The will of God is abundantly made known to us in the holy Scriptures. I subjoin a few examples : " Thou shalt not bear false witness against they neigh- bor." Ex. xx, 16. " Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord." Prov. vi, 16. " Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile." Psalm xxxiv, 13. Those that speak lies are called- children of the devil, that is, followers, imitators of the actions of the devil. John viii, 44. See also the cases of Ananias and Sapphira, and of Gehazi. Acts v, and 2 Kings v, 20 27. "All liars shall have their portion in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone." Rev. xxi, 8. " There shall in no wise enter therein (into heaven) any thing that maketh a lie." Ibid, verse 27. From what has been said, the importance of strict ad- herence to veracity is too evident to need further remark. I will, however, add, that the evil of falsehood in small matters, in lies told to amuse, in petty exaggerations, and in complimentary discourse, is not by any means duly esti- mated. Let it be always borne in mind, that he who knowingly utters what is false, tells a lie ; and a lie, whether white, or of any other color, is a violation of the command of that God by whom we must be judged. And let us also remember that there is no vice which, more easily than this, stupifies a man's conscience. He who tells lies frequently, will soon become an habitual liar ; and an habitual liar will soon lose the power of readily distinguishing between the conceptions of his imagination and the recollections of his memory. I have known a few persons, who seemed to have arrived at this most deplorable moral condition. Let every one, therefore, beware of even the most distant ap- proaches to this detestable vice. A volume might easily be written on the misery and loss of character which have grown out of a single lie ; and another volume of illustra- tions of the moral power which men have gained by means of no other prominent attribute than that of bold, unshrinking veracity THE PAST AND PRESENT. 283 If lying be thus pernicious to ourselves, how wicked must it be to teach it, or specially to require it of others ! What shall we say, then, of parents, who, to accomplish a mo- mentary purpose, will not hesitate to utter to a child the most flagitious falsehoods ? Or what shall we say of those heads of families, who direct their children or servants de- liberately to declare that they are not at home, while they are quietly sitting in their parlor or their study ? What right has any one, for the purpose of securing a momentary convenience, or avoiding a petty annoyance, to injure for ever the moral sentiments of another ? How can such a man or woman expect to hear the truth from those whom they have deliberately taught to lie ? The expectation is absurd ; and the result will show that such persons, in the end, drink abundantly of the cup which they themselves have mingled. Before any man is tempted to lie, let him remember that God governs this universe on the principles of veracity, and that the whole constitution of things is so arranged as to vindicate truth, and to expose falsehood. Hence, the first lie always requires a multitude of lies to conceal it ; each one of which plunges the criminal into more inextricable embarrassment ; and, at last, all of them will combine to cover him with shame. The inconveniences of truth, aside from the question of guilt and innocence, are infinitely less than the inconveniences of falsehood. 284 CHAPTER SECOND. VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. THE future is, within some conditions, subject to our power. We may, therefore, place ourselves under moral obligations to act, within those conditions, in a particular manner. When we make a promise, we voluntarily place ourselves under such a moral obligation. The law of ve- racity obliges us to fulfil it. This part of the subject includes promises and contracts. I. Of PROMISES. In every promise, two things are to be considered : the intention and the obligation. 1. TIic intention. The law of veracity, in this respect, demands that we convey to the promisee the intention as it exists in our own minds. When we inform another that we intend to do a service for him to-morrow, we have no more right to lie about this intention than about any other matter. 2. The obligation. The law of veracity obliges us to fulfil the intention just as we made it known. In other words, we are under obligation to satisfy, precisely, the ex- pectation which we voluntarily excited. The rule of Dr. Paley is as follows : " A promise is binding in the sense in which the promiser supposed the promisee to receive it." The modes in which promises may be violated, and the reasons for believing the obligation to fulfil promises to be enforced by the law of God, are so similar to those men- tioned in the preceding chapter, that I will not repeat them. I therefore proceed to consider in what cases promises are not binding. The following are, I think, among the most important : Promises are not binding, VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 1. When the performance is impossible. We cannot be under obligation to do what is plainly out of our power. The moral character of such a promise, will, however, vary with the circumstances under which the promise was made. If I knew nothing of the impossibility, and honestly ex- pressed an intention which I designed to fulfil, I am, at the bar of conscience, acquitted. The providence of God has interfered with my intention, and I am not to blame. If, on the other hand, I knew of the impossibility, I have vio- lated the law of veracity. I expressed an intention which I did not mean to fulfil. I am bound to make good to the other party all the loss which he may have sustained by my crime. 2. When the promise is unlawful. No man can be under obligation to violate obligation ; for this would be to suppose a man to be guilty for not being guilty. Much less, can he be under obligation to violate his obligations to God. Hence, promises to lie, to steal, or in any manner to violate the laws of society, are not binding. And the duty of every man, who has placed himself under any such obligation, is, at once, to confess his fault, to declare himself free from his engagement, and to endeavor to persuade others to do the same. Here, as in the former instance, there are two cases. Where the unlawfulness was not known, the promiser is under no other obligation than that of informing the promisee of the facts as soon as possible. Where the unlawfulness was known to the promiser, and not to the promisee, I think that the former is bound to make good the loss to the latter, if any occur. When it is known to both parties, either is at liberty to disengage himself, and neither is under any obligation to make any restitution ; for the fault is common to both, and each should bear his own share of the inconvenience. 3. Promises are not binding where no expectation is vol- untarily excited by the promiser. He is bound only to fulfil the expectation which he voluntarily excites ; and if he have excited none, he has made no promise. If A tell B that he shall give a horse to C, and B, without A's knowledge or consent, inform C of it, A is not bound. But, if he 286 VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. directed B to give the information, he is as much bound as though he informed C himself. 4. Promises are not binding when they are Tcnown by both parties to proceed upon a condition, which condition is sub- sequently, by the promiser, found not to exist. As, if A promise to give a beggar money on the faith of his story, and the story be subsequently found to be a fabrication, A, in such a case, is manifestly not bound. 5. As the very conception of a promise implies an obli- gation entered into between two intelligent moral agents, I think there can be no such obligation entered into where one of the parties is not a moral agent. I do not think we can properly be said to make a promise to a brute, nor to violate it. I think the same is true of a madman. Never- theless, expediency has, even in such cases, always taught the importance of fulfilling expectation which we volun- tarily excite. I think, however, that it stands on the ground of expediency, and not of obligation. I do not suppose that any one would feel guilty for deceiving a mad- man, in order to lead him to a madhouse. These seem to me to be the most common cases in which promises are not binding. The mere inconvenience to which we may be exposed by fulfilling a promise, is not a release. We are at liberty, beforehand, to enter into the obligation, or not. No man need promise unless he please : but, having once promised, he is holclen until he be morally liberated. Hence, as, after the obligation is formed, it cannot be recalled, prudence would teach us to be ex- tremely cautious in making promises. Except in cases where we are, from long experience, fully acquainted with all the ordinary contingencies of an event, we ought never to make a promise without sufficient opportunity for reflec- tion. It is a good rule, to enter into no important engage- ment on the same day in which it is first presented to our notice. And I believe that it will be generally found, that those who are most careful in promising, are the most con- scientious in performing ; and that, on the contrary, those who are willing, on all occasions, to pledge themselves on the instant, have very little difficulty in violating their en- gagements with correspondent thoughtlessness. *fc.RACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 287 OF CONTRACTS. The peculiarity of a contract is, that it is a mutual prom- ise : that is, we promise to do one thing, on the condition that another person does another. The rule of interpretation, the reasons for its obligatori- ness, and the cases of exception to the obligatoriness, are the same as in the preceding cases, except that it has a specific condition annexed, by which the obligation is limited. Hence, after a contract is made, while the other party performs his part, we are under obligation to perform our part ; but, if either party fail, the other is, by the failure of the condition essential to the contract, liberated. But this is not all. Not only is the one party liberated, by the failure of the other party to perform his part of the contract ; the first has, moreover, upon the second, a claim for damages to the amount of what he may have suffered by such failure. Here, however, it is to be observed, that a distinction is to be made between a simple contract, that is, a contract to do a particular act, and a contract by which we enter upon a relation established by our Creator. Of the first kind, are ordinary mercantile contracts to sell or deliver merchandise at a particular place, for a specified sum, to be paid at a particular time. Here, if the price be not paid, we are under no obligation to deliver the goods ; and, if the goods be not delivered, we are under no obligation to pay the price. Of the second kind, are the contract of civil society, and the marriage contract. These, being appointed by the constitution under which God has placed us, may be dissolved only for such reasons as he has ap- pointed. Thus, society and the individual enter mutually into certain obligations with respect to each other ; but it does not follow, that either party is liberated by every fail- ure of the other. The case is the same with the marriage contract. In these instances, each party is bound to fulfil its part of the contract, notwithstanding the failure of the other. It is here proper to remark, that the obligation to veracity is precisely the same, under what relations soever it may be 288 VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. formed. It is as binding between individuals and society, on both parts, and upon societies and societies, as it is be- tween individuals. There is no more excuse for a society, when it violates its obligation to an individual, or for an individual when he violates his obligations to a society, than in any other case of deliberate falsehood. By how much more are societies or communities bound to fidelity, in their engagements with each other, since the faith of treaties is the only barrier which interposes to shield nations from the appeal to bloodshed in every case of collision of interests ! And the obligation is the same, under what circumstances soever nations may treat with each other. A civilized people has no right to violate its solemn obli- gations, because the other party is uncivilized. A strong nation has no right to lie to a weak nation. The simple fact, that two communities of moral agents have entered into engagements, binds both of them equally in the sight of their common Creator. And He, who is the Judge of all, in His holy habitation, will assuredly avenge, with most solemn retributions, that violation of faith, in which the peculiar blessings bestowed upon one party are made a reason for inflicting misery upon the other party, with whom he has dealt less bountifully. Shortly before the death of the Duke of Burgundy, the pupil of Fenelon, a cabinet council was held, at which he was present, to take into consideration the expediency of violating a treaty ; which it was supposed could be done with manifest advantage to France. The treaty was read ; and the ministers ex- plained in what respects it operated unfavorably, and how great an accession of territory might be made to France, by acting in defiance of its solemn obligations. Reasons of state were, of course, offered in abundance, to justify the deed of perfidy. The Duke of Burgundy heard them all in silence. When they had finished, he closed the conference by laying his hand upon the instrument, and saying, with emphasis, " Gentlemen, there is a treaty." This single sentiment is a more glorious monument to his fame, than a column inscribed with the record of an hundred victories. It is frequently said, partly by way of explanation, and VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 289 partly by way of excuse, for the violation of contracts by communities, that corporate bodies have no conscience. In what sense this is true, it is not necessary here to inquire. It is sufficient to know that every one of the corporators has a conscience, and is responsible to God for obedience to its dictates. Men may mystify before each other, and they may stupify the monitor in their own bosoms, by throwing the blame of perfidy upon each other ; but it is yet worthy to be remembered, that they act in the presence of a Being with whom the night shineth as the day, and that they must appear before a tribunal where there will be f no shuffling." For beings acting under these conditions, there surely can be no wiser or better course, than that of simple, unsophisticated verity, under what relations soever they may be called upon to act. 25 296 CHAPTER THIRD. OF OATHS. I. The theory of oaths. It is frequently of the highest importance to society, that the facts relating to a particular transaction should be dis- tinctly and accurately ascertained. Unless this could be done, neither the innocent could be protected, nor the guilty punished ; that is, justice could not be administered, and society could not exist. To almost every fact, or to the circumstances which determine it to be fact, there must, from the laws of cause and effect, and from the social nature of man, be many wit- nesses. The fact can, therefore, be generally known, if the witnesses can be induced to testify, and to testify the truth. To place men under such circumstances, that, upon the ordinary principles of the human mind, they shall be most likely to testify truly, is the design of administering an oath. In taking an oath, besides incurring the ordinary civil penalties incident to perjury, he who swears, calls upon God to witness the truth of his assertions ; and, also, either expressly or by implication, invokes upon himself the judg- ments of God, if he speak falsely. The ordinary form of swearing in this country, and in Great Britain, is to close the promise of veracity with the words, " So help me God ;" that is, may God only help me so as I tell the truth. Inas- much as, without the help of God, we must be miserable for time and for eternity ; to relinquish his help, if we vio- late the truth, is, on this condition, to imprecate upon our- selves the absence of the favor of God, and, of course, all possible misery for ever. The theory of oaths, then, I suppose to be as follows : 1. Men naturally speak the truth, when there is no OF OATHS. 291 counteracting motive to prevent it ; and, unless some such motive be supposed to supervene, they expect the truth to be spoken. 2. When, however, by speaking falsely, some immediate advantage can be gained, or some immediate evil avoided, they will frequently speak falsely. 3. But, when a greater good can be gained, or a greater evil avoided, by speaking the truth, than could possibly be either gained or avoided by speaking falsely, they will, on the ordinary principles of the human mind, speak the truth. To place them under such circumstances, is the design of an oath. 4. Now, as the favor of God is the source of every blessing which man can possibly enjoy, and as his dis- pleasure must involve misery utterly beyond the grasp of our limited conceptions, if we can place men under such circumstances that, by speaking falsely, they relinquish all claim to the one, and incur all that is awful in the other, we manifestly place a stronger motive before them for speaking the truth, than can possibly be conceived for speaking falsehood. Hence, it is supposed, on the ordinary principles of the human mind, that men, under such circum- stances, will speak the truth. Such I suppose to be the theory of oaths. There can be ho doubt that, if men acted upon this conviction, the truth would be, by means of oaths, universally elicited. But, inasmuch as men may be required to testify, whose practical conviction of these great moral truths is at best but weak, and who are liable to be more strongly influenced by immediate than by ulterior motives, human punishments have always been affixed to the crime of perjury. These, of course, vary in different ages, and in different periods of society. The most equitable provision seems to be that of the Jewish law, by which the perjurer was made to suffer precisely the same injury which he had designed to inflict upon the innocent party. The Mosaic enactment seems intended to have been, in regard to this crime, unusually rigorous. The judges are specially commanded not to spare, but to exact an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It certainly deserves serious consideration, whether modern 292 OF OATH;> legislators might not derive important instruction from this feature of Jewish jurisprudence. II. The lawfulness of oaths. On this subject, a diversi- ty of opinion has been entertained. It has been urged, by those who deny the lawfulness of oaths, 1. That oaths are frequently forbidden in the New Tes- tament; and that we are commanded to use yes for our affirmative, and no for our negative ; for the reason that, " whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil, or of the evil one." 2. That no man has a right to peril his eternal salvation, upon a condition which, from intellectual or moral imbecility, he would be so liable to violate. 3. That no one has a right to oblige another to place himself under such conditions. 4. That the frequent use of oaths tends, by abating our reverence for the Deity, to lessen the practical feeling of the obligation to veracity. 5. That no reason can be assigned, why this crime should be treated so differently from every other. Other crimes, so far as man is concerned, are left to human pun- ishments ; and there can be no reason why this crime should involve the additional punishment intended by the impre- cation of the loss of the soul. 6. It is said that those sects who never take an oath, are as fully believed, upon their simple affirmation, as any others ; nay, that false witness among them is more rare than among other men taken at random. This is, I believe, acknowledged to be the fact. Those who defend the lawfulness of oaths urge, on the contrary, 1. That those passages in the New Testament which have been referred to, forbid, not judicial oaths, but merely profanity. 2. That our Savior responded, when examined upon oath. This, however, is denied, by the other party, to be a fair interpretation. 3. That the Apostles, on several occasions, call God to witness, when they are attesting to particular facts. The instances adduced are such phrases as these : " God is my OP OATHS. 293 witness;" "Behold, before God I lie not." The example in this case is considered sufficient to assure us of the law- fulness of this sort of appeal. 4. That the importance of truth to the purposes of jus- tice, warrants us in taking other measures for the prevention of perjury than are taken for the prevention of other crimes ; and specially, as this is a crime to the commission of which there may always exist peculiarly strong temptations. These are, I believe, the principal considerations which have been urged on both sides of the question. It seems to me to need a more thorough discussion than can be allowed to it in this place. One thing, however, seems evident, that the multiplication of oaths, demanded by the present practice of most Christian nations, is not only very wicked, but that its direct tendency is to diminish our rever- ence for the Deity ; and thus, in the end, to lead to the very evil which it is intended to prevent. III. Interpretation of oaths. As oaths are imposed for the safety of the party admin- istering them, they are to be interpreted as he understands them. The person under oath has no right to make any mental reservation, but to declare the truth, precisely in the manner that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, is expected of him. On no other principle would we ever know what to believe \)r to expect from a witness. If, for the sake of personal friendship, or personal advan- tage, or from fear of personal inconvenience, or from the excitement of party partiality, he shrink from declaring the whole truth, he is as truly guilty of perjury as though he swore falsely for money. IV. Different Jcinds of oaths. Oaths respect either the past or the future, that is, are either assertory or promissory. 1 . The oath respecting the past, is definite. A transac- tion either took place, or it did not take place, and we either have or have not some knowledge respecting it. It is, therefore, in our power either to tell what we know, or to tell what, and in how much, we do not know. This is the proper occasion for an oath. 2 The oath respecting the future is of necessity indefi- &>* 294 OF OATHS. nite, as when we promise upon oath to discharge, to the best of our ability, a particular office. Thus, the parties may have very different views of what is meant, by dis- charging an office according to the best of our ability ; or this obligation may conflict with others, such as domestic or personal obligations ; and the incumbent may not know, even with the best intentions, which obligation ought to take the precedence, that is, what is the best of his ability. Such being the case, who, that is aware of the frailty oi human nature, will dare to peril his eternal salvation upon the performance, to the best of his ability, of any official duty ? And, if these allowances be understood by both parties, how are they to be limited ; and, if they be not limited, what is the value of an oath ? Such being the case, it is, at best, doubtful, whether promissory oaths of office ought ever to be required. Much less ought they to be required, as is frequently the case, in the most petty details of official life. They must be a snare to the conscience of a thoughtful man ; and must tend to obliterate moral dis- tinctions from the mind of him who is, as is too frequently the case, unfortunately thoughtless. Why should one man, who is called upon to discharge the duties of a constable, or of an overseer of common schools, or even of a counsellor or a judge, be placed under the pains and perils of perjury , or under peril of his eternal salvation, any more than his neighbor, who discharges the duty of a merchant, of an in structor of youth, a physician, or a clergyman ? It seems to me that no man can take such an oath of office, upon reflection, without such mental reservation as must im- mediately convince him that the requirement is nugatory ; and, if so, that it must be injurious. CLASS SECOND. DUTIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OP THE SEXES. IT has already been remarked, that the very fact, that our Creator has constituted us with a capacity for a particular form of happiness, and has provided means for the gratifica- tion of that desire, is, in itself, an intimation that he intended that this desire should be gratified. But, as our happiness is the design of this constitution, it is equally evident, that he intended this desire to be gratified only in such manner as would conduce to this result ; and that, in estimating that result, we must take into view the whole nature of man, as a rational and accountable being, and not only man as an individual, but man also as a society. 1. The subject upon which we now enter, presents a striking illustration of the truth of these remarks. On the one hand, it is evident that the principle of sexual desire, is a part of the constitution of man. That it was intended to be gratified, is evident from the fact, that, without such gratification, the race of man would immediately cease to exist. Again, if it were not placed under restrictions, that is, were promiscuous intercourse permitted, the race would perish from neglect of offspring, and universal sterility. Thus, universal celibacy and unlimited indulgence, would both equally defeat the end of the Creator. It is, therefore, as evident that our Creator has imposed a limit to this de- sire, as a part of our constitution, as that he has implanted within us the desire itself. It is the object of the law of chastity to explain and enforce this limit. 2. As it is manifestly the object of the Creator, that the sexes should live together, and form a society with each other, in many respects dissimilar to every other society, producing new relations, and imposing new obligations, the 296 DUTIES WHICH ARISE, ETC. laws of this society need to be particularly explained. This is the law of marriage. 3. As the result of marriage is children, a new relation arises out of this connection, namely, the relation of parent and child. This imposes special obligations upon both parties, namely, the duties and rights of parents, and the duties and rights of children. This class of duties will, therefore, be treated of in the following order : Chapter 1. The general duty of chastity. " 2. The law of marriage. " 3. The rights and duties of parents. " 4. The rights and duties of children. 297 CHAPTER FIRST. THE GENERAL DUTY OP CHASTITY. THE sexual appetite being a part of 'our constitution, and a limit to the indulgence of it being fixed by the Creator, the business of moral philosophy is to ascertain this limit. The moral law on this subject is as follows : The duty of chastity limits the indulgence of this desire, to individuals who are exclusively united to each other for life. Hence it forbids, 1. Adultery, or intercourse between a married person and every other person except that person to whom he or she is united for life. 2. Polygamy, or a plurality of wives or of husbands. 3. Concubinage, or the temporary cohabitation of indi- viduals with each other. 4. Fornication, or intercourse with prostitutes, or with any individual under any other condition than that of the mar- riage covenant. 5. Inasmuch as unchaste desire is strongly excited by the imagination, the law of chastity forbids all impure thoughts and actions ; all unchaste conversation, looks, or gestures ; the reading of obscene or lascivious books, and every thing which would naturally produce in us a disposi- tion of mind to violate this precept. That the above is the law of God on this subject, is manifest, both from natural and from revealed religion. The law, as above recited, contains two restrictions : 1. That the individuals be exclusively united to each other; and, 2. That this exclusive union be for life. 298 THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. Let us examine the indications of natural religion upon both of these points. I. The indulgence of the desire referred to, is, by the law of God, restricted to individuals exclusively united to each other. This may be shown from several consider- ations. 