IRLF MM i R CM m mmMwtiftft HHHni >?.s" A: ! /'ii' /;/.'. H I #y$/. to//;/?]'* f.i ' . '. ; l'ifVi,< ' ;,!-;/,,', <;,',< "..- wWffti/. wmm'' ', Itmml BBStt&tt Vlf ;/-:'/ ''"'-'.vdY)'!/! WMf I / '"'M <'' f '-!i' ;l '-'- - ; MmmwK waaai^iiM mMfyfiitfl y-,^-1 Tit 87 / a &n < , ' a ,.-/- ----- -;- '/- .v :'.';.. .- -.:v-v wj& r-r ;.d by Gould . Kendall "THE PRE-ADAMITE EARTH," ETC. T H I 11 D THOUSAND. BOSTON: GOULD AND LINCOLN, 59 WASHINGTON STREET. 1852. ANDOVEB : J. D. FLAGG AND W. H. WARDWELL, STEEEOTTPEBS AND PRINTERS. PREFACE. IN the Preface to the Pre- Adamite Earth," I stated that the principles or laws there adduced, and applied to the succes- sive stages of the ancient earth, would be exhibited in their his- torical development, in a short series of treatises (each treatise complete in itself) in relation to individual man, to the family, to the nation, to the Son of God, to the church which he has founded, to the revelation which he has completed, and to the future prospects of humanity. Accordingly, the principles which were there seen holding their way through the successive kingdoms of primaeval nature, are here resumed, and are exhibited in their next and higher application to individual man. On the day of man's creation it was, that law first subjectively reigned on earth. Prior to that event, the so-called laws of nature were mere modes of Divine operation, known only to the mind of the Creator. But a being had now come who could consciously stand face to face with them, could conceive of them, employ them, and ascend in homage from them to the IV PREFACE. Divine Lawgiver. In him, all these pre-existing laws were re- capitulated, and others were superadded. He himself was a system of moral government. Not only was the grand process of the Divine disclosure to be continued in man and by him, but he was so constituted that to him the entire manifestation was to be made. The laws of the Divine procedure, therefore, are here distributed into three Parts, consisting of the end aimed at ; the method of attaining it ; and the reasons for the employment of that method. The grounds for the adoption of this three-fold arrangement may be more explicitly stated thus : reverentially assuming, first, that every step of the Divine procedure is related and tending to an ultimate end ; it may be inferred, secondly, that " the only wise God " who " seeth the end from the beginning," pursues that end, not improvidently and uncertainly, but accord- ing to an all-comprehending method; and, thirdly, that the method chosen involves special reasons why it has been pre- ferred. For unless we can suppose the Divine Being to be coerced by a necessity superior to himself, or to be bound by the iron mechanism of fate, we must infer that He has intelli- gently devised, and voluntarily adopted, the entire plan of his procedure ; and if so, it follows that He has done so for reasons, or " according to the counsel of his own will." These three parts, though inseparably united, are essentially distinct. An illustration of this view may be taken from Scripture ; the heavens declare the glory of God." Here, first, the end they answer is plainly affirmed ; they declare the glory of their Creator. But, secondly, what is the method by which this end is attained ? Doubtless, ever since there has been an intelligent eye to behold them, the mere splendor, numbers, and magni- PREFACE. V tudes of the heavenly bodies, have been incessantly awakening convictions in the human mind of the " eternal power and God- head." Beyond this, however, astronomy enables us to measure those vast masses, to calculate their distances, and to determine their motions. It shows that the celestial mechanism is con- structed according to a scientifically calculated method, which is always unfolding to the observant eye ; and that, being perva- ded by laws, it is ever pointing to the Lawgiver. But why thirdly, the adoption of the special method, or particular laws, which we find in actual operation ? They cannot be shown to be necessary. No doubt, laws and properties of some kind, matter must have. But, for aught which can be shown to the contrary, the nature or form of the laws existing might have been variously modified. They exhibit signs of having been selected and instituted. What, then, if the laws of the celestial mechanism had been either indefinitely more simple and acces- sible, or more complicated and recondite, than they are ? Who does not see that, on the former hypothesis, they would have been comparatively valueless as a means of man's intellectual development, and that, on the latter, he must have remained in ignorance of all the proofs which they now exhibit of original ad- justment by a designing Mind ? If, however, the earth is to be the scene of man's mental and religious education, the existing constitution of the heavens is admirably adapted to furnish him alike with a portion of his science and of a well-reasoned natu- ral theology. And in this Divine adjustment of the laws of mind and matter, a true philosophy will recognize, at least, one reason for the actual method or mechanism of the heavens. Though only a subordinate matter, it may not be out of place to state my reasons for the space accorded, in the first Part, to VI PREFACE. the consideration of the human constitution and of natural laws. While the present volume advances only, in man's historical career, to that opening stage when first he awoke to a conscious- ness of guilt, his constitution is for all duration. All his sub- sequent history is only its externalization and exponent. Its permanence alone, therefore, might justify our prolonged con- sideration of it. But the study of it is also essential to the intelligent appreciation of much of that Divine revelation which presupposes and appeals to it ; as well as prepares the way for more effectually dealing with many of the supposed difficulties of revelation, or of showing that revelation has been unjustly burdened with them, since they belong properly to the more ancient department of human nature. Revelation only assumes them as facts already and independently existing ; but it is no more answerable for them than the old religion of Egypt was, because it built its temples and monuments on the banks of the Nile, for the mystery in which the fountains of that river are hid ; or than the Moral Law is responsible for the unsolved problems of geology and meteorology, because the Divine Law- giver appropriately uttered his voice from among the granite crags of Sinai, and aggravated the appalling splendors of the scene by piling the mountain