1. The number of births, of both sexes, under all cir- cumstances, and in all ages, has been substantially equal. Now, if single individuals be not exclusively united to each other, there must arise an inequality of distribution, unless we adopt the law of promiscuous concubinage. But as the desire is universal, it cannot be intended that the dis- tribution should be unequal ; for thus, many would, from necessity, be left single. And the other alternative, pro- miscuous concubinage, would very soon lead, as we have already remarked, to the extinction of society. 2. The manifest design of nature is to increase the human species, in the most rapid ratio consistent with the conditions of our being. That is always the most happy condition of a nation, and that nation is most accurately obeying the laws of our constitution, in which the number of the human race is most rapidly increasing. Now it is certain, that, under the law of chastity, as it has been ex- plained, that is, where individuals are exclusively united to each other, the increase of population will be more rapid, than under any other circumstances. 3. That must be the true law of the domestic relations which will have the most beneficial effect upon the main tenance and education of children. Under the influence- of such a law as I have described, it is manifest, that chil- dren will be incomparably better provided for than under that of any other. The number of children produced by a single pair thus united, will ordinarily be as great as can be supported and instructed by two individuals. And, besides, the care of children, under these circumstances, oecomes a matter, not merely of duty, but of pleasure. On the contrary, just in so far as this law is violated, the love of offspring diminishes. The care of a family, instead of a pleasure, becomes an insupportable burden ; and, in the worst states of society, children either perish by multitudes THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 299 from neglect, or are murdered by their parents in infancy. The number of human beings who perish by infanticide, in heathen countries, is almost incredible. And in coun- tries not heathen, it is a matter of notoriety, that neglect of offspring is the universal result of licentiousness in parents. The support of foundlings, in some of the most licentious districts in Europe, has become so great a public burden as to give rise to serious apprehension. 4. There can be no doubt that man is intended to derive by far the greatest part of his happiness from society. And of social happiness, by far the greatest, the most ex- quisite, and the most elevating portion, is that derived from the domestic relations ; not only those of husband and wife, but those of parent and child, of brother and sister, and those arising from the more distant gradations of collateral kindred. Now, human happiness, in this respect, can exist only in proportion to our obedience to the law of chastity. What domestic happiness can be expected in a house con- tinually agitated by the ceaseless jealousy of several wives, and the interminable quarrels of their several broods of children ? How can filial love dwell in the bosoms of chil- dren, the progeny of one father by several concubines? This state of society existed under the most favorable cir- cumstances, in the patriarchal age ; and its results even here are sufficiently deplorable. No one can read the his- tories of the families of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and David, without becoming convinced that no deviation can be made from the gospel law of marriage, without creating a tendency to wrangling without end, to bitterness and strife, nay, to incest and murder. And if this be the result of polygamy and concubinage, in what language is it pos- sible to describe the effects of universal licentiousness ? By this, the very idea of home would be abolished. The name of parent would signify no more in man than in the brutes. Man, instead of being social, would become nothing more than a gregarious animal, distinguished from his fellow- animals by nothing else than greater intellectual capacity, and the more disgusting abuse of it. 5. No reason can be assigned, why the intellectual, moral and social happiness of the one sex is not as valu- 300 THE GENERAL DUTY OP CHASTITY. able, in the sight of the Creator, as that of the. other Much less can any reason be assigned, why the one sex should be to the other merely a source of sensual gratifica- tion. But, just as we depart from the law of chastity, as it has been here explained, woman ceases to be the equal and the companion of man, and becomes either his timid and much abused slave, or else the mere instrument for the gratification of his lust. No one can pretend to believe that the Creator ever intended that one human being should stand in such a relation as this to any other human being. II. The second part of the law of chastity requires that this union should be for life. Some of the reasons for this are as follows : 1. In order to domestic happiness, it is necessary that both parties should cultivate a spirit of conciliation and for- bearance, and mutually endeavor to conform their indi- vidual peculiarities to each other. Unless this be done, instead of a community of interests, there will arise inces- sant collision. Now, nothing can tend more directly to the cultivation of a proper temper, than the consideration that this union is indissoluble. A mere temporary union, liable to be dissolved by every ebullition of passion, would foster every impetuous and selfish feeling of the human heart. 2. If the union be not for life, there is no other limit to be fixed to its continuance than the will of either party. This would speedily lead to promiscuous concubinage, and all the evils resulting from it, of which I have already spoken. 3. Children require the care of both parents until they have attained to maturity; that is, generally, during the greater art of the lifetime of their parents, at least, during all that period of their life in which they would be most likely to desire a separation. Besides, the children are the joint property of both parents ; and, if the domestic society be dissolved, they belong to one no more than to the other ; that is, they have no protector, but are cast out defenceless upon the world. 4. Or, if thys be not the case, and they are protected by one parent, they must suffer an irreparable loss by the THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 301 witlidrawment of the other parent from his or her share of the parental responsibility, in general, the care would fall upon the mother, whose parental instincts are the stronger, but who is, from her peculiar situation, the less able to protect them. The whole tendency of every licentious system is, to take advantage of the parental tenderness of the mother ; and, because she would rather die than leave her children to perish, basely to devolve upon her a burden which she is wholly unable to sustain. 5. Parents themselves, in advanced years, need the care of their children, and become dependent, in a great measure, for their happiness upon them. But all this source of happiness is dried up by any system which allows of the disruption of the domestic society, and the desertion of offspring, simply at the will of the parent. The above considerations may perhaps be deemed suffi- cient to establish the general law, and to show what is the will of the Creator on this subject. But it may be suggest- ed, that all these consequences need not follow occasional aberrations, and that individual cases of licentious indul- gence should be exempted from the general rule. To this I answer, 1. The severity of the punishment which God has affixed to the crime in general, shows how severe is his displeasure against it. God is no respecter of persons, but he will visit upon every one the strict reward of his iniquity. And he does thus act. In woman, this vice is immediately fatal to character ; and in man, it leads directly to those crimes which are the sure precursors of temporal and eternal per- dition. 2. The God who made us all, and who is the Father and the Judge of his creatures, is omniscient ; and he will bring every secret thing into judgment. Let the seducer and the profligate remember that each must stand, with his victim and his partner in guilt, before the Judge of quick and dead, where a recompense will be rendered to every man according to his deeds. 3. Let it be remembered that a female is a moral and accountable being, hastening with us to the bar of God ; that she is made to be the centre of all that is delightful 26 302 THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. in the domestic relations ; that, by her very nature, she looks up to man as her protector, and loves to confide in his hands her happiness for life ; and that she can be ruined only by abusing that confidence, proving false to that re- liance, and using the very loveliest trait in her character as the instrument of her undoing. And then let us consider the misery into which a loss of virtue must plunge the victim and her friends for ever ; the worth of that soul, which, unless a miracle interpose, must, by the loss of virtue, be consigned to eternal despair ; and I ask whether, in the whole catalogue of human crime, there be one whose atrocity more justly merits the deepest damnation, than that which, for the momentary gratification of a lawless appetite, will violate all these obligations, outrage all these sympathies, and work out so wide-spreading, so intermi- nable a ruin ? Such is the lesson of natural religion on this subject. III. The precepts of revealed religion may be very briefly stated : 1. The seventh commandment is, " Thou shalt not com- mit adultery." Ex. xx, 14. By the term adultery, is meant every unlawful act and thought. The Mosaic law enacted that he who seduced a woman should marry her jEr. xxii, 16, 17. This is, doubtless, the equitable rule ; and there is no reason why it should not be strictly enforced now, both by the civil law and by the opinions of the com- munity. 2. The punishment of adultery was, under the same law, death to both parties. Lev. x, 22. Deut. xxii, 22. That this should now be enforced, no one will contend. But it is sufficient to show in what abhorrence the crime is held by the Creator. 3. The consequences of whoredom and adultery are frequently set forth in the prophets, and the most awful judgments of God are denounced against them. This subject is also treated with graphic power by Solomon, in the book of Proverbs. See Proverbs v, 3 29 ; vii, 5 26. 4. Our Savior explains the law of chastity and mar- riage in his sermon on the mount, and declares it equally to respect unclean thoughts and actions : " Ye have heard THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. 303 that it hath been said by them of old time, thou shalt not commit adultery. But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart. And if thy right eye offend thee (or cause thee to offend), pluck it out and cast it from thee ; for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell." Matt, v, 27 32. That is, as I suppose, eradicate from your bosom every impure thought, no matter at what sacrifice ; for no one who cherishes impurity, even in thought, can be an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. Uncleanness is also frequently enumerated among the crimes which exclude men from the kingdom of heaven : Ephesians v, 5, 6 : " No whoremonger or unclean person hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God." Galatians v, 19 21 : " Now, the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these : adultery, fornication, un- cleanness, lasciviousness ; of the which I tell you before, as I have told you in times past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God." Colossians iii, 5, 6 : " Mortify, therefore, your members, which are upon the earth : fornication, uncleanness, inor- dinate affections ; for which things' sake, the wrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience." Let every one remember, therefore, that whoever vio- lates this command, violates it in defiance of the most clearly revealed command of God, and at the peril of his own soul. He must meet his act, and the consequences of it, at that day when the secrets of all hearts are made manifest, when every hidden thing will be brought to light, and when God will judge every man according to his deeds. I remarked above, that the law of chastity forbade the indulgence of impure or lascivious imaginations, the har- boring of such thoughts in our minds, or the doing of any thing by which such thoughts should be excited. Of no vice is it so true as of this, that " lust, when it is cherished, bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth 304 THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY. forth death." Licentiousness in outward conduct never appears, until the mind has become defiled by impure imaginations. When, however, the mind has become thus defiled, nothing is wanted but suitable opportunity to com- plete the moral catastrophe. Hence, the necessity of the most intense vigilance in the government of our thoughts, and in the avoiding of all books, and all pictures, and all society, and all conduct and actions of which the tendency is to imbue our imaginations with any thing at variance with the purest chastity. Whatever, in other respects, may be the fascinations of a book, if it be impure or las- civious, let it be eschewed. Whatever be the accomplish- ments of an acquaintance, if he or she be licentious in con- versation or action, let him or her be shunned. No man can take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned. We cannot mingle with the vile, let that vileness be dressed in ever so tasteful a garb, without becoming defiled. The only rule of safety is, to avoid the appearance of eml; for thus alone shall we be able to avoid the reality. Hence it is, that a licentious theatre (and the tendency of all theatres is to licentiousness), immodest dancing, and all amusements and actions which tend to inflame the passions, are horribly pernicious to morals. It would be interesting to learn on what principle of morals a virtuous woman would justify her attendance upon an amusement, in which she beholds before her a once lovely female uttering covert obscenity in the presence of thousands, and where she is surrounded by hundreds of women, also once lovely, but now abandoned, whose ruin has been consummated by this very means, and who assemble in this place, with the more certain assurance of thus being able, most success- fully, to effect the ruin of others. 305 CHAPTER SECOND. THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. IT has been already remarked, in the preceding section, that the law of chastity forbids all sexual intercourse be- tween persons who have not been exclusively united for life. In the act of marriage, two persons, under the most solemn circumstances, are thus united ; and they enter into a mutual contract thus to live in respect to each other. This relation having been established by God, the contract thus entered into has all the solemnity of an oath. Hence he who violates it is guilty of a two-fold crime : first, the violation of the law of chastity ; and, secondly, of the law of veracity, a veracity pledged under the most solemn circumstances. But this is by no means all that is intended by the in- stitution of marriage. By the contract thus entered into, a society is formed, of a most interesting and important character, which is the origin of all civil society ; and in which, children are prepared to become members of that great community. As our principal knowledge of the nature and obligations of this institution is derived from the sacred Scriptures, I shall endeavor briefly to explain the manner in which they treat of it, without adding any thing to what I have already said, in regard to the teaching of natural religion. I shall consider, first, the nature of this contract, and, secondly, the duties which it enjoins, and the crimes which it forbids. First. The nature of the contract. 1. The contract is for life, and is dissoluble for one cause only, the cause of whoredom : Matthew xix, 3 6, 9. "Then came some of die Pharisees to him, and, tempting him, asked, Can a man, Qfi* 306 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. upon every pretence, divorce his wife? He answered, Have ye not read, that at the beginning, when the Crea- tor made man, he formed a male and female ; and said, for this cause shall a man leave father and mother, aiJ adhere to his wife ; and they two shall be one flesh. Wherefore, they are no longer two, but one flesh. What then God hath conjoined, let not man separate. Wherefore, I say unto you, whosoever divorceth his wife, except for whoredom, and marrieth another, committeth adultery." I use here the translation of Dr. Campbell, which, I think, conveys more exactly than the common version the mean- ing of the original. 2. We are here taught that marriage, being an institu- tion of God, is subject to his laws alone, and not to the laws of man. Hence the civil law is binding upon the conscience only in so far as it corresponds to the law of God. 3. This contract is essentially mutual. By entering Into it, the members form a society, that is, they have some- thing in common. Whatever is thus in common, belongs equally to both. And, on the contrary, what is not thus surrendered, remains as before in the power of the indi- vidual. 4. The basis of this union is affection. Individuals thus contract themselves to each other, on the ground not merely of mutual regard, but also of a regard stronger than that which they entertain for any other persons else. If such be not the condition of the parties, they cannot be united with any fair prospect of happiness. Now, such is the nature of the human affections, that we derive a higher and a purer pleasure from rendering happy those whom we love than from self-gratification. Thus, a parent prefers self- denial, for the sake of a child, to self-indulgence. The same principle is illustrated in every case of pure and dis- interested benevolence. This is the essential element, on which depends the happiness of the married state. To be in the highest degree happy, we must each prefer the hap- piness of another to our own. 5. I have mentioned above, that, this being a voluntary compact, and forming a peculiar society, there are some THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 307 things which, by this compact, each surrenders to the o'Vr, and also other things which are not surrendered. It is im- portant that these be distinguished from each other. I remark, then, a. Neither party surrenders to the other any control over any thing appertaining to the conscience. From the nature of our moral constitution, nothing of this sort can be surren- dered to any created being. For either party to interfere with the discharge of those duties, which the other party really supposes itself to owe to God, is therefore wicked and oppressive. b. Neither party surrenders to the other any thing which would violate prior and lawful obligations. Thus, a hus- band does not promise to subject his professional pursuits to the will of his wife. He has chosen his profession, and, if he pursue it lawfully, it does not interfere with the con- tract. So, also, his duties as a citizen, are of prior obliga- tion ; and, if they really interfere with any others, those subsequently formed must be construed in subjection to them. Thus, also, the filial duties of both parties remain, in some respects, unchanged after marriage, and the marriage contract should not be so interpreted as to violate them. c. On the other hand, I suppose that the marriage contract binds each party, whenever individual gratification is con- cerned, to prefer the happiness of the other party to its own. If pleasure can be enjoyed by both, the happiness of both is increased by enjoying it in common. If it can be enjoyed but by one, each should prefer that it be enjoyed by the other. And if there be sorrow to be endured, or inconvenience to be suffered, each should desire, if possible, to bear the infliction for the sake of shielding the other from pain. d. And, as I have remarked before, the disposition to do this arises from the very nature of the principles on which the compact is formed, from unreserved affection. This is the very manner in which affection always displays itself. This is the very means by which affection is created. " She loved me for the dangers I had seen, and I loved her that she did pity them." SHAKSPEARE. And this is 308 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. the only course of conduct by which affection can be re- tained. And the manifestation of this temper is, under all circumstances, obligatory upon both parties. 6. As, however, in all societies, there may be differences of opinion, even where the harmony of feeling remains un- impaired, so there may be differences here. Where such differences of opinion exist, there must be some ultimate appeal. In ordinary societies, such questions are settled by a numerical majority. But as, in this case, such a decis- ion is impossible, some other principle must be adopted. The right of deciding must rest with either the one or the other. As the husband is the individual who is responsible to civil society, as his intercourse with the world is of necessity greater, the voice of nature and of revelation unite in conferring the right of ultimate authority upon him. By this arrangement the happiness of the wife is increased no less than that of the husband. Her power is always greatest in concession. She is graceful and attractive while meek and gentle ; but when angered and turbulent, she loses the fascination of her own sex, without attaining to the dignity of the other. " A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, and bereft of beauty." SHAKS. Secondly. I come now to speak of the duties imposed by the marriage relation. I. The marriage relation imposes upon both parties, equally, the duty of chastity. 1. Hence it forbids adultery, or intercourse with any other person than that one to whom the individual is united in marriage. 2. And, hence, it forbids all conduct in married persons, or with married persons, of which the tendency would be to diminish their affection for those to whom they are united in marriage, or of which the tendency would be to give pain to the other party. This is evident from what we have before said. For, if the contract itself proceed upon the principle of entire and exclusive affection, any thing must be a violation of it, which destroys or lessens that affection ; and that which causes this affection to be doubted, THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 309 produces to the party in which the doubt exists, the same misery that would ensue from actual injury. The crime of adultery is of an exceedingly aggravated nature. As has been before remarked, aside from being a violation of the law of chastity, it is also a violation of a most solemn contract. The misery which it inflicts upon parents and children, relatives and friends, the total anni- hilation of domestic happiness, and the total disruption of parental and filial ties which it necessarily produces, mark it for one of the basest forms of human atrocity. Hence, as might be expected, it is spoken of in the Scriptures as one of those crimes on which God has set the seal of his peculiar displeasure. In addition to the passages already quoted on this subject, I barely mention the following : Matthew v, 28. " Whosoever looketh on a woman to cherish impure desire, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." Hebrews xiii, 4. "Marriage is honorable in all, and the bed undefiled ; but whoremongers and adulterers God will judge." Revelations xxi, 8. " Murderers and the lascivious shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second death." Throughout the writings of the prophets, in numberless instances, this crime is singled out, as one for which God visits with the most awful judgments, both nations and individuals. And, if any one will reflect that the happiness and prosperity of a country must depend on the virtue of the domestic society more than on any thing else, he cannot fail to perceive that a crime, which, by a single act, sunders the conjugal tie, and leaves children worse than parentless, must be attended with more abun- dant and remediless evils, than almost any other that can be named. The taking of human life can be attended with no consequences more dreadful. In the one case, the parental tie is broken, but the victim is innocent ; in the other, the tie is broken, with the additional aggravation of an irretrievable moral stain, and a wide-spreading dishonor that cannot be washed away. II. The law of marriage enforces the duty of mutual affection. Affection towards another is the result of his or her actions 310 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. and temper towards us. Admiration and respect may be the result of other manifestations of character, but nothing is so likely, as evidence of affection towards ourselves, to produce in us affection towards others. Hence the duty of cultivating affection, imposes upon each party the obligation to act in such manner as to excite affection in the bosom of the other. The rule is, " As ye would that others should do unto (or be affected towards) you, do ye even so unto (or be ye so affected towards) them." And the other gospel rule is here also verified : " Give, and it shall be given unto you, good measure, pressed down, and heaped together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom." To cultivate affection, then, is not to strive to excite it by any direct effort of abstract thinking, but to show, by the whole tenor of a life of disinterested goodness, that our happiness is really promoted by seeking the hap- piness of another. It consists in restraining our passions, in subduing our selfishness, in quieting our irritability, in erad- icating from our minds every thing which could give pain to an ingenuous spirit, and in cherishing a spirit of meekness, forbearance, forgiveness, and of active, cheerful, and inces- sant desire for the happiness of those whom we love. At no less price than this can affection be purchased ; and those who are willing to purchase it at this price, will rarely have reason to complain of the want of it. III. The law of marriage imposes the duty of mutual assistance. In the domestic society, as in every other, there are special duties devolving upon each member ; this is no more than to say that it is not the duty of every member of a society to do every thing. So here, there are duties devolving of right upon the husband, and other duties de- volving of right upon the wife. Thus, it is the duty, in the first instance, of the husband, to provide for the wants of the family ; and of the wife to assume the charge of the affairs of the household. His sphere of duty is without, her sphere of duty is within. Both are under obligation to discharge these duties, specially because they are parties to this par- ticular compact. The Apostle Paul affirms, that he who does not provide for his own, specially for those of his own THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 311 house, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel. That man is worthily despised, who does not qualify himself to support that family, of which he has voluntarily assumed the office of protector. Nor surely is that woman less de- serving of contempt, who, having consumed the period of youth in frivolous reading, dissipating amusement, and in the acquisition of accomplishments, which are to be con- signed, immediately after marriage, to entire forge tfu In ess, enters upon the (duties of a wife, with no other expectation, than that of being a useless and prodigal appendage to a household, ignorant of her duties, and of the manner of discharging them ; and with no other conceptions of the responsibilities which she has assumed, than such as have been acquired from a life of childish caprice, luxurious self- indulgence, and sensitive, feminine, yet thoroughly finished selfishness. And yet I fear that thfy system of -.femalfi edu- cation, at present in vo^ue, is, in many respects, liable to the accusation of producing precisely this tendency. I have remarked, that the duties of the husband and wife are thus, in the first instance, apportioned. Yet, if one be disabled, all that portion of the duty of the disabled party, which the other can discharge, falls upon that other. If the husband cannot alone support the family, it is the duty of the wife to assist him. If the wife is, through sickness, unable to direct her household, the husband is bound, in so far as it is possible, to assume her care. In case of the death of either, the whole care of the children devolves upon the survivor ; nor has the survivor a right to devolve it upon another person, if he or she can discharge it alone. ( IV. The law of marriage, both from Scripture and from reason, makes the husband the head of the domestic so- ciety. Hence, when difference of opinion exists (except as stated above, where a paramount obligation binds), the decision of the husband is ultimate. Hence the duty of the wife is submission and obedience. The husband, how- ever, has no more right than the wife to act unjustly, op- pressively, or unkindly ; nor is the fact of his possessing authority in the least an excuse for so acting. But as differences of opinion are always liable to exist, and as, in 312 THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. such case, one or the other party must yield, to avoid the greatest of all evils in such a society, continual dissension, the duty of yielding devolves upon the wife. And it is to be remembered, that the act of submission is, in every respect, as dignified and as lovely as the act of authority ; nay, more, it involves an element of virtue which does not belong to the other. It supposes neither superior excel- lence nor superior mind in the party which governs ; but merely an official relation, held for the mutual good of both parties and of their children. The teaching* of Scripture on this subject is explicit ; see 1 Peter iii, 1 7 : " Like- wise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands, that if any obey not the word, they also may, without the word, be won by the conversation of the wives ; while they behold your chaste conversation united with respect. Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, and of putting on of ap- parel ; but let it be the inward disposition of the mind, which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of God, of great price. Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with your wives according to knowledge, as with the weaker party ; rendering respect to them, as heirs with you of the grace of life." That is, if 1 understand the passage, conduct towards them, as knowing that they are weak ; that is, needing support and protec- tion ; and, at the same time, rendering them all that respect which is due to those who are, as much as yourselves, heirs to a blessed immortality. A more beautiful exhibition of the duties of the marriage relation cannot be imagined. I shall close this chapter with the following well known extract from a poet, whose purity of character and exquisite sensibility have done more than any other in our language, to clothe virtue in her own native attractiveness : Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of Paradise, that has survived the fall ! Though few now taste thee unimpaired and pure, Or, tasting, long enjoy thee ! too infirm, Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets Unmixed with drops of bitter, which neglect Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup : Thou art the nurse of rirtue ; in thine arms THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 313 She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again. Thou art not known where pleasure is adored, That reeling goddess, with her zoneless waist And wandering eyes, still leaning on the arm Of novelty, her fickle, frail support; For thou art meek and constant, hating change, And finding in the calm of truth-tried lov?, Joys which her stormy rapture never yields. Forsaking thee, what shipwreck have we seen, Of honor, dignity, and fair renown! 'Till prostitution elbows us aside In all our crowded streets. Task. 314 CHAPTER THIRD. THE LAW OF PARENTS. THE adaptation of the physical and moral laws under which man is placed, to the promotion of human happiness, is beautifully illustrated in the relation which exists between the law of marriage and the law of parent and child. Were the physical or moral conditions of marriage different in any respect from those which exist, the evils which would ensue would be innumerable. And, on the contrary, by accurately observing these conditions, we shall see that they not only contain a provision for the well-being of suc- cessive generations, but also establish a tendency to in- definite social progress. For instance, we see that mankind are incapable of sus- taining the relation of parent until they have arrived at the age of maturity, attained to considerable knowledge and experience, and become capable of such labor as will en- able them to support and protect their offspring. Were this otherwise, were children liable to become parents- parent and child growing up together in physical and intel- lectual imbecility the progress of man in virtue and knowl- edge would be impossible, even if the whole race did not perish from want and disease. Again, the parent is endowed with a love of his offspring, which renders it a pleasure to him to contribute to its wel- fare, and to give it, by every means in his power, the ben- efit of his own experience. And, on the contrary, there is in the child, if not a correspondent love of the parent, a disposition to submit to the parent's wishes, and to yield (unless its instincts have been mismanaged) to his authority. Were either of these dispositions wanting, it is evident that vhe whole social system would be disarranged, and incalcu- laKe misery entailed upon our race. THE LAW OF PARENTS. 315 Again, it is evident that civil society is constituted by the surrender of the individual's personal desires and pro- pensities to the good of the whole. It of course involves the necessity of self-restraint that is, of habitual self-gov- ernment. Now, in this point of view, the domestic society is designed to be, as has been frequently remarked, the nursery for the state. Thus, the parent being of an age and having experience sufficient to control and direct the child, and being instinc- tively impelled to exert this control for the child's benefit ; and the child being instinctively disposed to yield to his authority, when judiciously exerted ; the child grows up under a system in which he yields to the will of another, and thus he learns at home to submit to the laws of that society of which he is soon to become a member. And hence it is that the relaxation of parental authority has always been found one of the surest indications of the de- cline of social order, and the unfailing precursor of public turbulence and anarchy. But still more, it is a common remark, that children are influenced by example more readily than by any other means. Now, by the marriage constitution, this principle of human nature is employed as an instrument of the great- est possible good. We stated that the basis of the mar- riage covenant is affection, and that it supposes each party to prefer the happiness of the other to its own. While the domestic society is governed by this principle, it presents to the children a continual example of disinterestedness and self-denial, and of the happiness which results from the exercise of these virtues. And yet more, the affection of the parents prompts them to the exercise of the same virtues in behalf of their children ; and, hence, the latter have before their eyes a constantly operating motive to the culti- vation of these very dispositions. And, lastly, as the duty of the wife is submission, children are thus taught, by the example of one whom they respect and love, that submis- sion is both graceful and dignified ; and that it in no man- ner involves the idea of baseness or servility. 1. From these considerations, we learn the relation which exists, by nature, between parents and children. It 316 THE LAW OF PARENTS. is the relation of a superior to an inferior. The right of the parent is to command ; the duty of the child is to obey Authority belongs to the one, submission to the other. This relation is a part of our constitution, and the obligation which arises from it is, accordingly, a part of our duty. It is not a mere matter of convenience or of expediency, but it belongs to the relations under which we are created ; and to the violation of it, our Creator has affixed peculiar and afflicting penalties. 2. While this is the relation, yet the motive which should govern the obligation, on both sides, is affection . While the authority to command rests with the parent, and the duty of submission is imposed upon the child, yet the parent is not at liberty to exercise this authority from caprice, or from love of power, or for his own advantage, but from simple love to the child, and for the child's advantage. The constitution under which we are placed, renders it ne- cessary that the parent should exercise this power ; but that parent abuses it, that is, he uses it for purposes for which it was not conferred, if he exercise it from any other motive than duty to God, and love to his offspring. 3. This relation being established by our Creator, and the obligations consequent upon it being binding upon both parties, the failure in one party does not annihilate the ob- ligations of the other. If a child be disobedient, the parent is still under obligation to act towards it for its own good, and not to exert his authority for any other purpose. If a parent be unreasonable, this does not release the child ; he is still bound to honor, and obey, and reverence his parent. The duty of parents is, then, generally, to educate, or to bring up, their children in such a manner as they believe will be most for their future happiness, both temporal and eternal. This comprehends several particulars : I. SUPPORT, OR MAINTENANCE. That it is the duty of the parents to keep alive the help- less being whom they have brought into existence, need not be provea. As to the expensiveness of this maintenance, I do not know that any thing very definite can be asserted. The general rule would seem to be, that the mode of life THE LAW OF PARENTS. 317 adopted by the parent, would be tbat which he is required to provide for the child. This, however, would be modified by some circumstances. If a parent of large wealth brought up his family in meanness and ignorance, so that they would be , specially unfitted for the opulence which they were hereafter to enjoy, he would act unjustly. He is voluntarily placing them in circumstances of great temptation. So, on the other hand, if a parent, destitute of means to render his children independent of labor, brings them up, whether male or female, in idleness and expensiveness, he violates his duty as a parent ; he is preparing them for a life, not of happiness, but of discontent, imbecility and misery. The latter, owing to the natural weakness of parental affection, is, by far, the most common error, and is liable to become peculiarly prevalent in the social condition of this country. II. EDUCATION. 1. Physical education. A parent is under obligation to use all the means in his power to secure to his children a good physical constitution. It is his duty to prescribe such food, and in such quantity, as will best conduce to their health ; to regulate their labor and exercise, so as fully to develop all the powers, and call into exercise all the functions, of their physical system ; to accustom them to hardship, and render them patient of labor. Every one knows how greatly the happiness of a human being depends upon early physical discipline ; and it is manifest that this discipline can be enforced by no one but a parent, or by one who stands in the place of a parent. By the same rule, we see the wickedness of those parents who employ their children in such service, or oblige them to labor in such manner, as will expose them to sickness, infirmity, disease, and premature death. In many manu- facturing countries, children are forced to labor before they are able to endure confinement and fatigue, or to labor vastly beyond their strength ; so that the vigor of their constitution is destroyed even in infancy. The power of the parent over the child, was given for the child's good, and neither to gratify the parent's selfishness, nor to minister to his love of gain. It is not improper to add, that the guilt and the shame of this abuse of the rights of children, are equally 27* 318 THE LAW OF PARENTS. shared between the parent who thus sells his child's health and life for gold, and the heartless agent who thus profits by his wickedness. Nor is this form of violation of parental obligation confined to any one class of society. The am- bitious mother, who, for the sake of her own elevation, or the aggrandizement of her family, and without any respect to the happiness of her child, educates her daughter in all the trickery of fashionable fascination, dwarfing her mind, and sensualizing her aspirations, for the chance of negotiating for her a profitable match, regardless of the character or habits of him to whom she is to be united for life, falls under precisely the same condemnation. 2. Intellectual education. A child enters into the world utterly ignorant, and possessed of nothing else than a col- lection of impulses and capabilities. It can be happy and useful only as this ignorance is dispelled by education, and these impulses and capabilities are directed and enlarged foy discipline and cultivation. To some knowledge arid .discipline the parent has, from the necessity of the case, attained ; and, at least, so much as this he is bound to com- municate to his children. In some respects, however, this duty can be discharged more effectively by others than by the parent ; and it may, therefore, very properly, be thus devolved upon a teacher. The parental obligation re- quires that it be done either by a parent himself, or that he procure it to be done by another. I have said that it can, in part., be discharged by the teacher. But, let it be remembered, it can be done only in part. The teacher is only the agent ; the parent is the principal. The teacher does not remove from the parent any of the responsibility of his relation. Several duties devolve upon the one, which cannot be rightfully devolved upon the other. For instance, 1. He is bound to inform himself of the peculiar habits, and reflect upon the probable future situation, of his child, and deliberately to consider what sort of education will most conduce to his future happiness and usefulness. 2. He is bound to select such instructors as will best accom- plish the results which he believes will be most beneficial. THE LAW OF PARENTS. 319 3. He is bound to devote such time and attention to the subject, as will enable him to ascertain whether the in- structor of his child discharges his duty with faithfulness. 4. To encourage his child, by manifesting such interest in his studies as shall give to diligence and assiduity all the assistance and benefit of parental authority and friendship. 5. And, if a parent be under obligation to do this, he is, of course, under obligation to take time to do it, and so to construct the arrangements of his family and business, that it may be done. He has no right to say that he has no time for these duties. If God have required them of him, as is the fact, he has time exactly for them; and the truth is, he has not time for those other occupations which inter- fere with them. If he neglect them, he does it to the in- jury of his children, and, as he will ascertain when it shall be too late, to his own disappointment and misery. Nor let it be supposed that this will ever be done with- out bringing with it its own reward. God has always con- nected together, indissolubly, our own personal benefit and the discharge of every duty. Thus, in the present case, a parent who assiduously follows his children throughout the various steps of their education, will find his own knowl- edge increased, and his own education carried forward, vastly beyond what he would at first have conceived. There are very few things which a child ought to learn, from the study of which an adult will not derive great advantage, especially if he go through the process of sim- plification and analysis, which are so necessary in order to communicate knowledge to the mind of the young. And yet more. It is only thus that the parent will be able to retain that intellectual superiority which it is so much for the interest of both parties that he should, for a long time, at least, possess. It is an unfortunate circumstance, for a child to suppose that he knows more than his parent ; and, if his supposition be true, he will not be slow to entertain it. The longer the parent maintain his superiority in Knowledge and wisdom, the better will it be for both parties. But this superiority cannot be retained, if, as soon as the parent enters upon active business, he desist from all effort after intellectual cultivation, and surrenders himself a slave 320 THE LAW OF PARENTS. to physical labor, while he devotes his child to mere intel- lectual cultivation, and thus renders intellectual intercourse between himself and his children almost impossible. 3. Moral education. The eternal destiny of the child is placed, in a most important sense, in the hands of its parents. The parent is under obligation to instruct, and cause his child to be instructed, in those religious sentiments which he believes to be according to the will of God. With his duty in this respect, until the child becomes able to decide for himself, no one has a right to interfere. If the parent be in error, the fault is not in teaching the child what he believes, but in believing what is false, without having used the means; which God has given him to arrive at the truth. But, if such be the responsibility, and so exclusive the authority of the parent, it is manifest that he is under a double obli- gation to ascertain what is the will of God, and in what manner the future happiness of an immortal soul may be secured. As soon as he becomes a parent, his decisions on this subject involve the future happiness or misery, not only of his own soul, but also of that of another. Both con- siderations, therefore, impose upon him the obligation of coming to a serious and solemn decision upon his moral condition and prospects. But, besides that of making himself acquainted with the doctrines of religion, the relation in which he stands im- poses upon the parent several other duties. It is his duty, 1. To teach his child its duties to God and to man, and produce in its mind a permanent conviction of its moral responsibility. This is to be done, not merely by direct, but also by indirect, precept ; and by directing it to such trains of observation and reflection as shall create a correct moral estimate of actions and of their consequences. And specially should it be the constant effort of the parent to cultivate in his child a spirit of piety, or a right feeling towards God, the true source of eveiy other virtue. 2. Inasmuch as the present state of man is morally im- perfect, and every individual is a sharer in that imperfec- tion, it is the duty of the parent to eradicate, so far as is in THE LAW OF PARENTS. 321 his power, the wrong propensities of his children. He should watch, with ceaseless vigilance, for the first appear- ances of pride, obstinacy, malice, envy, vanity, cruelty, revenge, anger, lying, and their kindred vices ; and, by steadfast and unwearied assiduity, strive to extirpate them before they have gained firmness by age, or vigor by in- dulgence. There cannot be a greater unkindness to a child, than to allow it to grow up with any of its evil habits uncorrected. Every one would consider a parent cruel, who allowed a child to grow up without having taken means to cure a limb which had been broken ; but how much worse is an evil temper than a broken limb ! 3. Inasmuch as precept will be of no avail without a correspondent example, a parent is under obligation, not only to set no example by which the evil dispositions of his child will be cherished, but to set such an example as will be most likely to remove them. A passionate, selfish, envious man must expect that, in spite of all his precepts, his children will be passionate, envious, and selfish. 4. Inasmuch as all our efforts will be fruitless without the blessing of God, that parent must be convicted of great neglect of duty, who does not habitually pray for that direction which he needs in the performance of these solemn obligations ; as well as for that blessing upon his efforts, without which, though ever so well directed, they will be utterly in vain. 5. Inasmuch as the moral character of the child is greatly influenced by its associations and companions, it is the duty of the parent to watch over these with vigi- lance, and to control them with entire independence. He is false to his trust, if, for the sake of gratifying the desires of his child, or of conciliating the favor of others, or avoiding the reputation of singularity or preciseness, he allow his child to form associations which he believes, or even fears, will be injurious to him. And, on the other hand, if such be the duty of the parent, he ought to be con- sidered as fully at liberty to perform it, without remark, and without offence. In such matters, he is the ultimate and the only responsible authority. He who reproaches another for THE LAW OF PARENTS. the exercise of this authority, is guilty of slander. He who, from the fear of slander, shrinks from exercising it, is justly chargeable with a pusillanimity wholly unworthy of the rela- tion which he sustains. 6. As the parent sustains the same relation to all his children, it is manifest that his obligations to them all are the same. Hence, he is bound to exercise his authority with entire impartiality. The want of this must always end in jealousy, envy, and malice, and cannot fail to render the domestic society a scene of perpetual bickering and contention. A striking exemplification of all this is recorded in the history of Joseph and his brethren. If this be so, it is evident that the violation of parental obligation is more common, among even indulgent parents, than would generally be supposed. 1. Parents who render themselves slaves to fashiona- ble society and amusement, violate this obligation. The mother who is engaged in a perpetual round of visiting and company, and who, from the pressure of engagements to which she subjects herself, has no leisure to devote to the mental and moral culture of her children, violates her most solemn duties. She has no right to squander away, in frivolous self-gratification, the time which belongs to hei offspring. She will reap the fruits of her folly, when, in a few years, her children, having grown up estranged from her affection, shall thwart her wishes, disappoint her hopes, and neglect, if they do not despise, the mother who bare them. 2. The father who plunges into business so deeply that he has no leisure for domestic duties and pleasures, and whose only intercourse with his children consists in a brief and occasional word of authority, or a surly lamentation over their intolerable expensiveness, is equally to be pitied and to be blamed. What right has he to devote to other pursuits the time which God has allotted to his children ? Nor is it any excuse, to say that he cannot support his family in their present style of living, without this effort. I ask, By what right can his family demand to live in a man- ner which requires him to neglect his, most solemn and important duties? Nor is it an excuse, to say that he THE LAW OF PARENTS. 323 wishes to leave them a competence. Is he under obligation to leave them that competence which he desires ? Is it an advantage to them to be relieved from the necessity of labor? Besides, is money the only desirable bequest which a father can leave to his children? Surely, well cultivated intellects, hearts sensible to domestic affection, the love of parents and brethren and sisters, a taste for home pleasures, habits of order, regularity and industry, a hatred of vice and of vicious men, and a lively sensibility to the excellence of virtue, are as valuable a legacy as an inheritance of property, simple property, purchased by the loss of every habit which could render that property a blessing. 3. Nor can thoughtful men be always exculpated from the charge of this violation. The duties of a parent are established by God, and God requires us not to violate them. While the social worship of God is a duty, it ought not to interfere with parental duty. Parents who spend that time which belongs to their children, in offices of public social worship, have mistaken the nature of their special obligation. I do not pretend to say what time, or how much time, any individual shall spend in any religious service. This question does not belong to the present dis- cussion. But I say that this time must be taken out of that which belongs to ourselves ; and it might easily be abstracted from that devoted to visiting, company, or idleness ; it should not be taken from that which belongs, by the ordinance of God, to our children. It will be easily seen, that the fulfilment of these obliga- tions, in the manner I have suggested, would work a very perceptible change in the whole fabric of society. It would check the eager desire of accumulation, repress the ardor of ambition, and allay the feverish thirst for selfish gratifica- tion. But it would render a family, in truth, a society. It would bring back parents and children to the relations to each other which God has established. It would restore to home a meaning, and to the pleasures of home a reality, which they are in danger of losing altogether. Forsaking the shadow of happiness, we should find the substance. Instead of a continual round of physical excitation, and the 324 THE LAW OF PARENTS. ceaseless pursuit of pleasures which, as every one confesses, end in ennui and disappointment, we should secure " A sacred and home-felt delight, A sober certainty of waking bliss," of which, previously, we could have had no conception. THE RIGHTS OF PARENTS. The right of the parent over his child is, of course, com- mensurate with his duties. If he be under obligation to educate his child in such manner as he supposes will most conduce to the child's happiness and the welfare of society, he has, from necessity, the right to control the child in every thing necessary to the fulfilment of this obligation. The only limits imposed are, that he exert this control no further than is necessary to the fulfilment of his obligation, and that he exert it with the intention for which it was conferred. While he discharges his parental duties within these limits, he is, by the law of God, exempt from inter- ference both from the individual and from society. Of the duration of this obligation and this right. 1. In infancy, the control of the parent over the child is absolute; that is, it is exercised without any respect whatever to the wishes of the child. 2. When the child has arrived at majority, and has assumed the responsibility of its own conduct, both the responsibility and the right of the parent cease altogether. The time of majority is fixed in most civilized nations by statute. In Great Britain and in the United States, an individual becomes of age at his twenty-first year. The law, therefore, settles the rights and obligations of the parties, so far as civil society is concerned, but does not pretend to decide upon the moral relations of the parties. 3. As the rights and duties of the parent at one period are absolute, and at another cease altogether, it is reason- able to infer, that the control of the parent should be ex- ercised on more and more liberal principles, that a wider and wider discretion should be allowed to the child, and that his feelings and predilections should be more and more consulted, as he grows older ; so that, when he comes to act for himself, he may have become prepared for the THE LAW OF PARENTS. 325 responsibility which he assumes, by as extensive an experi- ence as the nature of the case admits. 4. Hence, I think that a parent is bound to consult the wishes of his child, in proportion to his age, whenever this can be done innocently ; and also, to vary his modes of enforcing authority, so as to adapt them to the motives of which the increasing intellect of the child is susceptible. While it is true that the treatment proper for a young man, would ruin a child, it is equally true that the treatment proper for a child, might very possibly ruin a young man. The right of control, however, still rests with the parent, and the duty of obedience still is imposed upon the child. The parent is merely bound to exercise it in a manner suited to the nature of the being over whom it is to be exerted. The authority of instructors is a delegated authority, derived immediately from the parent. He, for the time beinff, stands to the pupil in loco parentis. Hence, the relation between him and the pupil is analogous to that between parent and child; that is, it is the relation of superiority and inferiority. The right of the instructor is to command ; the obligation of the pupil is to obey. The right of the instructor is, however, to be exercised, as I before stated, when speaking of the parent, for the pupil's benefit. For the exercise of it, he is responsible to the parent, whose professional agent he is. He must use his own best skill and judgment, in governing and teaching his pupil. If he and the parent cannot agree, the con- nection must be dissolved. But, as he is a professional agent, he must use his own intellect and skill in the exer- cise of his own profession, and, in the use of it, he is to be interfered with by no one. 28 326 CHAPTER FOURTH. THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 1 SHALL consider in this chapter the duties and the rights of children, and their duration. THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN. I. Obedience. By this I mean, that the relation be- tween parent and child obliges the latter to conform to the will of the former because it is his will, aside from the con- sideration that what is required seems to the child best or wisest. The only limitation to this rule is the limitation of conscience. A parent has no right to require a child to do what it believes to be wrong ; and a child is under no ob- ligation, in such a case, to obey the commands of a parent. The child must obey God, and meekly suffer the conse- quences. It has even in this case no right to resist. The reasons of this rule are manifest. 1. The design of the whole domestic constitution would be frustrated without it. This design, from what has been already remarked, is, to enable the child to avail itself both of the wisdom, and knowledge, and experience, of the parent ; and also of that affection which prompts the parent to em- ploy all these for the well-being of the child. But of these advantages the child can never avail himself, unless he yield obedience to the parent's authority, until he have acquired that age and experience which are necessary to enable him to direct and to govern himself. 2. That this is the duty of children is made apparent by the precepts of the Holy Scriptures : Exodus xx, 12. " Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." This, as St. Paul remarks, Eph. vi, 2, 3, is the only commandment in the decalogue, to which a special promise is annexed THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 327 In the book of Proverbs no duty is more frequently incul- cated than this ; and of no one are the consequences of obedience and disobedience more fully set forth. A few examples may serve as a specimen : Proverbs i, 8, 9. " My son, keep the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother. They shall be an ornament of grace (that is, a graceful ornament) unto thy head, and chains about thy neck." Proverbs vi, 20. " Keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother." Proverbs xiii, 1. "A wise son heareth his father's instructions, but a scorner heareth not rebuke." The same duty is frequently inculcated in the New Testament : Ephesians vi, 1. " Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right." The meaning of the phrase, " in the Lord," I suppose to be, in accordance with the will of the Lord. Colossians iii, 20. " Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing unto the Lord." The phrase, " well pleasing unto the Lord," is here of the same meaning as " in the Lord," above. The displeasure of God against those who violate this command, is also frequently denounced in the Scriptures : Deuteronomy xxvii, 16. "Cursed be he that setteth light by his father or his mother ; and all the people shall say Amen." 'Proverbs xv, 5. " 4 fool despiseth his father's instruc- tions." Proverbs xxx, 17. "The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young eagles shall eat it." That is, he shall perish by a violent death ; he shall come to a miserable end. From such passages as these, and I have selected only a very few from a great number that might have been quoted, we learn, 1. That the Holy Scriptures plainly inculcate obedience to parents as a command of God. He who is guilty of disobedience, therefore, violates not merely the command of man, but that also of God. And it is, there- 328 THE LAW OF CHILDREN. fore, our duty always to urge it, and to exact it, mainly on this ground. 2. That they consider obedience to parents as no indi- cation of meanness and servility ; but, on the contrary, as the most honorable and delightful exhibition of character that can be manifested by the young. It is a graceful ornament, which confers additional beauty upon that which was otherwise lovely. 3. That the violation of this commandment exposes the transgressor to special and peculiar judgments. And, even without the light of revelation, I think that the observation of every one must convince him, that the curse of God rests heavily upon filial disobedience, and that his peculiar bless- ing follows filial obedience. And, indeed, what can be a surer indication of future profligacy and ruin, than that tur- bulent impatience of restraint, which leads a youth to follow the headlong impulses of passion, in preference to the counsels of age and experience, even when conveyed in the language of tender and disinterested affection ? II. Another duty of children to parents, is reverence. This is implied in the commandment, " honor thy father and thy mother." By reverence, I mean that conduct and those sentiments which are due from an inferior to a supe- rior. The parent is the superior, and the child the inferior, by virtue of the relation which God himself has established. Whatever may be the rank or the attainments of the child, and how much soever they may be superior to those of the parent, these can never abrogate the previous relation which God has established. The child is bound to show deference to the parent, whenever it is possible, to evince that he considers him his superior ; and to perform for him services which he would perform for no other person. And let it always be remembered, that in this, there is nothing degrading, but every thing honorable. No more ennobling and dignified trait of character can be exhibited, than that of universal and profound filial respect. The same principle, carried out, would teach us universal and tender respect for old age, at all times, and under all circumstances. III. Another duty of children is filial affection, or the peculiar affection due from a child to a parent, because he THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 329 is a parent. A parent may be entitled to our love, because he is a man, or because he is such a man, that is, possessing such excellences of character ; but, besides all this, and aside from it all, he is entitled to out affection on account of the relation in which he stands to us. This imposes upon us the duty not only of hiding his foibles, of cover- ing his defects, of shielding him from misfortune, and of seeking his happiness by what means soever Providence has placed in our power, but also of performing all this, and all the other duties of which we have spoken, from love to him, because he is our parent, a love which shall render such services not a burden, but a pleasure, under what circumstances soever it may be our duty to render them. IV. It is the duty of the child, whenever it is by the providence of God rendered necessary, to support his parent in old age. That man would deserve the reputa- tion of a monster, who would not cheerfully deny himself, in order to be able to minister to the comforts of the de- clining years of his parent. THE RIGHTS OF CHILDREN. 1. Children have a right to maintenance, and, as has been remarked before, a maintenance corresponding to the circumstances and condition of the parent. 2. They have a right to expect that the parent will exert his authority, not for his own advantage, nor from caprice, but for the good of the child, according to his best judg- ment. If the parent act otherwise, he violates his duty to his children and to God. This, however, in no manner liberates the child from his obligations to his parent. These remain in full force, the same as before. The wrong of one party is no excuse for wrong in the other. It is the child's misfortune, but it can never be alleviated by domestic strife, and still less by filial disobedience and ingratitude. Of the duration of these rights and obligations. 1. Of obedience. The child is bound to obey the parent so long as he remains in a state of pupilage, that is, so long as the parent is responsible for his conduct, and he is dependent upon his parent. This period, so far as 28* 330 THE LAW OF CHILDREN. society is concerned, as has been remarked, is fixed, in most countries, by statute. Sometimes, by the consent of both parties, it ceases before that period ; at other times, it continues beyond it. With the termination of minority, let it occur when it will, the duty of obedience ceases. After this, however, the advice of the parent is entitled to more deference and respect than that of any other person ; but, as the individual now acts upon his own responsibility, it is only advice, since it has ceased to be authoritative. 2. The conscience of a child becomes capable of delib- erate decision long before its period of pupilage ceases. Whenever this decision is fairly and honestly expressed, the parent ought not to interfere with it. It is his duty to strive to convince his child, if he think it to be in error ; but, if he cannot succeed in producing conviction^ he must leave the child, like any other human being, to obey God in the manner it thinks will be most acceptable to Him. 3. The obligation of respect and affection for parents, never ceases, but rather increases with advancing age. As the child grows older, he becomes capable of more disinterested affection, and of the manifestation of more delicate respect ; and, as the parent grows older, he feels more sensibly the need of attention ; and his happiness is more decidedly dependent upon it. As we increase in years, it should, therefore, be our more assiduous endeavor to make a suitable return to our parents for their kindness bestowed upon us in infancy and youth, and to manifest, by unremitting attention, and delicate and heartfelt affection, our repentance for those acts of thoughtlessness and way- wardness which formerly may have grieved them. That a peculiar insensibility exists to the obligations of the parental and filial relation, is, I fear, too evident to need any extended illustration. The notion, that a family is a society, and that a society must be governed, and that the right and the duty of governing this society rest with the parent, seems to be rapidly vanishing from the minds of men. In the place of it, it seems to be the prevalent opinion, that children may grow up as they please ; and that the exertion of parental restraint is an infringement upon the personal liberty of the child. But all this will THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 331 not abrogate the law o'f God, nor will it avert the punish- ments which he has connected, indissolubly, with disobe- dience. The parent who neglects his duty to his children, is sowing thickly, for himself and for them, the seeds of his future misery. He who is suffering the evil dispositions of his children to grow up uncorrected, will find that he is cherishing a viper by which he himself will first be stung. That parent who is accustoming his children to habits of thoughtless caprice and reckless expenditure, and who stupidly smiles at the ebullitions of youthful passion, and the indulgence in fashionable vice, as indications of a manly spirit, needs no prophet to foretell, that, unless the dissolute- ness of his family leave him early childless, his gray hairs will be brought down with sorrow to the grave. I remarked, at the close of the last chapter, that the duty of instructors was analogous to that of parents, and that they stood to pupils in a relation essentially parental. It is proper here to add, that a pupil stands to his instructor in a relation essentially filial. His duty is obedience: first to his parent ; and, secondly, to the professional agent to whom he has been committed by his parent. The equals, in this relation, are the parent and the instructor : to both of them is the pupil the inferior ; and to both is he under the obligation of obedience, respect and reverence. Now, such being the nature of the relation, it is the duty of the instructor to enforce obedience, and of the pupil to render it. It would be very easy to show, that, on the fulfilment of this duty on the part of the instructor, the in- terests of education, and the welfare of the young, vitally depend. Without discipline, there \a n be formed no valu- able habit. Without it, when young persons are congre- gated together, far away from the restraints of domestic society, exposed to the allurements of ever-present tempta- tion, and excited by the stimulus of youthful passion, every vicious habit must be cultivated. The young man may applaud the negligent and pusillanimous instructor ; but, when that man, no longer young, suffers the result of that neglect and pusillanimity, it is well if a better spirit have taught him to mention the name of that instructor without bitter execration. 332 THE LAW OP CHILDREN. " In colleges and halls, in ancient days, There dwelt a sage called Discipline. His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile Played on his lips ; and in his speech was heard Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love. The occupation dearest to his heart Was to encourage goodness. Learning grew, Beneath his care, a thriving, vigorous plant. The mind was well informed, the passions held Subordinate, and diligence was choice. If e'er it chanced, as sometimes chance it must, That one, among so many, overleaped The limits of control, his gentle eye Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke. His frown was full of terror, and his voice Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe, As left him not, till penitence had won Lost favor back again, and closed the breach. But Discipline at length, O'erlooked and unemployed, grew sick, and died. Then study languished, emulation slept, And virtue fled. The schools became a scene Of solemn farce, where ignorance in stilts, His cap well lined with logic not his own, With parrot tongue, performed the scholar's part, Proceeding soon a graduated dunce. What was learned, If aught was learned in childhood, is forgot; And such expense as pinches parents blue, And mortifies the liberal hand of love, Is squandered in pursuit of idle sports And vicious pleasures." Task. 333 CLASS THIRD. DUTIES TO MAN, AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY. To this class belong the duties of magistrates and citizens. As these, however, would be but imperfectly understood, without a knowledge of the nature of civil society, and of the relations subsisting between society and the individual, it will be necessary to consider these latter, before entering upon the former. I shall, therefore, attempt to explain, first, The Nature and Limitations of Civil Society ; sec- ondly, Government, or the Manner in which the Obligations of Society are Discharged ; thirdly, The Duties of Magis- trates ; fourthly, The Duties of Citizens. 334 CHAPTER FIRST OF CIVIL SOCIETY. As civil society is a somewhat complicated conception, it may be useful, in the first place, to consider the nature of a society in its simplest form. This chapter will, there- fore, be divided into two sections. The first treats of the constitution of a simple society ; the second, of the consti- tution of civil society. SECTION I. OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. I. Of the nature of a Simple Society. 1. A society of any sort originates in a peculiar form of contract, entered into between each several individual forming the society, on the one part, and all the other members of the society on the other part. Each party promises to do certain things to or for the other, and puts itself under moral obligation to do so. Hence, we see that conscience, or the power of recognising moral obligation, is, in the very nature of things, essential to the existence of a society. Without it, a society could not be formed. 2. This contract, like any other, respects those things, and those things only, in which the parties have thus bound themselves to each other. As the individual is under no obligation to belong to the society, but the obligation is purely voluntary, he is bound in no other manner, and for no other purpose, than those in and for which he has bound OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 335 nimself. In all other respects, he is as free as he was before. 3. Inasmuch as the formation of a society involves the idea of a moral obligation, each party is under moral obli- gation to fulfil its part of the contract. The society is bound to do what it has promised to every individual, and every individual is bound to do what he has promised to the society. If either party cease to do this, the compact, like any other mutual contract, is dissolved. 4. Inasmuch as every individual is, in all respects ex- cepting those in which he has bound himself, as free as he was before, the society has no right to impose upon the individual any other obligation than those under which he has placed himself. For, as he has come under no such obligation to them, they have no more control over him than any other men. And, as their whole power is limited to that which has been conferred upon them by individuals, beyond this limit, they are no society; they have no power ; their act is really out of the society, and is, of course, binding upon no member of the society, any more than upon any other man. 5. As every member of the society enters it upon the same terms, that is, as every one comes under the same obligations to the society, and the society comes under the same obligations to him, they are, by consequence, so far as the society is concerned, all equals or fellows. All have equal rights, and all are subject to the same obli- gations. 6. That which defines the obligations under which the individual and the society have come, in respect to each other, is called the constitution of the society. It is intend- ed to express the object of the association, and the manner in which that object is to be accomplished : that is to say, it declares what the individual promises to do for the society, what the society promises to do for the individual, and the object for which this association between the parties is formed. 7. As the union of individuals in this manner is voluntary, every member naturally has a right to dissolve the con- nection when he pleases ; and the society have also a cor- 336 OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. responding right. As, however, this would frequently expose both parties to inconvenience, it is common, in the articles of the constitution, or the form of compact, to specify on what terms this may be done. When this part of the agreement has thus been entered into, it of course becomes as binding as any other part of it. II. Of the manner in which such a society shall be gov- erned. The object of any such association is to do something. But it is obvious that they, can act only on one of three suppositions : by unanimity, by a minority, or by a majority. To expect unanimity in the opinions of a being so diver- sified in character as man, is frivolous. To suspend the operation of many upon the decisions of one, is manifestly unjust, would be subversive of the whole object of the association, and would render the whole society more ineffi- cient than the separate individuals of which it is composed. To suppose a society to be governed by a minority, would be to suppose a less number of equals superior in wisdom and goodness to a greater number, which is absurd. It remains, therefore, that every society must of necessity be governed by a majority. III. Of the limits within which the power of the majority is restricted. The majority, as we have just seen, is vested, from necessity, with the whole power of the society. But it derives its power wholly and exclusively from the society, and of course it can have no power beyond, or diverse from, that of the society itself. Now, as the power of the society is limited by the concessions made by each individual respectively, and is bound by its obligations to each individ- ual, the power of the majority is manifestly restricted within precisely the same limits. Thus, to be more particular, a majority has no right to do any thing which the individuals forming the society have not authorized the society to do : 1. They have no right to change the object of the so- ciety. If this be changed, another society is formed, and the individual members are, as at first, at liberty to unite with it or not. OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 337 2. They have no right to do any thing beyond, or differ- ent from, the object of the society. The reasons are the same as in the former instance. 3. Nor have they a right to do any thing in a manner different from that to which the members, upon entering the society, agreed. The manner set forth in the consti- tution, was that by which the individuals bound themselves, and they are bound by nothing else. 4. Nor have they a right to do any thing which violates the principle of the entire social equality of the members. As all subjected themselves equally to the same rules, any act which supposes a difference of right, is at variance with the fundamental principle of the compact. And, hence, from the nature of the compact, it is obvious, that, while a majority act within the limits of the authority thus delegated to them, the individual is under a moral obligation to obey their decisions ; for he has voluntarily placed himself under such obligation, and he is bound to fulfil it. And, on the other hand, the society is bound to fulfil to the individual the contract which they have formed with him, and to carry forward the object of the association in the manner and in the spirit of the contract' entered into. Nor is this a mere matter of form or of expediency : it is a matter of moral obligation voluntarily entered into ; and it is as binding as any other contract formed under any other circumstances. And, again, if the society or the majority act in violation }f these engagements, or if they do any thing not committed .o them by the individual, such act is not binding upon any member ; and he is under no more obligation to be gov- erned by it, than he would be if it were done by any other persons, or if not done at all. If these principles be correct, they will, I think, throw some light upon the question of the durability of corpora- tions. A corporation is a society established for certain purposes, which are to be executed in a certain manner. He who joins it, joins it under these conditions ; and the whole power of the society consists in power to do these things in this manner. If they do any tiling else, they, 29 338 OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. when doing it, are not this society, but some other. And of course those, whether the minority or the majority, who act according to the original compact, are the society ; and the others, whether more or less, are something else. The act of incorporation is governed by the same principles. It renders the persons so associated a body politic, and recognised in law, but it does not interfere with the original principles of such an association. The corporation, there- fore, are the persons, whether more or less, who adhere to the original agreement ; and any act declaring any thing else to be the society, is unjust and void. But suppose them all to have altered their sentiments. The society is then, of course, dissolved. They may, if they choose, form another society ; but they are not another, of course, nor can they be such until they form another organization. Again, suppose that they have property given under the original association, and for the promotion of its objects, and the whole society, or a majority of them, have changed its objects. I answer, If a part still remain, and prosecute the original object, they are the society ; and the others, by changing the object, have ceased to be the society. The right of property vests with those who adhere to the original constitution. If all have changed the object, the society is dissolved ; and all ownership, so far as the property is concerned, ceases. It therefore either belongs to the public, or reverts to the heirs at law. A company of men united for another object, though retaining the same name, have no more right to inherit it than any other citizens. The right of a legislature to give it to them by special act, is even very questionable. Legislatures are not empowered to bestow property upon men at will ; and such grant, being beyond the power conceded to the legislator, seems to me to be null and void. The principles of this section seem to me to demand the special attention of those who are at present engaged in conducting the business of voluntary associations. It should always be remembered, that he who joins a voluntary asso- ciation, joins it for a specified object, and for no other. The association itself has one object, and no other. This OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 339 object, and the manner in which it is to be accomplished, ought to be plainly set forth in the constitution. Now, when a majority attempt to do any thing not comprehended within this object thus set forth, or in a manner at variance with that prescribed, they violate the fundamental article of the compact, and the society is virtually dissolved. And against such infraction of right it is the duty of the individual to protest ; and if it be persisted in, it is his duty to withdraw. And it seems to me that, otherwise, the whole benefit of voluntary associations will be lost ; and if the whole society do it, the society is changed, and it is changed in no man- ner the less because its original name is retained. If the objects of such associations he not restricted, their increasing complication will render them unmanageable by any form of agency. If an individual, when he unites with others for one object, knows not for how many objects, nor for what modes of accomplishing them, he shall be held re- sponsible, who will ever unite in a benevolent enterprise ? And, if masses of men may be thus associated in every part of a country for one professed object, and this object may be modified, changed, or exceeded, according to the will of an accidental majority, voluntary associations will very soon be transformed into the tools of intriguing an i ambitious men, and will thus become a curse instead of a blessing. SECTION II. OP CIVIL SOCIETY, In order to consider this subject correctly, it will be necessary to consider society as distinct from government. It may exist without a government. At some time it must have so existed. And in all cases, government is merely the instrument by which it accomplishes its purposes. Government is the agent. Society is the principal. The first consideration which meets us, in the discussion 340 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. of this subject, is, that CIVIL SOCIETY is AN INSTITUTION OF GOD ; or, in other words, it is the will of God that man should live in a state of society. This may be shown both from the original impulses common to all men, and from the necessities of man, arising out of the conditions of his present existence. I. From the original impulses of man. 1. One of the strongest and most universal impulses of our nature, is a general love for society. It commences, as every one must have observed, with early infancy, and continues, unabated, to the close of life. The poets can conceive of no situation more afflictive, or more intolerable, than that of a human being in a state of perfect loneliness. Hence, solitary confinement is considered, by all mankind, as one of the severest forms of punishment. And, hence, a disposition to separate one's self from society is one of the surest indications of mental derangement. Now, the natural result of this intense and universal impulse is a disposition to control such other desires as shall be incon- sistent with it. Wherever these dispositions exist, a num ber of human beings will as readily and naturally form a society as they will do any other thing on which their happiness depends. A constitution of this sort manifestly shows what is the will of our Creator concerning us. 2. The various forms of human attachment illustrate the same truth. Thus, the attachment between the sexes at once forms a society, which is the origin of every other. Of this union, the fundamental principle is a limited surrender of the happiness of each to that of the other, and the consequent attainment of an increased return of happiness. From this arises the love of parents to children, and that of children to parents, and all the various modifications of affection resulting from collateral and more distant relationships. Besides these, there must continually arise the feeling of friendship between individuals of similar habits and of cor- respondent pursuits ; the love of benevolence towards those who need our succor, or who awaken our sympathy ; and the love of approbation, which will stimulate us to deny ourselves for the sake of acquiring the good opinion of those OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 341 by whom we are surrounded. Now, the tendency of all these instincts is manifestly twofold : first, as in the former instance, as these propensities can be gratified only by society, we shall be disposed to surrender whatever will be inconsistent with the enjoyment of society ; and, secondly, since it is, as we have seen before, in the very nature of affection, to surrender our own personal gratification for the happiness of those whom we love, affection renders such a surrender one of the very sources of our individual happi- ness. Thus, patriotism, which is only one form of the love of society, not only supposes a man to be willing to sur- render something personal for the sake of something general, which he likes better, but also to derive happiness from that very surrender, and to be actually happier when acting from these principles than from any other. It is almost needless to add, that the Creator's intention, in forming beings with such impulsions, is too evident to be mistaken. II. The same truth is taught from the necessities imposed upon us by the conditions of our being. 1. Suppose the human race, entirely destitute of these social principles, to have been scattered . abroad over the face of the earth as mere isolated individuals. It is evident that, under such circumstances, the race must quickly have perished. Man, thus isolated, could never contend, either with the cold of the northern, or with the wild beasts of the temperate and warmer, regions. He has neither muscular power, nor agility, nor instinct, to protect him from the one, nor any natural form of clothing to shield him from the other. 2. But suppose that, by any means, the race of man could be continued. Without society, the progressive melioration of his condition would be impossible. Without society, there could be no division of labor. Every one must do every thing for himself, and at the greatest possible disadvantage. Without society, there could be neither any knowledge of the agents of nature, nor any application of them to the production of value. A man's instruments would be almost exclusively limited to his teeth and nails. Without society, there could be no acknowledged right of property. Hence, from these causes, there could be no accumulated capital; and each 29* 342 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. successive generation of men must, like the brutes, remain precisely in the condition of their predecessors. It is equally evident, that, under these circumstances, there could exist no possibility of either intellectual or moral improvement. In fact, take the most civilized, intellectual, and moral condition in which man has ever existed, and compare it with the condition of man naked, wandering, destitute, exposed to the peltings of every tempest, and liable to become the prey of every ferocious beast, and the difference between these two conditions is wholly the result of society. If it be granted that God is benevolent, and wills the happiness of man, nay, if it be even granted that God wills the existence of man, it must be conceded that He also wills that condition on which, not merely his hap- piness, but even his very existence, depends. Now, if this be the fact, that is, if civil society be an institution of God, several important conclusions will be seen to follow from it : 1. A very important distinction may be observed between civil society and a simple or voluntary society, such as is described in the last section. In a simple society, the con- tract is voluntary, and is, like any other society, dissolved at the pleasure of the parties ; or it ceases to be binding upon either party, if its conditions be violated by the other party. But, civil society being an institution of God, spe- cific duties are imposed upon both parties, which remain unchanged even after the other party may, in various re- spects, have violated his part of the contract. In civil society, we are under obligation to God as well as to man, and the former obligation remains even after the other has been annulled. In this respect, it follows the analogy of the other relations established by God, as that of husband and wife, parent and child, in which the one party is bound to act in obedience to the will of God, and according to the obligations of the relation, whether the other party does so or not. 2. Civil society being an ordinance of God, it cannot be justly established, upon any principles whatsoever, simply according to the will of the parties, but it must be established upon the principles which God has established. If it be OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 343 established upon any other principles, the evidence of his displeasure will be seen in the mutual evil which both parties suffer, in consequence of violating a law of their being. Such is the case with marriage. This is a form of society established by God. Men have no right to enter into it as they please, but only according to the laws which God has established ; and, if they act otherwise, mutual misery will be the result. 3. If society be an ordinance of God, it follows that every man who conforms to the social laws of God has a right to it. For if, in the formation of civil society, men are under obligation to act in obedience to the will of God, they have no right to construct it upon such principles as will exclude any man who is willing to obey the social laws of his Maker. No man can, therefore, justly be ex- cluded from society, unless he have committed some overt act by which he has forfeited this right. His original right is to be taken for granted ; the proof of forfeiture rests with those who would exclude him. Hence, it is not enough, to say, if a man does not like this society, he may go to another. So long as he violates none of his Maker's social laws, he has a right to this society, and he cannot be ex- cluded from it without injustice. Any course of legislation, therefore, which obliges men to leave a society, unless their forfeiture of social right be proved, is oppressive and unjust. 4. As society is an ordinance of God, it is evidently the will of God that its existence be preserved. Hence, society has a right to take all the means which may be necessary to prevent those crimes, which, if permitted, must destroy society itself. Hence is derived its power to punish crimi- nals, to enforce contracts, and to establish such forms of government as may best conduce to the well-being of the social institution. I suppose it to have been from a misconception of these principles, that our forefathers erred. They conceived that, in forming a civil society here in the wilderness, they had a right to frame its provisions in such manner as they chose. Hence, they made the form of religious belief a subject of civil legislation, and assumed the right of ban- 344 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. ishing from their society those who differed from them in the mode of worshipping God. Their first assumption I conceive to be an error. If society be an ordinance of God, whenever and wherever men form it, they must form it in obedience to his laws. But he has never intended that religious belief, or religious practice, if they interfere not with the rights of others, should be subject to human legislation. Secondly. OF THE NATURE AND LIMITATIONS OF THE CONTRACT entered into between the individual and civil society. It has been already remarked, that every society is es- sentially a mutual compact, entered into between every in- dividual and all the rest of those who form the society. As all these individuals enter the society upon the same terms, that is, put themselves under the power of society in the same respects, the power of the society over the individual is derived from the concession of every individual, and is no other, and in no wise different from what these individuals have made it. And, on the other hand, as every member of the society is a party to the contract which the society has made with the individual, every member of the society is bound faithfully to execute the contract thus entered into. But, as it was also remarked, this society differs from a simple or voluntary society, inasmuch as it is an ordinance of God, and it is subject to the laws which he has imposed upon it. That every man is bound to become a member of civil society, need not be asserted ; all that I affirm is, that, if men form a civil society, they are bound to form it ac- cording to the laws which God has appointed. They cannot form it according to any other principles, without violating the rights of their fellow-men, and disobeying the laws of God. The question, then, which meets us as of the first im- portance, is this: What are the laws under which God has subjected civil society ? On this question I now pro- ceed to offer a few suggestions, considering, first, what is essential to the existence of society ; and, secondly, what is merely accidental OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 345 1. Of what is essential to the existence of civil society. 1. As God wills the existence of civil society, it is man- ifest that he must forbid whatever would be inconsistent with its existence. And, on the other hand, he who chooses to enter society, virtually contracts to abstain from whatever is, from the constitution of things, inconsistent with its existence. This, I think, is as evident as that a man cannot honestly enter into a contract to do any two things in their nature essentially at variance. 2. Suppose, now, a number of men to meet together to form a society, all being perfectly acquainted with the law of .reciprocity, and all perfectly inclined to obey it. I think it is manifest that such persons would have to surren- der nothing whatever, in order to form a civil society. Every one would do just as he pleased, and yet every one would enjoy fully all the benefit of the social nature of man ; that is, every one would enjoy all the blessings arising both from his individual and from his social constitu- tion. This, I suppose, would be the most perfect state of human society of which we are able to conceive. As, therefore, society, in its most perfect state, may exist without the individual's surrendering up the right to do any thing which is consistent with the law of reciprocity, the existence of society presents no reason why he should sur- render any right which he may enjoy consistently with this law. Whatever other reasons there may be, as those of benevolence, mercy, or religion, they belong not to this question. As every man has, originally, the right to do as he pleases, provided he interferes not with the rights of his neighbors, and as the existence of civil society presents no reason why this right should be restricted, it remains, not- withstanding the existence of such society, just as it was before ; that is, the right vests, without change, in the in- dividual himself. 3. Suppose, now, any individual to violate the law of reciprocity ; as, for instance, that A steals the property of B, or violates a contract into which they have mutually entered. If this be allowed, that is, if every man were to steal at will the property of his neighbor, it is manifest that the right of property would be at an end, and every 346 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. man would be obliged to retire as far as possible from every other man ; that is, society would be dissolved. 4. Again, suppose that B takes the work of redress into his own hands, being, at once, his own legislatoi, judge and executioner. From the native principles of the human heart, it is evident that, from being the aggrieved party, he would, in turn, become the aggressor. This would lead to revenge on the part of A, a revenge to be repeated by the other party, until it ended either in the destruction of one or of both. Hence, every difference would lead to interminable war and unbridled ferocity ; and society would cease, because every man would prefer quiet solitude to ceaseless hostility. To allow one's self, therefore, in any violation of the law of reciprocity, or to assume the right of redressing one's own wrongs, is to pursue a course inconsistent with the existence of society ; for, were such a course to be pursued universally, society could not exist. Again, on the other hand, since, in a company of mor- ally imperfect beings, injury is liable to occur, and since, if injury were not prevented, the virtuous would become the prey of the vicious, and society would, as before, be destroyed by universal violence, it is manifestly necessary that injury be prevented, that is, that the virtuous be pro- tected, and that wrongs be redressed. But, as we have shown that the rights of individual self-protection and redress are inconsistent with the existence of society, and as the individual must not redress them, the duty devolves upon the other party, that is, upon society. Society is, therefore, bound to do for the individual what he has relin- quished the right to do for himself; that is, to protect him from violation of the law of reciprocity, or to redress his wrong, if this right be violated. Hence, we see the nature of the compact entered into between the individual and society. It essentially involves the following particulars : 1. Every individual, by entering society, promises that he will abstain from every violation of the law of recipro- city, which, if universally permitted, would destroy society. For, if he be allowed to violate it, the allowance to violate OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 347 it must be extended to all, since all are equals ; and thus ^society would be destroyed. But as, by the destruction of society, he would gain nothing but solitude, which he could enjoy without depriving others of what is to them a source of happiness, there can be no reason assigned why he should diminish their happiness, to procure what he could equally well enjoy by leaving them alone. If he join the society, he must conform to whatever is necessary to its existence ; if he be unwilling to do so, he must re- main alone. 2. Every individual promises to surrender to society the right of self-protection. 3. And, lastly, every individual promises to surrender to society the right to redress his own wrongs. And, on the other hand, society promises, 1. To protect the individual in the enjoyment of all his rights ; that is, to enforce upon every individual, within cer- tain limits, obedience to the law of reciprocity. 2. To redress wrongs whenever they may occur, either by obliging the offender to do justly, or else by inflicting such punishment as may be most likely to prevent a repe- tition of the injury, either by the offender or by others. It is important here to remark, that this surrender on the one part, and this obligation on the other part, are mutual and universal : that is to say, the individual, on his part, surrenders wholly and entirely the right either to defend or to redress himself; and, on the other hand, society guarantees to defend him, and to do him justice to the utmost ; that is, no matter in how small a right, and no matter at how great an expense. Hence, we see the anti-social tendency of all those secret societies, of which the object, either avowed or in fact, is to protect the individual members in opposition to the laws, that is, in opposition to society. In this case, while the individual receives from civil society the same benefits as other men, and expects from it the fulfilment of its part of the contract, he does not make, on his part, the correspondent surrender. He expects to be protected and redressed, but he reserves also the right of protecting and redressing himself, and it may be in opposition to the 348 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. just operation of those laws which he enforces upon others. And hence, also, we see the obligation of every one to exert himself to the uttermost, in order to enforce the execution of the laws, no matter in how small a matter, or in the case of how obscure an individual. The execution of the laws is what we all promise, and we are all bound to fulfil it. And if laws are not executed, that is, if indi- viduals be not protected, and wrongs be not redressed by society, the individuals will redress them themselves, and thus society will be dissolved. The frequent occurrence of mobs, that is, of extra-legal modes of redress for sup- posed grievances, are among the most decisive indications of a state of society verging towards dissolution. But, while this contract is thus universal and obligatory, it is to be remarked, that it is so only in respect to those things in which the parties have respectively bound them- selves. The individual, by entering into society, promises to abstain from whatever is inconsistent with the existence of society; but, by entering into society, he promises nothing more. Society promises to restrain and to redress whatever would be destructive to society, but it promises no more. In all other respects, the parties are exactly in the situation in which they were before the establishment of society. Thus freedom, therefore, both of person, of intellect, and of conscience, remain, by the fact of the existence of society, untouched. Thus also freedom of property remains as before, except simply in so far as a portion of every man's property is pledged to meet the necessary expenses of government. So long as he obey the law of reciprocity, society has no further demands upon him, unless his assistance be demanded in enforcing this obedience upon others. By this compact, every individual is very greatly the gainer. 1. He promises to obey the law of reciprocity, which is the law of his nature, and by the obedience to which alone he can be happy. 2. He surrenders the right of self-protection, which without society he can exert in but n very imperfect man- OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 349 ner, and with nothing but the force of his individual arm ; and he receives in return the right to wield in his defence the whole power of society. 3. He surrenders the right of redressing his own griev- ances, and receives in return the right to have his griev- ances redressed, at whatever expense, by the whole power of the society. And, hence, as God wills the happiness of man, we see another reason why society is in obedience to his will ; and why the laws necessary to the existence of society may be considered, as they are in fact considered in the Scriptures, as enacted by His authority. And, again, we see that, from the very nature of society, the individual is perfectly within its physical power. This power of the whole, which they are bound to use only for his protection and defence, they may use for his injury and oppression. And as the whole power of the society is in the hands of the majority, the whole happiness of the indi- vidual or of the minority is always in the power of the majority. Hence we see there is no safeguard against oppression, except that which exists in the conditions of the compact on which the society is formed, and the feeling of moral obligation to observe that compact inviolably. That is to say, the real question of civil liberty is not concerning forms of government, but concerning the respective limits and obligations of the individual and of society. When these are correctly adjusted and inviolably observed, there can be no oppression under any form of government. When these are not understood or not observed, there will be tyranny, under any form whatsoever. And to a man of sense it is a matter of very small consequence whether oppression proceed from one or from many ; from an hereditary tyrant or from an unprincipled majority. The latter is rather the more galling, and surely at least as difficult of remedy. And supposing the limits to have been correctly adjusted, il is obvious that they will be of no avail, unless there be in the community sufficient virtue to resist the temptations which continually occur to violate them. In the absense of this, the best constitution is valueless, or worse than 30 350 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. valueless. Hence, we see the necessity of individual virtue to the existence of civil freedom. And, hence, whatever tends to depress the standard of individual virtue, saps the very foundations of liberty. And hence religion, in its purest form, and under its most authoritative sanctions, is the surest hope of national as well as of individual happiness. II. Of the accidental modifications of civil society. I have thus far treated of what is essential to the social compact. Without such a contract as I have suggested, society could not exist. I by no means, however, intend to assert that these limits are exclusive ; and that men, in forming society, may not enter into contract in other respects, besides those which I have stated. Some of the incidental additions to the original forms of contract are the following : 1. After having adjusted the limits of the respective obligations, both of the society and of the individual, men may choose whatever form of government they please for the purpose of carrying forward the objects of society. But, having adopted a particular form of government, they bind themselves to whatever is necessary to the existence of that government. Thus, if men choose a republican form of government, in which the people are acknowledged to be the immediate fountain of alt power, they come under obli- gation to educate their children intellectually and morally ; for, without intellectual and moral education, such a form of government cannot long exist. And, as the intellectual education of the young can be made properly a subject of social enactment, this duty may be enforced by society. And the only reason why religious education does not come under the same rule is, that it is not, for reasons which have been before given, a subject for social enactment. 2. I have said that, by the essential principles of the social compact, every man is bound to contribute his part to the expenses of civil society ; but that, beyond this, he is not in any respect bound. Still, this does not exclude other forms of contract. Men may, if they choose, agree to hold their whole property subiect to the will of the whole, so that they shall be obligea to employ it, not each one for his own good, but each one for the benefit of the OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 351 whole society. I say, that such a state of things might exist, but it is manifest that it is not essential to society ; and that, being not essential, it is by no means to be pre- sumed', and that it cannot exist justly, unless this right have been expressly conceded by the individual to society. If society exert such a power when it has not been express- ly conceded to it, it is tyranny. The common fact has been, that society has presumed upon such powers, and has exercised them without reflection, and very greatly to social and individual injury. 3. Men have very generally been disposed to take for granted these accidental powers, and to question or limit the essential powers of society. An instance in point occurs in the question of war. The very idea of war sup- poses the society to have the right of determining the moral relations in which the individuals of one nation shall stand to the individuals of another nation. Now, this power of society over the individual has never, that I know of, been questioned. And yet, 1 think it would be very difficult to establish it. The moral precept is, " If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink." And I do not see that society has a right to abrogate this command, or to render void this obligation ; or that any moral agent has the right to commit to other individuals the power of changing his moral relations to any creature of God. For- giveness and charity to men are dispositions which we owe to God. And I do not see that society has any more right to interfere with the manifestation of these dispositions, than with the liberty to inculcate them and to teach them. To conclude. Whatever concessions on the part of the individual, and whatever powers on the part of society, are necessary to the existence of society, must, by the very fact of the existence of society, be taken for granted. Whatever is not thus necessary is a matter of concession and mutual adjustment ; and has no right to be presumed, unless it can be shown to have actually been surrendered. That is, in general, a man is bound by what he has agreed to ; but he is not bound by any thing else. I think no one can reflect upon the above considerations without being led to the conclusion, that the cultivation of 352 OF CIVIL SOCIETY. the moral nature of man is the grand means for the im provement of society. This alone teaches man, whether as an individual or as a society, to respect the rights of man, as an individual or as a society. This teaches every- one to observe inviolate the contract into which, as a member of society, he has entered. Now, since, as we have before shown, the light of conscience and the dictates of natural religion are insufficient to exert the requisite moral power over man, our only hope is in that revelation of his will which God has made in the Holy Scriptures. In these books we are taught that all our duties to man are taken under the immediate protection of Almighty God. On pain of his eternal displeasure, he commands us to love every man as ourselves. Here he holds forth the strongest inducements to obedience, and here he presents the strongest motives, not merely to reciprocity, but also to benevolence. It is lamentable to hear the levity with which some politi- cians, and, as they would persuade us to believe them to be, statesmen, speak of the religion of Jesus Christ; to observe how complacently they talk of using it as an instru- ment, convenient enough for directing the weak, but which a man of sense can well enough do without ; and which is a mere appendage to the forces that, by his constitution, are destined to act upon man. A more profound acquaint- ance with the moral and social nature of man, \vould, as it seems to me, work a very important change in their views of this subject. 353 CHAPTER SECOND. OF THE MODE IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. WE have thus far treated merely of the constitution of a society, of the contract entered into between the individ- ual and society, and of the obligations hence devolving upon each. The obligations of society are to protect the indi- vidual from infractions of the law of reciprocity, and to redress his wrongs if he have been injured. But it is manifest that this obligation cannot be dis- charged by the whole of society as a body. If a man steal from his neighbor, the whole community cannot leave their occupations, to detect, to try, and to punish the thief. Or, if a law is to be enacted respecting the punishment of theft, it cannot be done by the whole community, but must of necessity be intrusted to delegates. On the principle of division of labor, it is manifest that this service will be both more cheaply and more perfectly done, by those who devote themselves to it, than by those who are, for the greater part of the time, engaged in other occupations. Now I suppose a government to be that system of dele- gated agencies, by which these obligations of society to the individual are fulfilled. And, moreover, as every society may have various en- gagements to form with other independent societies, k is convenient, in general, that this business should be trans- acted by this same system of agencies. These two offices of government, though generally united, are in their na- ture distinct. Thus we see, in our own country, the State Governments are, to a considerable degree, intrusted with the first, while a part of the former, and all the latter power, vest in the general government. 30* 354 MODES IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF A government thus understood is naturally divided into three parts. 1. An individual may from ignorance violate the rights of his neighbor, and thus innocently expose himself to pun- ishment. Or, if he violate his neighbor's rights maliciously, and justly merit punishment, a punishment may be inflicted more severe than the nature of the case demands. To avoid this, it is necessary that the various forms of violation be as clearly as possible defined, and also that the penalty be plainly and explicitly attached to each. This is a law. This, as we have shown, must be done by delegates. These delegates are called a legislature, and the individual members of it are legislators. From what we have said, their power is manifestly limited. They have no power except to execute the obli- gations which society has undertaken to fulfil towards the individual. This is all that society has conferred, for it is all that society had to confer. If legislators originate any power in themselves, or exer- cise any power conferred, for any purpose different from that for which it was conferred, they violate right, and are guilty of tyranny. 2. But suppose a law to be enacted, that is, a crime to be defined, and the penalty to be affixed. It has reference to no particular case, for, when enacted, no case existed to be affected by it. Suppose now an individual to be accused of violating this law. Here it is necessary to apply the law to this particular case. In order to do this, we must ascertain, first, whether the accused did commit the act laid to his charge ; secondly, whether the act, if it be proved to have been done, is a violation of the law ; that is, whether it come within the description of actions which the law forbids ; and, thirdly, if this be proved, it is necessary to declare the punishment which the law assigns to this par- ticular violation. This is the judicial branch of the gov- ernment. 3. After the law has been thus applied to this particular case, it is necessary that it be carried into effect. This devolves upon the third, or the executive branch of a gov- ernment. SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. 355 Respecting all of these three branches of government, it may be remarked in general, that they are essentially inde- pendent of each other ; that each one has its specific duties marked out by society, within the sphere of which duties it is responsible to society, and to society alone. Nor is this independence at all affected by the mode of its appoint- ment. Society may choose a way of appointing an agent, but that is by no means a surrender of the claim which it has upon the agent. Thus, society may impose upon a legislature, or an executive, the duty of appointing a judi- ciary ; but the judiciary is just as much independent of the executive, or of the legislature, as though it were appointed in some other way. Society, by conferring upon one branch the right of appointment, has conferred upon it no other right. The judge, although appointed by the legislator, is as independent of him, as the legislator would be if appoint- ed by the judge. Each, within his own sphere, is under obligation to perform precisely those duties assigned by society, and no other. And hence arises the propriety of establishing the tenure of office, in each several branch, independently of the other. The two first of these departments are frequently sub- divided. Thus, the legislative department is commonly divided into two branches, chosen under dissimilar conditions, for the purpose of exerting a check upon each other, by repre- senting society under different aspects, and thus preventing partial and hasty legislation. The judiciary is also generally divided. The judges explain and interpret the law ; while it is the province of the jury to ascertain the facts. The executive is generally sole, and executes the law by means of subordinate agents. Sometimes, however, a coun- cil is added, for the sake of advice, without whose concur- rence the executive cannot act. Sometimes the fundamental principles of the social com- pact are expressed, and the respective powers of the different branches of the government are defined, and the mode of their appointment described in a written document. Such is the case in the United States. At other times, these 356 MODES IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF principles and customs have grown up in the progress of spciety, and are the deductions drawn from, or princi- ples established by, uncontested usage. The latter is the case in Great Britain. In either case, such principles and practices, whether expressed or understood, are called the constitution of a country. Nations differ widely in the mode of selection to office, and in the tenure by which office is held. Thus, under some constitutions, the government is wholly hereditary. In others, it is partly hereditary and partly elective. In others, it is wholly elective. Thus, in Great Britain, the executive and one branch of the legislature are hereditary ; the other branch of the legis- lature is elective. The judiciary is appointed by the exec- utive, though they hold office, except in the case of the lord high chancellor, during good behavior. In the United States, the executive, and both branches of the legislature, are elective. The judiciary is appointed by the executive, by and with the advice and consent of the senate. In the State Government, the mode of ap- pointment is various. If it be asked, Which of these is the preferable form of government? the answer, I think, must be conditional. The best form of government for any people, is the best that its present moral and social condition renders prac- ticable. A people may be so entirely surrendered to the influence of passion, and so feebly influenced by moral re- straint, that a government which relied upon moral restraint, could not exist for a day. In this case, a subordinate and inferior principle yet remains, the principle of fear ; and the only resort is to a government of force, or a military despotism. And such do we see to be the fact. An an- archy always ends in this form of government. After this has been established, and habits of subordination have been formed, while the moral restraints are yet too feeble for self-government, an hereditary government, which addresses itself to the imagination, and strengthens itself by the in- fluence of domestic connections and established usage, may be as good a form as a people can sustain. As they ad- vance in intellectual and moral cultivation, it may advanta SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. 357 geously become more and more elective ; and, in a suitable moral condition, it may be wholly so. For beings, who are willing to govern themselves by moral principle, there can be no doubt, that a goverment relying upon moral principle, is the true form of government. There is no reason why a man should be oppressed by taxation, and subjected to fear, who is willing to govern himself by the law of reciprocity. It is surely better for an intelligent and moral being to do right from his own will, than to pay another to force him to do right. And yet, as it is better that he should do right than wrong, even though he be forced to it, it is well that he should pay others to force him, if there be no other way of insuring his good conduct. God has rendered the blessing of freedom inseparable from moral restraint in the individual ; and hence it is vain for a people to expect to be free, unless they are first willing to be virtuous. It is on this point, that the question of the permanency of the present form of government "of the United States turns. That such a form of government requires, of necessity, a given amount of virtue in the people, cannot, I think, be doubted. If we possess that required amount of virtue, or if we can attain to it, the government will stand ; if not, it will fall. Or, if we now possess that amount of virtue, and do not maintain it, the government will fall. There is no self-sustaining power in any form of social organization. The only self-sustaining power is in individual virtue. And the form of a government will always adjust itself to the moral condition of a people. A virtuous people will, by their own moral power, frown away oppression, and, under any form of constitution, become essentially free. A people surrendered up to their own licentious passions, must be held in subjection by force ; for every one will find, that force alone can protect him from his neighbors ; and he will submit to be oppressed, if he may only be protected. Thus, in the feudal ages, the small independent landholders frequently made themselves slaves of one powerful chief, to shield themselves from the incessant oppression of twenty. 358 CHAPTER THIRD. THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT. FROM what has been said, the duties of the officers of a government may be stated in a few words. It will be remembered that a government derives its authority from society, of which it is the agent ; that society derives its authority from the compact formed by individuals ; that society, and the relations between society and individuals, are the ordinance of God : of course the officer of a government, as the organ of society, is bound as such by the law of God, and is under obligation to per- form the duties of his office in obedience to this law. And, hence, it makes no difference how the other party to the contract may execute their engagements ; he, as the servant of God, set apart for this very thing, is bound, neverthe- less, to act precisely according to the principles by which God has declared that this relation should be governed. The officers of a government are Legislative) Judicial, and Executive. I. Of Legislative Officers. 1. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the social principles of man, the nature of the relation which sub- sists between the individual and society, and the mutual obligations of each. By these are his power and his obli- gations limited ; and, unless he thus inform himself, he can never know respecting any act, whether it be just, or whether it be oppressive. Without such knowledge, he can never act with a clear conscience. 2. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the precise nature of the compact which binds together the particular society for which he legislates. This involves the general conditions of the social compact, and something more. It generally specifies conditions which the former does not THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC. 359 contain, and, besides, establishes the limit of the powers of the several branches of the government. He who enters upon the duties of a legislator, without such knowl- edge, is not only wicked, but contemptible. He is the worst of all empirics ; he offers to prescribe for a malady, and knows not whether the medicine he uses be a remedy or a poison. The injury which he inflicts is not on an in- dividual, but on an entire community. There is probably no method in which mischief is done so recklessly, and on so large a scale, as by ignorant, and thoughtless, and wicked legislation. Were these plain considerations duly weighed, there would be somewhat fewer candidates for legislative office, and a somewhat greater deliberation on the part of the people in selecting them. 3. Having made himself acquainted with his powers and his obligations, he is bound to exert his power precisely within the limits by which it is restricted, and for the pur- poses for which it was conferred, to the best of his knowl- edge and ability, and for the best good of the whole society. He is bound impartially to carry into effect the principles of the general and the particular compact, just in those respects in which the carrying them into effect is committed to him. For the action of others he is not re- sponsible, unless he has been made so responsible. He is not the organ of a section, or of a district, much less of a party, but of the society at large. And he who uses his power for the benefit of a section, or of a party, is false to his duty, to his country, and to his God. He is engraving his name on the adamantine pillar of his country's history, to be gazed upon for ever as an object of universal detes- tation. 4. It is his duty to leave every thing else undone. From no plea of present necessity, or of peculiar circumstances, may he overstep the limits of his constitutional power, either in the act itself, or the purpose for which the act is done. The moment he does this, he is a tyrant. Pre- cisely the power committed to him exists, and no other. If he may exercise one power not delegated, he may exer- cise another, and he may exercise all ; thus, on principle, he assumes himself to be the fountain of power ; restraint 360 THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS upon encroachment ceases, and all liberty is henceforth at an end. If the powers of a legislator are insuffi- cient to accomplish the purposes of society, inconveniences will arise. It is better that these should be endured until the necessity of some modification be made apparent, than to remedy them on principles which destroy all liberty, arid thus remove one inconvenience by taking away the possi- bility of ever removing another. II. Of judicial officers. 1. The judicial officer forms an independent branch of the government, or a separate and distinct agent, for ex- ecuting a particular part of the contract which society has made with the individual. As I have said before, it mat- ters not how he is appointed : as soon as he is appointed, he is the agent of society, and of society alone. The judge, precisely in the same manner as the legisla- tor, is bound by the principles of the social contract ; and by those of the particular civil compact of the society in whose behalf he acts. This is the limit of his authority j and it is on his own responsibility, if he transcend it. 2. The provisions of this compact, as they are embodied in laws, he is bound to enforce. And hence we see the relation in which the judge stands to the legislator. Both are equally limited by the principles of the original compact. The acts of both are valid, in so far as they are authorized by that compact. Hence, if the legislator violate his trust, and enact laws at variance with the constitution, the judge is bound not to enforce them. The fact, that the one has violated the constitution, imposes upon the other no obligation to do the same. Thus the judge, inasmuch as he is obliged to decide upon the constitutionality of a law before he en- forces it, becomes accidentally, but in fact, a coordinate power, without whose concurrence the law cannot go into effect. Hence we see that the duty of a judge is to understand, 1. The principles of that contract from which he de- rives his power ; 2. The laws of the community, whose agent he is ; 3. To explain these laws without fear, favor, or afiec- OF A GOVERNMENT. 361 lion ; and to show their bearing upon each individual case, without bias, either towards the individual, or towards so- ciety ; and, 4. To pronounce the decision of the law, according to its true intent. 5. As the jury are a part of the judicial agents of the government, they are bound in the same manner to decide upon the facts, according to their best knowledge and ability, with scrupulous and impartial integrity. III. Of executive officers. The executive office is either simple or complex. 1. Simple; as where his only duty is, to perform what either the legislative or judicial branches of the government have ordered to be done. Such is the case with sheriffs, military officers, &tc. Here the officer has no right to question the goodness or wisdom of the law ; since for these he is not responsible. His only duty is to execute it, so long as he retains his office. If he believe the action required of him to be morally wrong, or at variance with the constitution, he should resign. He has no right to hold the office, and refuse to perform the duties which others have been empow- ered to require of him. 2. Complex ; where legislative and executive duties are imposed upon the same person ; as where the chief magis- trate is allowed a vote, on all acts of the other branches of the legislature. As far as his duties are legislative, he is bound by the same principles as any other legislatoi. Sometimes his power is limited to a vote on mere con- stitutional questions ; and at others, it extends to all ques- tions whatsoever. Sometimes his assent is absolutely ne- cessary to the passage of all bills ; at others, it is only con- ditionally necessary, that is, the other branches may, under certain circumstances, enact laws without it. When this legislative power of the executive has been exerted within its constitutional limits, he becomes merely an executive officer. He has no other deliberative power than that conferred upon him by the constitution. He is under the same obligations as any other executive officer, 31 362 THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC to execute the law, unless it seem to him a violation of moral or constitutional obligation. In that case, it is his duty to resign. He has no more right than any other man, to hold the office, while he is, from any reason whatever, unable to discharge the duties which the office imposes upon him. That executive officer is guilty of gross per- version of official and moral obligation, who, after the decision of the legislative or judicial branch of a govern- ment has been obtained, suffers his own personal views to influence him in the discharge of his duty. The exhibi- tion of such a disposition is a manifest indication of an entire disqualification for office. It shows that a man is either destitute of the ability to comprehend the nature of his station, or fatally wanting in that self-government, so indispensably necessary to him who is called to preside over important business. And not only is an executive officer bound to exert no other power than that committed to him ; he is also bound to exert that power for no other purposes than those for which it was committed. A power may be conferred for the public good ; but this by no means authorizes a man to use it for the gratification of individual love or hatred ; much less for the sake of building up one political party, or of crushing another. Political corruption is in no re- spect the less wicked, because it is so common. Dishon- esty is no better policy in the affairs of state than in any other affairs; though men may persuade themselves and others to the contrary. 363 CHAPTER FOURTH. THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. FROM what has already been stated, it will be seen that the duties of a citizen are of two kinds : first, as an individual ; and, second, as a member of society. A few remarks on each of these will close this part of the sub- ject. FIRST. A.S an individual. Every citizen, as an individual, is bound to observe, in good faith, the contract which he has made with society. This obliges him, 1 . To observe the law of reciprocity, in all his intercourse with others. The nature of this law has been already explained. It is only necessary to remark, that society furnishes an ad- ditional reason for observing it, a reason founded both in voluntary compact, and also in the necessity of obedience to our own happiness. It may also be added, that the nature of the law of reciprocity binds us, not merely to avoid those acts which are destructive to the existence of society, but also those which would interfere with its hap- piness. The principle is, in all cases, the same. If we assume the right to interfere with the smallest means of happiness possessed by our neighbor, the admission of that assumption would excuse every form of interference. 2. To surrender the right of redressing his wrongs wholly to society. This has been considered already, in treating of the social compact. Aggression and injury in no case justify retaliation. If a man's house be attacked, he may, so far as society is concerned, repel the robber, because here society is unable, at the instant, to assist him ; but he is at liberty to put forth no other effort than that necessary to protect himself, or to secure the aggressor, for the purpose 362 THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC to execute the law, unless it seem to him a violation of moral or constitutional obligation. In that case, it is his duty to resign. He has no more right than any other man, to hold the office, while he is, from any reason whatever, unable to discharge the duties which the office imposes upon him. That executive officer is guilty of gross per- version of official and moral obligation, who, after the decision of the legislative or judicial branch of a govern- ment has been obtained, suffers his own personal views to influence him in the discharge of his duty. The exhibi- tion of such a disposition is a manifest indication of an entire disqualification for office. It shows that a man is either destitute of the ability to comprehend the nature of his station, or fatally wanting in that self-government, so indispensably necessary to him who is called to preside over important business. And not only is an executive officer bound to exert no other power than that committed to him ; he is also bound to exert that power for no other purposes than those for which it was committed. A power may be conferred for the public good ; but this by no means authorizes a man to use it for the gratification of individual love or hatred ; much less for the sake of building up one political party, or of crushing another. Political corruption is in no re- spect the less wicked, because it is so common. Dishon- esty is no better policy in the affairs of state than in any other affairs; though men may persuade themselves and others to the contrary. 363 CHAPTER FOURTH. THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. FROM what has already been stated, it will be seen that the duties of a citizen are of two kinds : first, as an individual ; and, second, as a member of society. A few remarks on each of these will close this part of the sub- ject. FIRST. A.S an individual. Every citizen, as an individual, is bound to observe, in f)od faith, the contract which he has made with society. his obliges him, 1 . To observe the law of reciprocity, in all his intercourse with others. The nature of this law has been already explained. It is only necessary to remark, that society furnishes an ad- ditional reason for observing it, a reason founded both in voluntary compact, and also in the necessity of obedience to our own happiness. It may also be added, that the nature of the law of reciprocity binds us, not merely to avoid those acts which are destructive to the existence of society, but also those which would interfere with its hap- piness. The principle is, in all cases, the same. If we assume the right to interfere with the smallest means of happiness possessed by our neighbor, the admission of that assumption would excuse every form of interference. 2. To surrender the right of redressing his wrongs wholly to society. This has been considered already, in treating of the social compact. Aggression and injury in no case justify retaliation. If a man's house be attacked, he may, so far as society is concerned, repel the robber, because here society is unable, at the instant, to assist him ; but he is at liberty to put forth no other effort than that necessary to protect himself, or to secure the aggressor, for the purpose 364 THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. of delivering him over to the judgment of society. If, after having secured him, we put him to death, this is murder. 3. To obey all laws made in accordance with the con- stituted powers of society. Hence, we are in no^ manner released from this obligation, by the conviction that the law is unwise or inexpedient. We have confided the decision of this question to society, and we must abide by that de- cision. To do otherwise, would be to constitute every man the judge in his own case ; that is, to allow every man to obey or disobey as he pleased, while he expected from every oilier man implicit obedience. Thus, though a man were convinced that laws regulating the rate of interest were in- expedient, this would give him no right to violate these laws. He must obey them until he be able to persuade society to think as he does. SECONDLY. The citizen is under obligations as a con- stituent member of society. By these obligations, on the other hand, he is bound to fulfil the contract which he has made with every individual. Hence, he is bound, 1. To use all the necessary exertion to secure to every individual, from the highest and most powerful to the lowest and most defenceless, the full benefit of perfect protection in the enjoyment of his rights. 2. To use all the necessary exertion to procure for every individual just and adequate redress for wrong. 3. To use all the necessary exertion to carry into effect the laws of civil society, and to detect and punish crime, whether committed against the individual or against soci- ety. Wherever he knows these laws to be violated, he is bound to take all proper steps to bring the offenders to justice. And here it is to be remarked, that he is to consider, not merely his property, but his personal service, pledged to the fulfilment of this obligation. He who stands by, and sees a mob tear down a house, is a partaker in the guilt. And, if society knowingly neglect to protect the individual in the enjoyment of his rights, every member of that society is, in equity, bound, in his proportion, to make good that loss, how great soever it may be. THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 365 4. It is the duty of the citizen to bear, cheerfully, his pro- portionate burden of the public expense. As society can- not be carried on without expense, he, by entering into society} obliges himself to bear his proportion of it. And, besides this, there are but few modes in which we receive back so much for what we expend, as when we pay money for the support of civil government. The gospel, I think, teaches us to go farther, and be ready to do more than we are compelled to do by law. The precept, " If a man compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain," refers to labor in the public service, and exhorts us to do more than can be in equity demanded of us. 5. Besides this, I think a citizen is under moral obligation to contribute his proportion to every effort which affords a reasonable prospect of rendering his fellow-citizens wiser and better. From every such successful effort, he receives material benefit, both in his person and estate. He ought to be willing to assist others in doing that from which he himself derives important advantage. 6. Inasmuch as society enters into a moral obligation to fulfil certain duties, which duties are performed by agents whom the society appoints ; for their faithful discharge of those duties, society is morally responsible. As this is the case, it is manifestly the duty of every member of society to choose such agents as, in his opinion, will truly and faith- fully discharge those duties to which they are appointed. He who, for the sake of party prejudice or personal feeling, acts otherwise, and selects individuals for office without re- gard to these solemn obligations, is using his full amount of influence to sap the very foundations of society, and to per- petrate the most revolting injustice. Thus far, we have gone upon the supposition that society has exerted its power within its constituted limits. This, however, unfortunately, is not always the case. The ques- tion then arises, What is the duty of an individual, when such a contingency shall arise ? Now, there are but three courses of conduct, in such a case, for the individual to pursue : passive obedience, resist- ance, and suffering in the cause of right : 31* 366 THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 1. Passive obedience, in many cases, would be manifestly wrong. We have no right to obey an unrighteous law, since we must obey God at all hazards. And, aside from this, the yielding to injustice forms a precedent for wrong, which may work the most extensive mischief to those who shall come after us. It is manifest, therefore, that passive obedience cannot be the rule of civil conduct. 2. Resistance by force. Resistance to civil authority, by a single individual, would be absurd. It can succeed only by the combination of all the aggrieved against the aggressors, terminating in an ap- peal to physical force ; that is, by civil war. The objections to this course are the following : 1. It is, at best, uncertain. It depends mainly on the question, which party is, under the present circumstances, the stronger ? Now, the oppressor is as likely to be the stronger as the oppressed, as the history of the world has abundantly shown. 2. It dissolves the social fabric, and thus destroys what- ever has thus far been gained in the way of social organi- zation. But it should be remembered that few forms of society have existed for any considerable period, in which there does not exist much- that is worthy of preservation. 3. The cause of all oppression is the wickedness of man. But civil war is, in its very nature, a most demoralizing pro- cess. It never fails to render men more wicked. Can it then be hoped that a form of government can be created, by men already worse than before, better than that which their previous but less intense wickedness rendered intoler- able? 4. Civil war is, of all evils which men inflict upon them- selves, the most horrible. It dissolves not only social but domestic ties, overturns all the security of property, throws back, for ages, all social improvement, and accustoms men to view, without disgust and even with pleasure, all that is atrocious and revolting. Napoleon, accustomed as- he was to bloodshed, turned away with hoiTor from the contempla- tion of civil war. This, then, cannot be considered the way designed by our Creator for rectifying social abuses. THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 367 3. The third course is that of suffering in the cause of right. Here \ve act as we believe to be right, in defiance of oppression, and bear patiently whatever an oppressor may inflict upon us. The advantages of this course are,- 1. It preserves entire whatever exists that is valuable in the present organization. 2. It presents the best prospect of ultimate correction of abuse, by appealing to the reason and the conscience of men. This is, surely, a more fit tribunal to which to refer a moral question, than the tribunal of physical force. 3. It causes no more suffering than is actually necessary to accomplish its object ; for, whenever men are convinced of the wickedness of oppression, the suffering, of itself, ceases. 4. Suffering in the cause of right has a manifest tendency to induce the injurious to review their conduct, under all the most favorable circumstances for conviction. It disarms pride and malevolence, and enlists sympathy in favor of the sufferer. Hence, its tendency is to make men better. 5. And experience has shown that the cause of civil liberty has always gained more by martyrdom than by war. It has rarely happened that, during civil war, the spirit of true liberty has not declined. Such was the case in the time of Charles I, in England. How far the love of liberty had declined in consequence of civil war, is evident from the fact, that Cromwell succeeded immediately to unlimited power, and Charles II returned with acclamation, to inflict upon the nation the most odious and heartless tyranny by which it was ever disgraced. During the suffering for con- science under his reign, the spirit of liberty revived, hurled his brother from the throne, and established British free- dom upon a firm, and, we trust, an immovable foundation. 6. Every one must be convinced, upon reflection, that this is really the course indicated by the highest moral excellence. Passive obedience may arise from servile fear ; resistance, from vain-glory, ambition, or desire of revolution. Suffering for the sake of right can arise only from a love of justice and a hatred of oppression. The real spirit of 368 THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. liberty can never exist, in any remarkable degree, in any nation where there is not this willingness to suffer in the cause of justice and liberty. Ever so little of the spirit of martyrdom is always a more favorable indication for civili- zation, than ever so much dexterity of party management, or ever so turbulent protestation of immaculate patriotism. 369 DIVISION II. THE LAW OF BENEVOLENCE. CHAPTER FIRST. GENERAL OBLIGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. WE have thus far considered merely the law of recipro- city ; that is, the law which prevents our interference with those means of happiness which belong to our neighbor, from the fact that they are the gift of God to him. But it is manifest that this is not the only law of our present con- stitution. Besides being obliged to abstain from doing wrong to our neighbor, we are also obliged to do him good ; and a large part of our moral probation actually comes under this law. The law of benevolence, or the law which places us under obligation to be the instruments of happiness to those who have no claim upon us on the ground of reciprocity, is manifestly indicated by the circumstances of our constitution. 1. We are created under a constitution in which we are of necessity dependent upon the benevolence of others. Thus we are all exposed to sickness, in which case we become perfectly helpless, and when, were it not for the kindness of others, we must perish. We grow old, and by age lose the power of supporting ourselves. Were benevolence to be withdrawn, many of the old would die of want. The various injuries, arising from accident as well as from disease, teach us the same lesson. And, besides, a world in which every individual is subject to death, must abound with widows and orphans, who, deprived by the hand of God of their only means of support, must frequently either look for sustenance and protection to those on whom they have no 370 GENERAL OBLIGATION AND claim by the law of reciprocity, or they must die. Now, as we live under a constitution in which these things are of daily occurrence, and many of them by necessity belonging to it, and as we are all equally liable to be in need of assistance, it must be the design of our Creator that we should, under such circumstances, help each other. 2. Nor do these remarks apply merely to the necessity of physical support. Much of the happiness of man depends upon intellectual and moral cultivation. But it is generally the fact, that those who are deprived of these means of happiness are ignorant of their value ; and would, therefore, remain for ever deprived of them, were they not awakened to a conviction of their true interests by those who have been more fortunate. Now, as we ourselves owe our intellectual happiness to the benevolence, either near or more remote, of others, it would seem that an obligation was imposed upon us to manifest our gratitude by extending the olessings which we enjoy, to those who are destitute of them. We frequently cannot requite our actual benefactors, but we always may benefit others less happy than ourselves ; and thus, in a more valuable manner, promote the welfare of the whole race to which we belong. 3. This being manifestly an obligation imposed upon us by God, it cannot be affected by any of the actions of men ; that is, we are bound by the law of benevolence, irrespective of the character of the recipient. It matters not though he be ungrateful, or wicked, or injurious ; this does not affect the obligation under which we are placed by God, to treat our neighbor according to the law of benevolence. Hence, in all cases, we are bound to govern ourselves, not by the treatment which we have received at his hands, but accord- ing to the law by which God has directed our intercourse with him to be governed. And yet more. It is evident that many of the virtues most appropriate to human nature, are called into exercise only by the miseries or the vices of others. How could there be sympathy and mercy, were there no suffering ? How could there be patience, meekness, and forgiveness, were there no injury ? Thus we see, that a constitution which involves, bv necessity, suffering, and the obligation to DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 371 relieve it, is that which alone is adapted to the perfection of our moral character in our present state. This law of our moral constitution is abundantly set forth in the Holy Scriptures. It is needless here to speak of the various passages in the Old Testament which enforce the necessity of mercy and charity. A single text from our Savior's Sermon on the Mount will be sufficient for my purpose. It is found Luke vi, 32 36, and Matthew v, 43 48. I quote the passage from Luke : " If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye ? for sinners also love those that love them. And if ye do good to those that do good to you, what thank have ye ? for sinners also do even the same. And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye ? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again ; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest, for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Be ye, therefore, merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful." In Matthew it is said, " Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that de- spitefully use you and persecute you ; that ye may be the children of (that is, that ye may imitate,) your Father which is in heaven, for he maketh his sun to rise upon the evil and upon the good, and sendeth rain upon the just and upon the unjust." The meaning of this precept is obvious from the context. To be merciful, is to promote the happiness of those who have no claim upon us by the law of reciprocity, and from whom we can hope for nothing by way of remuneration. We are to be merciful, as our Father who is in heaven is merciful. 1. God is the independent source of happiness to every thing that exists. None can possibly repay him, and yet his bounty is unceasing. All his perfections are continually employed in promoting the happiness of his creation. Now, we are commanded to be imitators of him ; that is, to employ all our powers, not for our own gratification, but for 372 GENERAL OBLIGATION ANI> the happiness of others. We are to consider this not as an onerous duty, but as a privilege ; as an opportunity con- ferred upon us of attaining to some resemblance to the Fountain and Author of all excellence. 2. This precept teaches us that our obligation is not altered by the character of the recipient. God sends rain on the just and on the unjust, and causeth his sun to shine on the evil and on the good. " God commendeth his love to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." In imitation of this example, we are commanded to do good to, and promote the happiness of, the evil and the wicked. We are to comfort them when they are afflicted ; to relieve them when they are sick ; and specially, by all the means in our power, to strive to reclaim them to virtue. We are not, however, to give a man the means of breaking the laws of God ; as to furnish a drunkard with the means of in- temperance : this would be to render ourselves partakers of his sin. What is here commanded is merely the relieving his misery as a suffering human creature. 3. Nor is our obligation altered by the relation in which the recipient may stand to us. His being our enemy in no manner releases us from obligation. Every wicked man is the enemy of God ; yet God bestows even, upon such, the most abundant favors. " God so loved the world, that he sent his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, bin have everlasting life." Jesus Christ spent his life in acts of mercy to his bitterest enemies. He died praying for his murderers. So we are commanded to love our enemies, to overcome evil with good, and to follow the example of St. Paul, who declares to the Corinthians, " I desire to spend and be spent for you ; though the more abundantly I love you, the less I be loved." In a word, God teaches us in the Holy Scriptures, that all our fellow-men are his creatures as well as ourselves ; and, hence, that we are not only under obligation, under all circumstances, to act just as he shall command us, but that we are specially under obligation to act thus to our fellow-men, who are not only our brethren, but who are also under his special protection. He declares that they DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 373 are all his children ; that, by showing mercy to them, we manifest our love to him; and that this manifestation is the most valuable, when it is the most evident that we are influenced by no other motive than love to him. Shakspeare has treated this subject very beautifully in the following passages : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown. His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above the sceptred sway. It is enthroned in the heart of kings. It is an attribute of God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. Mer. of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1 Alas! alas! Why all the souls that are, were forfeit once ; And He that might the advantage best have took, Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, who is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? Measure for Measure, Act 2, Scene 2. The Scriptures enforce this duty upon us for several reasons : 1. From the example of God. He manifests himself to us as boundless in benevolence. He has placed us under a constitution in which we may, at humble distance, imitate him. This has to us all the force of law, for we are surely under obligation to be as good as we have the knowledge and the ability to be. And as the goodness of God is specially seen in mercy to the wicked and the injurious, by the same principles we are bound to follow the same example. 2. We live, essentially and absolutely, by the bounty and forbearance of God. It is meet that we should show the same bounty and forbearance to our fellow-men. 3. Our only hope of salvation is in the forgiveness of God of that God whom we have offended more than we can adequately conceive. How suitable is it, then, th\\t we forgive the little offences of our fellow-men against us \ 32 374 GENERAL OBLIGATION AND Our Savior illustrates this most beautifully in his parable of the two servants, Matthew, xviii, 23 35. 4. By the example of Christ, God has shown us what is that type of virtue, which, in human beings, is most accept- able in his sight. This was an example of perfect forbear- ance, meekness, benevolence and forgiveness. Thus, we are not only furnished with the rule, but also with the ex- emplification of the manner in which the rule is to be kept. 5. These very virtues, which are called forth by suffer- ing from the wickedness and injury of our fellow-men, are those which God specially approves, and which he declares essential to that character which shall fit us for heaven. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the meek, blessed are the peace-makers, &tc. A thousand such passages might easily be quoted. 6. God has declared that our forgiveness with him de- pends upon our forgiveness of others. " If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father, who is in aeaven, forgive you your trespasses." " He shall have judgment without mercy, that showeth no mercy ; but mercy rejoiceth against judgment ;" that is, a merciful man rejoices, or is confident, in the view of the judgment day. If it be asked, What is the Christian limit to benevolence, I answer, that no definite rule is laid down in the Scrip- tures, but that merely the principle is inculcated. All that we possess is God's, and we are under obligation to use it all as He wills. His will is that we consider every talent as a trust, and that we seek our happiness from the use of it, not in self-gratification, but in ministering to the happi- ness of others. Our doing thus he considers as the evi- dence of our love to him ; and therefore he fixes no definite amount which shall be abstracted from our own immediate a ourr.es of happiness for this purpose, but allows us to show our consecration of all to him, just as fully as we please. If this be a privilege, and one of the greatest privileges, of our present state, it would seem that a truly grateful heart would not ask how little, but rather how much, may I do to testify my love for the God who preserves me, and the Savior who has redeemed me. And, inasmuch as our love to God is more evidently dis- DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 375 played in kindness and mercy to the wicked and the injuri- ous than to any others, it is manifest that we are bound, by this additional consideration, to practise these virtues toward them, in preference to any others. And hence we see that benevolence is a religious act, in just so far as it is done from love to God. It is lovely, and respectable, and virtuous, when done from sympathy and natural goodness of disposition. It is pious, only when done from love to God. 376 CHAPTER SECOND. OF BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAPPY. A MAN may be simply unhappy from either his physical or his intellectual condition. We shall consider these separately. SECTION I. UNHAPPiNESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. The occasions of unhappiness from this cause, are simple poverty, or the mere want of the necessities and conveniences of life ; and sickness and decrepitude, either alone, or when combined with poverty. 1. Of poverty. Simple poverty, or want, so long as a human being has the opportunity of labor sufficiently pro- ductive to maintain him, does not render him an object of charity. " If a man will not work, neither shall he eat," is the language no less of reason than of revelation. If a man be indolent, the best discipline to which he can be subjected, is, to suffer the evils of penury. Hence, all that we are required to do in such a case, is, to provide such a person with labor, and to pay him accordingly. This is the greatest kindness, both to him and to society. 2. Sometimes, however, from the dispensations of Provi- dence, a human being is left so destitute that his labor is insufficient to maintain him. Such is frequently the case with widows and orphans. This forms a manifest occasion for charity. The individuals have become, by the dispen- UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 377 sation of God, unable to help themselves, and it is both our duty and our privilege to help them. 3. Sickness. Here the ability to provide for ourselves is taken away, and the necessity of additional provision is created. In such cases, the rich stand frequently in need of our aid, our sympathy, and our services. If this be the case with them, how much more must it be with the poor, from whom, the affliction which produces suffering, takes away the power of providing the means necessary for alleviating it ! It is here, that the benevolence of the gospel is peculiarly displayed. Our Savior declares, " inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me." Bishop Wilson, on this passage, has the following beautiful remark : " ' Inasmuch ' (as often) ; who, then, would miss any occasion ? * The least ; ' who, then, would despise any object ? l To me ; ' so that, in serving the poor, we serve Jesus Christ." 4. Age also frequently brings with it decrepitude of body, if not imbecility of mind. This state calls for our sympathy and assistance, and all that care and atten- tion which the aged so much need, and which it is so suit- able for the young and vigorous to bestow. The above are, I believe, the principal occasions for the exercise of benevolence towards man's physical sufferings. We proceed to consider the principles by which our benev- olence should be regulated. These have respect both to the recipient and to the benefactor. I. Principles which relate to the recipient. It is a law of our constitution, that every benefit which God confers upon us, is the result of labor, and generally of labor in advance ; that is, a man pays for what he re- ceives, not after he has received it, but before. This rule is universal, and applies to physical, intellectual, and moral benefits, as will be easily seen upon reflection. Now, so universal a rule could not have been established without both a good and a universal reason ; and, hence, we find, by experience, that lafior, even physical labor, is necessary to the healthful condition of man, as a physical, an intellectual, and a moral being. And, hence, it is evi- dent that the rule is just as applicable to the poor as to the 32* 378 UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. rich. Or to state the subject in another form : Labor is either a benefit or a curse. If it be a curse, there can be no reason why every class of men should not bear that portion of the infliction which God assigns to it. If it be a benefit, there can be no reason why every man should not enjoy his portion of the blessing. And, hence, it will follow that our benevolence should cooperate with this general law of our constitution. 1. Those who are poor, but yet able to support them- selves, should be enabled to do so by means of labor, and on no other condition. If they are too indolent to do this, they should suffer the consequences. 2. Those who are unable to support themselves wholly, should be assisted only in so far as they are thus unable. Because a man cannot do enough to support himself, there is no reason why he should do nothing. 3. Those who are unable to do any thing, should have every thing done for them which their condition requires. Such are infants, the sick, the disabled, and the aged. Benevolence is intended to have a moral effect upon the recipient, by cultivating kindness, gratitude, and universal benevolence among all the different classes of men. That mode of charity is therefore most beneficial to its ob- ject, which tends, in the highest degree, to cultivate the kinder and better feelings of his nature. Hence, it is far better for the needy, for us to administer alms ourselves, than to employ others to do it for us. The gratitude of the recipient is but feebly exercised by the mere fact of the relief of his necessities, unless he also have the oppor- tunity of witnessing the temper and spirit from which the charity proceeds. II. Principles which relate to the benefactor. The Christian religion considers charity as a means of moral cultivation, specially to the benefactor. It is always, in the New Testament, classed with prayer, and is gov- erned essentially by the same rules. This may be seen from our Savior's Sermon on the Mount. Hence, 1. That method of charity is always the best which calls into most active exercise the virtues of self- denial and personal sacrifice, as they naturally arise from UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 379 kindness, sympathy and charity, or universal love to God and man. And, on the contrary, all those modes of benev- olence must be essentially defective, in which the distresses of others are relieved, without the necessary exercise of these virtues. 2. As charity is a religious service, and an important means of cultivating love to God, and as it does this in pro- portion as all external and inferior motives are withdrawn, it is desirable, also, that, in so far as possible, it be done secretly. The doing of it in this manner removes the motives derived from the love of applause, and leaves us simply those motives which are derived from love to God. Those modes of benevolence which are, in their nature, the farthest removed from human observation, are, cateris paribus, the most favorable to the cultivation of virtue, and are, therefore, always to be preferred. Hence, in general, those modes of charity are to be preferred, which most successfully teach the object to re- lieve himself, and which tend most directly to the moral benefit of both parties. And, on the contrary, those modes of charity are the worst, which are the farthest removed from such tendencies. These principles may easily be applied to some of the ordinary forms of benevolence. I. Public provision for the poor by poor laws will be found defective in every respect. 1. It makes a provision for the poor because he is poor. This, as I have said, gives no claim upon charity. 2. It in no manner teaches the man to help himself; but, on the contrary, tends to take from him the natural stimulus for doing so. 3. Hence, its tendency is to multiply paupers, vagrants, and idlers. Such have been its effects, to an appalling degree, in Great Britain ; and such, from the nature of the case, must they be every where. It is taking from the in- dustrious a portion of their earnings, and conferring them, without equivalent, upon the idle. 4. It produces no feeling of gratitude towards the bene- factor, but the contrary. In those countries where poor- rates are the highest, the poor will be found the most 380 UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. discontented and lawless, and the most inveterate against the rich. 5. It produces no moral intercourse between the parties concerned, but leaves the distribution of bounty to the hand of an official agent. Hence, what is received, is claimed by the poor as a matter of right ; and the only feeling elicited is that of displeasure, because it is so little. 6. It produces no feeling of sympathy or of compassion in the rich ; but, being extorted by force of law, is viewed as a mere matter of compulsion. Hence, every principle would decide against poor laws as a means of charity. If, however, the society undertake to control the capital of the individual, and manage it as they will, and by this management make paupers by thou- sands, I do think they are under obligation to support them. If, however, they insist upon pursuing this course, it would be better that every poor-house should be a work-house ; and that the poor-rates should always be given as the wages of some form of labor. I would not, however, be understood to decide against all public provision for the necessitous. The aged and infirm, the sick, the disabled, and the orphan, in the failure of their relatives, should be relieved, and relieved cheerfully and bountifully, by the public. I only speak of provision for the poor, because they are poor, and do not refer to provision made for other reasons. Where the circum- stances of the recipient render him an object of charity, let him be relieved, freely and tenderly. But, if he be not an object of chanty, to make public provision for him is inju- rious. II. Voluntary associations for purposes of charity. Some of the inconveniences arising from poor-laws are liable to ensue, from the mode of conducting these insti- tutions. 1.- They do not make the strongest appeal to the moral feelings of the recipient. Gratitude is much diminished, when we are benefited by a public charity, instead of a private benefactor. 2. This is specially the case, when a charity is funded ; and the almoner is merely the official organ of a distribution, UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 381 in which he can have but a comparatively trifling personal interest. 3. The moral effect upon the giver is much less than it would be, if he and the recipient were brought immediately into contact. Paying an annual subscription to a charity, has a very different effect from visiting and relieving, with our own hands, the necessities and distresses of the sick and the afflicted. I by no means, however, say that such associations are not exceedingly valuable. Many kinds of charity cannot well be carried on without them. The comparatively poor are thus enabled to unite in extensive and important works of benevolence. In many cases, the expenditure of capital, necessary for conducting a benevolent enterprise, requires a general effort. I however say, that the rich, who are able to labor personally in the cause of charity, should never leave the most desirable part of the work to be done by others. They should be their own almoners. If they will not do this, why then let them furnish funds to be distributed by others ; but let them remember, that they are losing by far the most valuable, that is, they are losing the moral benefit which God intended them to enjoy. God meant every man to be charitable as much as to be prayer- ful ; and he never intended that the one duty, any more than the other, should be done by a deputy. The same principles would lead us to conclude, what, I believe, ex- perience has always shown to be the fact, that a fund for the support of the poor of a town, has always proved a nuisance instead of a benefit. And, in general, as charity is intended to be a means of moral improvement to both parties, and specially to the benefactor, those modes of charity which do not have in view the cultivation of moral excellence, are, in this respect, essentially defective. 384 OP UNHAPPINESS FROM possessor is taught the necessity of exerting it to practical purpose, the better is it for him, and the better for society. The poets tell us much of the amount of genius which has been nipped in the bud by the frosts of adversity. This, doubtless, is true ; but let it not be forgotten that, by the law of our nature, early promise is frequently delusive. The poets do not tell us how great an amount of genius is also withered by the sun of prosperity. It is probable that a greater proportion of talent is destroyed, or rendered val- ueless, by riches than by poverty ; and the rapid mutations of society, I think, demonstrate this to be the fact. The same principles will, in substance, apply to the case in which, for a particular object, as for the promotion of religion, it is deemed expedient to increase the proportion of professionally educated men. In this, as in every other instance, if we would be truly useful, our charities must be governed by the principles which God has marked out in the constitution of man. The general principle of God's government is, that, for all valuable possessions, we must render a consideration ; and experience has taught, that it is impossible to vary from this rule, without the liability of doing injury to the recipient. The reason is obvious ; for we can scarcely, in any other manner, injure another so seriously, as by lead- ing him to rely on any one else than himself, or to feel that the public are under obligations to take charge of him. Hence, charity of this sort should be governed by the following principles : 1. The recipient should receive no more than is neces- sary, with his own industrious exertions, to accomplish the object. 2. To loan money is better than to give it. 3. It should be distributed in such manner as most successfully to cultivate the good dispositions of both parties. Hence, private and personal assistance, when practica- ble, has some advantages over that derived from associa- tions. And, hence, such supervision is always desirable, as will restrict the charity to that class of persons for whom it was designed, and as will render it of such a nature, INTELLECTtkL CONDITION. 385 that those of every other class would be under the least possible temptation to desire it. And, in arranging the plan of such an association, it should always be borne in mind, that the sudden change in all the prospects of a young man's life, which is made by setting before him the prospect of a pi'of3Jsional education, is one of the severest trials of human virtue. Public provision for scientific education, does not come under the head of benevolence. Inasmuch, however, as the cultivation of science is advantageous to all classes of a community, it is for the interest of the whole that it be cultivated. But the means of scientific education, as phil- osophical instruments, libraries, and buildings, could never be furnished by instructors, without rendering this kind of education so expensive as to restrict it entirely to the rich. It is, therefore, wise for a community to make these pro- visions out of the common stock, so that a fair opportunity of improvement may be open to all. When, however, the public fails to discharge this duty, it is frequently, with great patriotism and benevolence, assumed by individuals. I know of no more interesting instances of expansive benevo- lence, than those in which wealth is appropriated to the noble purpose of diffusing over all coming time, " the light of science and the blessings of religion." Who can esti- mate the blessings which the founders of Oxford and Cam- bridge universities have conferred upon the human race ! 33 ass CHAPTER THIRD. BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. WE now come to treat of a form of benevolence, in which other elements are combined. What is our duty to our fellow-men who are wicked 1 A wicked man is, from the nature of the case, unhappy. He is depriving himself of all the pleasures of virtue ; he is giving strength to those passions, which, by their un- governable power, are already tormenting him with insati- able and ungratified desire ; he is incurring the pains of a guilty conscience here, and he is, in the expressive language of the Scriptures, " treasuring up wrath, against the day of wrath and of righteous indignation." It is manifest, then, that no one has stronger claims upon our pity, than such a fellow-creature as this. So far, then, as a wicked man is miserable or unhappy, he is entitled to our pity, and, of course, to our love and benevolence. But this is not all. He is also wicked ; and the proper feeling with which we should contemplate wickedness, is that of disgust, or moral indignation. Hence, a complex feeling in such a case naturally arises that of benevolence, because he is unhappy ; and, that of moral indignation, because he is sinful. These two sentiments, however, in no manner conflict with, but on the contrary, if properly understood, strengthen each other. The fact of a fellow-creature's wickedness, affects not our obligation to treat him with the same benevolence as would be demanded in any other case. If he is necessi- tous, or sick, or afflicted, or ignorant, our duty to relieve, and sympathize with, and assist, and teach him, are the same as though he were virtuous. God sends his rain on the evil and on the good. But especially, as the most alarming source of his mis- BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. 387 ery is his moral character, the more we detest his wicked- ness, the more strongly would benevolence urge us to make every effort in our power to reclaim him. This, surely, is the highest exercise of charity ; for virtue is the true solace against all the evils incident to the present life, and it is only by being virtuous that we can hope for eternal felicity. We are bound, then, by the law of benevolence, to labor to reclaim the wicked : 1. By example, by personal kindness, by conversation, and by instructing them in the path of duty, and persuading them to follow it. 2. As the most efficacious mode of promoting moral ref- ormation, yet discovered, is found to be the inculcation of the truths of the Holy Scriptures ; it is our imperative duty to bring these truths into contact with the consciences of men. This duty is, by our Savior, imposed upon all his disciples : " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gos- pel to every creature." 3. As all men are our brethren, and as all men equally need moral light, and as experience has abundantly shown, that all men will be both wicked and unhappy without it, this duty is binding upon every man towards the whole human race. The sentiments of Dr. Johnson on this sub- ject, in his letter on the translation of the Scriptures into the Gaelic language, are so apposite to my purpose, that I beg leave to introduce them here, though they have been so frequently published. " If obedience to the will of God be necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will ne- cessary to obedience, I know not how he that withholds this knowledge, or delays it, can be said to love his neighbor as himself. He that voluntarily continues in ignorance is guilty of all the crimes which that ignorance produces ; as, to him that should extinguish the tapers of a light-house, might be justly imputed the calamities of shipwrecks. Christianity is the highest perfection of humanity ; and as no man is good but as he wishes the good of others, no man can be good in the highest degree who wishes not to others the largest measures of the greatest good." Life, Azino 1766. We see, then, that, in so far as wicked men are by their 388 BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. wickedness miserable, benevolence renders it our duty to reclaim them. And to such benevolence the highest re- wards are promised. " They that turn many to righteous- ness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever." But this is not all. If we love our Father in heaven, it must pain us to see his children violating his just and holy laws, abusing his goodness, rendering not only themselves but also his other children miserable, and exposing themselves and others to his eternal displeasure. The love of God would prompt us to check these evils, and to teach our brethren to serve, and love, and reverence our common Father, and to become his obedient children, both now and for ever. Nor is either of these sentiments inconsistent with the greatest moral aversion to the crime. The more hateful to us is the conduct of those whom we love, the more zealous will be our endeavors to bring them back to virtue. And surely the more we are sensible of the evil of sin against God, the more desirous must we be to teach his creatures to love and obey him. The perfect exemplification of both of these sentiments is found in the character of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. While, in all his conduct and teachings, we observe the most intense abhorrence of every form of moral evil, yet we always find it combined with a love for the happiness, both temporal and spiritual, of man; which, in all its bear- ings, transcends the limits of finite comprehension. This is the example which God has held forth for our imitation. It would be easy to show that the improvement of the moral character of our fellow-men is also the surest method of promoting their physical, intellectual, and social hap- piness. 389 CHAPTER FOURTH. BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS THE cases to be considered here are three : I. Where injury is committed by an individual upon an individual. II. Where injury is committed by an individual upon society. III. Where injury is committed by a society upon a society. I. Where an injury is committed by an individual upon an individual. In this case, the offender is guilty of wickedness, and of violation of our personal rights. 1. In so far as the action is wicked, it should excite OU moral detestation, just as in the case in which wrong is done to any one else. 2. In so far as the wicked man is unhappy, he should excite our pity, and our active effort to benefit him. 3. As the cause of this unhappiness is moral wrong, it is our duty to reclaim him. 4. Inasmuch as the injury is done to us, it is our duty to forgive him. On this condition alone can we hope to be forgiven. 5. Yet more ; inasmuch as the injury is done to us, it gives us an opportunity of exercising special and peculiar virtue. It is therefore our special duty to overcome it by good ; that is, the duty of reclaiming him from wrong rests specially upon us ; and is it to be fulfilled by manifesting towards him particular kindness, and the most cheerful willingness to serve him. " Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." That is, it is our special duty, by an exhibition of peculiar benevolence, to reclaim the injurious person to virtue. 33* 390 BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. Such is plainly the teaching of the Holy Scriptures. It will require but a few words to show that this is the course of conduct indicated by the conditions of our being. 1. I think that every one must acknowledge this to be the course pointed out by the most exalted virtue. Every man's conscience testifies, that to reward evil with good is noble, while the opposite course is mean. There is nothing more strongly indicative of littleness of spirit, than revenge. 2. This mode of treating injuries has a manifest tendency to put an end to injury, and every form of ill-will : For, 1. No man can long continue to injure him, who requites injury with nothing but goodness. 2. It improves the heart of the offender, and thus not only puts an end to the injury at that particular time, but also greatly diminishes the probability of its recurrence at any subsequent time. Were this course universally pur- sued, there would be done on earth the least possible injury. 3. It improves, in the most signal manner, the offended person himself; and thus renders it less likely that he will -ever commit an injury himself. In a word, the tendency of this mode of treating an inju- rious person, is to diminish indefinitely the liability to injury, and to render all parties both happier and better. On the contrary, the tendency of retaliation is exactly the reverse. We should consider, 1. That the offender is a creature of God, and we are bound to treat him as God has commanded. Now, no treatment which we have received from another, gives us, by the law of God, any right to treat him in any other manner than with kindness. That he has violated his duty towards us and towards God, affords no reason why we should be guilty of the same crimes. 2. The tendency of retaliation is, to increase, and fos- ter, and multiply wrongs, absolutely without end. Such, we see, is its effect among savage nations. 3. Retaliation renders neither party better, but always renders both parties worse. The offended party who re- taliates, does a mean action when he might have done a noble one. BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 391 Such, then, is the scriptural mode of adjusting individual differences. II. When the individual has committed an injury against society. Such is the case when an offender has violated a law of society, and comes under its condemnation. In what way and on what principles is society bound to treat him ? 1. The crime being one which, if permitted, would greatly injure if not destroy society, it is necessary that it be prevented. Society has, therefore, a right to take such measures as will insure its prevention. This prevention may always be secured by solitary confinement. But, this being done, society is under the same obliga- tions to the offender, as the several individuals composing the society are under to him. Hence,- 2. They are bound to seek his happiness by reclaiming him ; that is, to direct all treatment of him, while under their care, with distinct reference to his moral improvement. This is the law of benevolence, and it is obligatory no less on societies than on individuals. Every one must see that the tendency of a system of prison discipline of this kind must be to diminish crime ; while that of any other system must be, and always has been, to increase it. Nor is this chimerical. The whole history of prisons has tended to establish precisely this result. Prisons which have been conducted on the principle of retaliation, have every where multiplied felons ; while those which have been conducted on the principle of rendering a prison a school of moral reformation, have, thus far, succeeded beyond even the anticipations of their friends. Such a prison is also the greatest terror to a wicked man ; and it ceases not to be so, until he becomes, at least, comparatively virtuous. The whole experience of John Howard is summed up by himself in a single sentence : " It is in vain to punish the wicked, unless you seek to reclaim them." By what I have said above, I would not be understood to deny the right of society to punish murder by death. This right, I think, however, is to be established, not by the principles of natural law, but by the command of God to Noah. The precept, in this case, seems to me to have 392 BENEVOLENCJL TOWAK.D THE INJUKIOUS. been given to the whole human race, and to be still obli- gatory. III. Where one society violates the rights of another society. The principles of the gospel, already explained, apply equally to this as to the preceding cases. 1. The individual has, by the law of God, no right to return evil for evil ; but is bound to conduct towards eveiy other individual, of what nation soever, upon the principle of charity. 2. The individual has no right to authorize society to do any thing contrary to the law of God ; that is to say, men connected in societies are under the same moral law as individuals. What is forbidden to the one is forbidden also to the other. 3. Hence, I think we must conclude that an injury is to be treated in the same manner ; that is, that we are under obligation to forgive the offending party, and to strive to render him both better and happier. 4. Hence, it would seem that all wars are contrary to the revealed will of God, and that the individual has no right to commit to society, nor society to commit to govern- ment, the power to declare war. Such, I must confess, seems to me to be the will of our Creator ; and, hence, that, to all arguments brought in favor of war, it would be a sufficient answer, that God has forbidden it, and that no consequences can possibly be con- ceived to arise from keeping his law, so terrible as those which must arise from violating it. God commands us to love every man, alien or citizen, Samaritan or Jew, as our- selves ; and the act neither of society nor of government can render it our duty to violate this command. But let us look at the arguments offered in support of war. The miseries of war are acknowledged. Its expense, at last, begins to be estimated. Its effects upon the physi- cal, intellectual, and moral condition of a nation, are de- plored. It is granted to be a most calamitous remedy for evils, and the most awful scourge that can be inflicted upon the human race. It will be granted, then, that the resort to it, if not necessary, must be intensely wicked ; and that BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 393 if it be not in the highest degree useful, it ought to be uni- versally abolished. It is also granted, that the universal abolition of war would be one of the greatest blessings that could be con- ferred upon the human race. As to the general principle, then, there is no dispute. The only question which arises is, whether it be not necessary for one nation to act upon the principle of offence and defence so long as other nations continue to do the same ? I answer, first. It is granted that it would be better for rnan in general, if wars were abolished, and all means, both of offence and defence, abandoned. Now, this seems to me to admit, that this is the law under which God has created man. But this being admitted, the question seems to be at an end ; for God never places men under circum- stances in which it is either wise, or necessary, or innocent, to violate his laws. Is it for the advantage of him who lives among a community of thieves, to steal ; or for one who lives among a community of liars, to lie? On the contrary, do not honesty and veracity, under these very circumstances, give him additional and peculiar advantages over his companions ? Secondly. Let us suppose a nation to abandon all means, both of offence and of defence, to lay aside all power of inflicting injury, and to rely for self-preservation solely upon the justice of its own conduct, and the moral effect which such a course of conduct would produce upon the consciences of men. How would such a nation pro- cure redress of grievances 1 and how would it be protected from foreign aggression ? I. Of redress of grievances. Under this head would be comprehended violation of treaties, spoliation of property, and ill-treatment of its citizens. 1 reply, 1. The very fact that a nation relied solely upon the justice of its measures, and the benevolence of its con- duct, would do more than any thing else to prevent the occurrence of injury. The moral sentiment of every com- munity would rise in opposition to injury inflicted upon the just, the kind, and the merciful. Thus, by this course, the 394 BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. probabilities of aggression are rendered as few as the nature of man will permit. 2. But suppose injury to be done. I reply, the proper appeal for moral beings upon moral questions, is not to physical force, but to the consciences of men. Let the wrong be set forth, but be set forth in the spirit of love ; and in this manner, if in any, will the consciences of men be aroused to justice. 3. But suppose this method to fail. Why, then, let us suffer the injury. This is the preferable evil of the two. Because they have injured us a little, it does not follow that we should injure ourselves much. But it will be said, what is then to become of our national honor ? I answer, first, if we have acted justly, we surely are not dishonored. The dishonor rests upon those who have done wickedly. I answer again, national honor is displayed in forbearance, in forgiveness, in requiting faithlessness with fidelity, and grievances with kindness and good will. These virtues are surely as delightful and as honorable in nations as in indi- viduals. But it may be asked, what is to prevent repeated and continued aggression ? I answer, first, not instruments of destruction, but the moral principle which God has placed in the bosom of every man. I think that obedience to the law of God, on the part of the injured, is the surest preven- tive against the repetition of injury. I answer, secondly, suppose that acting in obedience to the law of benevolence will not prevent the repetition of injury, will acting upon the principle of retaliation prevent it ? This is really the true question. The evil tempers of the human heart are al- lowed to exist, and we are inquiring in what manner shall we suffer the least injury from them ; whether by obeying the law of benevolence, or that of retaliation ? It is not necessary, therefore, to show, that, by adopting the law of benevolence, we shall not suffer at all ; but that, by adopt- ing it, we shall suffer less than by the opposite course ; and that a nation would actually thus suffer less upon the whole than by any other course, cannot, I think, be doubted by any one who will calmly reflect upon the subject. BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. 395 II. How would such a nation be protected from external attack and entire subjugation ? I answer, by adopting the law of benevolence, a nation would render such an event in the highest degree improbable. The causes of national war are most commonly, the love of plunder, and the love of glory. The first of these is rarely, if ever, sufficient to stimulate men to the ferocity necessary to war, unless when assisted by the second. And by adopting as the rule of our conduct the law of benevolence, all motive arising from the second cause is taken away. There is not a nation in Europe that could be led on to war against a harmless, just, forgiving, and defenceless people. But suppose such a case really should occur, what are we then to do ? I answer, is it certain that we can do better than suffer injury with forgiveness and love, looking up to God, who, in his holy habitation, is the Judge of the whole earth ? And if it be said, we shall then all be subjected and enslaved, I answer again, have wars prevented men from being subjected and enslaved ? Is there a nation on the continent of Europe that has not been overrun by foreign troops several times, even within the present cen- tury ? And still more, is it not most commonly the case, that the very means by which we repel a despotism from abroad, only establishes over us a military despotism at home ? Since, then, the principle of retaliation will not, with any certainty, save a country from conquest, the real question, as before, is, by obedience to which law will a nation be most likely to escape it, by the law of retaliation, or by that of benevolence ? It seems to me, that a man who will calmly reflect, will see that the advantages of war, even in this respect, are much less than they have been generally estimated. I however would by no means assert that forgiveness of injuries alone is a sufficient protection against wrong. I suppose the real protection to be active benevolence. The Scriptures teach us that God has created men, both as in- dividuals and as societies, under the law of benevolence ; and that he intends this law to be obeyed. Societies have never yet thought of obeying it in their dealings with each other; and men generally consider the allusion to it as 396 BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS. puerile. But this alters not the law of God, nor the pun- ishments which he inflicts upon nations for the violation of it. This punishment I suppose to be war. I believe aggression from a foreign nation to be the intimation from God that we are disobeying the law of benevolence, and that this is his mode of teaching nations their duty, in this respect, to each other. So that aggression seems to me in no manner to call for retaliation and injury, but rather to call for special kindness and good will. And still farther, the requiting evil with good, tends just as strongly to the cessation of all injury, in nations as in individuals. Let any man reflect upon the amount of pecuniary expen- diture, and the awful waste of human life, which the wars of the last hundred years have occasioned, and then I will ask him whether it be not evident, that the one hundredth part of this expense and suffering, if employed in the honest effort to render mankind wiser and better, would, long before this time, have banished wars from the earth, and rendered the civilized world like the garden of Eden. If this be true, it will follow, that the cultivation of a military spirit is injurious to a community, inasmuch as it aggravates the source of the evil, the corrupt passions of the human heart, by the very manner in which it attempts to correct the evil itself. I am aware that all this may be called visionary, roman- tic, and chimerical. This, however, neither makes it so, nor shows it to be so. The time to apply these epithets will be, when the justness of their application has been proved. And if it be said, these principles may all be very true, but you can never induce nations to act upon them ; I answer, If they be true, then God requires us thus to act ; and if this be the case, then that nation will be the happiest and the wisest, which is the first to obey his com- mandments. And, if it be said, that though all this be so, yet such is the present state of man, that until his social character be altered, the necessity of wars will exist ; I answer ; first, it is a solemn thing to meet the punishments which God inflicts for the transgression of his laws. And, secondly, inasmuch as the reason for this necessity arises from the social wickedness of man, we are under impera- OUR DUTY TO BRUTES. 397 tive obligations to strive to render that wickedness less ; and, by all the means in our power, to cultivate among nations a spirit of mutual kindness, forbearance, justice and benevolence. NOTE. I should be guilty of injustice to one class of my fellow-creatures, if I should close this treatise upon human duty, without a single remark upon our obligations to brutes. Brutes are sensitive beings, capable of, probably, as great degrees of physical pleasure and pain as ourselves. They are endowed with instinct which is, probably, a form of intellect inferior to our own, but which, being gener- ically unlike to ours, we are unable to understand. They differ from us chiefly in being destitute of any moral faculty. We do not stand to them in the relation of equality. " Our right is paramount, and must extinguish theirs. 3 ' We have, therefore, a right to use them to promote our comfort, and may innocently take their life, if our necessi- ties demand it. This right over them, is given to us by the revealed will of God. But, inasmuch as they, like ourselves, are the creatures of God, we have no right to use them in any other manner than that which God has permitted. They, as much as ourselves, are under his protection. We may, therefore, use them, 1. For our necessities. We are designed to subsist upon animal food ; and we may innocently slay them for this purpose. 2. We may use them for labor, or for innocent physical recreation, as when we employ the horse for draught, or for the saddle. 3. But, while we so use them, we are bound to treat them kindly, to furnish them with sufficient food, and with convenient shelter. He who cannot feed a brute well, ought not to own one. And when we put them to death, it should be with the least possible pain. 4. We are forbidden to treat them unkindly on any pre- 34 398 OUR DUTY TO BRUTES. tence, or for any reason. There can be no clearer indica- tion of a degraded and ferocious temper, than cruelty to animals. Hunting, in many cases, and horse-racing, seem to me liable to censure in this respect. Why should a man, for the sake of showing his skill as a marksman, shoot down a poor animal, which he does not need for food ? Why should not the brute, that is harming no living thing, be permitted to enjoy the happiness of its physical nature unmolested ? " There they are privileged ; and he that hurts or harms them there, is guilty of a wrong." 5. Hence, all amusements which consist in inflicting pain upon animals, such as bull-baiting, cock-fighting, Stc., are purely wicked. God never gave us power over ani- mals for such purposes, i can scarcely conceive of a more revolting exhibition of human nature, than that which is seen when men assemble to witness the misery which brutes inflict upon each other. Surely, nothing can tend more directly to harden men in worse than brutal ferocity. END. 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