with dark thunder-clouds. True ; the God-made man, and the God-inspired word, are two parts of one whole two compartments of one temple but he who reserves all his difficulties and questionings for the inner, shows that he has passed through the outer court blindfold. Respecting natural laws, also, I have been, incidentally, more specific and urgent than might have been deemed necessary, were it not for the conviction that the subject has not received that distinct recognition in much of our modern religious litera- PREFACE. Vli ture, which its fundamental importance requires. Reasons ex- planatory, and, to a certain extent, exculpatory, of this compar- ative neglect might, if necessary, be easily assigned ; such, for example, as the idea of thereby magnifying, by implication, the claims of God's providential administration, and of rendering additional homage to it. But one of the evil consequences has been, that some parties have been led to pursue the opposite extreme ; and that, by simply recalling attention to the course and constitution of nature, they have come to be regarded by many almost in the light of grand discoverers as peculiar benefactors of their species as possessed of a kind of know- ledge more immediately useful than any religious teaching and as being justified in silently omitting all mention of the doc- trine of an ever-active Providence, or even in indirectly pro- testing against it. The erroneous supposition appears to be, that Nature and Providence are two hostile claimants ; and that whatever importance is ceded to the one is so much homage taken from the other. The truth being, however, that the for- mer is properly opposed only to chance or an unreasoning caprice, and the latter to a blind necessity. Nature is the pri- mary utterance of Providence its first proclamation respect- ing the laws according to which it proposes to govern. But that it is neither restricted to any given natural laws, nor ulti- mately dependent on them, is evident from the fact that the his- tory of creation is a history of changes and additions unknown to all the previous course of nature ; man himself being one of the latest, the crowning addition. These topics, however, are only incidental to the main sub- ject. As to the filling up of my outline in the following pages, with what may be called the Proem of man's eventful history, Vlii PREFACE. I leave it to speak for itself; with no solicitude whatever re- specting the truth and importance of the principles involved, but with much relative to the manner in which I have ex- pounded them. CONTENTS. FIRST PART. THE DIVINE METHOD. CHAPTEE I. HOLINESS. 1, The ancient earth prepared for man. 2, Geological changes, which preceded his creation, more remarkable than those which attended it. 3, Other intelligences already existed elsewhere. 4, But man's creation of profound interest. 5, The first Law. 6, The ancient earth the scene of Divine power. 7, Of Wisdom. 8, Of Goodness, awakening the expec- tation of another disclosure. 9, Moral Government ; Holiness, Justice. 10, Will the different parts of this stage be separated by long intervals ? 11, Holiness already displayed elsewhere. 12, Will man be the occasion of a new disclosure ? 13, He may be expected first to epitomise and exhibit the preceding displays. 14, Man's constitution. 15, The image of God 1 CHAPTEE II THE PAST BEOUGHT FOEWAED. 1, The second law 2, New source of information, the Bible. 3, Char- acter of the narrative. 4, Anthropopathic. 5, Optical. 6,' Specifically relates to man. 7, Is in analogy with disciplinary character of general Divine arrangements. 8, Law illustrated ; pre-existing matter employed. 9, Time of its origination indefinitely remote. 10, Probable extent of the Mosaic chaos and creation. 11, The Edenic region and garden. 12, State of chaos. 13, The six days' work. 14, The conditions of this law further satisfied. 15, In the creation of man. 16, Antecedently improbable that man would be closely allied to preceding nature. 17, Yet he is material. 18, Organic. 19, Animal. 20, First, as to nutrition. 21, Secondly, the propagation of the species. 22, The creation of woman. 23, The unity of the species. 24, How implied in Gen. i. ii. 25, Difficulties to be expected, but diminishing. 26, Inferred from anatomy. 27, Physiology. 28, Psychology. 29, History and physical geography. 30, Comparative philology. 32, Analogy. 33, Objection from chronology answered. 34, Plurality of species involves greater difficulties. 35, The different branches of evidence unite. 36, Thirdly, Instincts. 37, Nature and man recipro- cally related. 38, Man's "foundation in the dust." 39, The probable relation of the angelic to the human economy . . . . 10 CHAPTEE HI PEOGEESSION. SECTION I. Sensation and Perception. 1, The third law. 2, Eeasons for it. 3, Man, the being to whom the Divine manifestation is to be made. 4, The Creating and the created X CONTENTS. minds must have certain things in common. 5, General proposition ; man must be placed in sensible communication with nature. 6, Certain condi- tions of sensational perception. 7, That the perception be of phenomena secondary qualities primary qualities. 9, That the intellect appre- hend the object as it is probable ground of the distinction between pri- mary and secondary qualities, in relation to man. 11, That perception be immediate representationalism and its source leads to idealism knowledge of objects direct. 15, That these conditions be uniform and constant. 16, Subjective conditions presupposed. 17, First sensational perceptions of the first man ' . 34 SECTION II. Understanding and Reflection. 1, General proposition. 2, Man must have the power of observing relations. 3, Where do they exist 1 4, Laws of the mind in thinking ? Difference between Locke and Kant. 5, Examples ; every body in space, motion in time. 6, Every phenomenon has a cause. 7, Every attribute implies a substance. 8, Secondary qualities imply externality. 9, Ex- ternal phenomena sustain relations of resemblance. 10, Means and ends, or final clauses. 11, Logic. 12, Induction. 13, Art. 14. Here is a second means of knowledge. 15, Coincidence of the objective and the sub- jective 43 SECTION III. Reason, speculative and realized. 1, General proposition ; man must have rational beliefs, which account for these relations. 2, Characteristics of such beliefs. 6, How do they arise ? 7, Order of their development distinctions between reason spe- culative and practical. 12, The form of the products of reason, as Beliefs different opinions respecting our views of the Infinite. 1 6, Number of original beliefs must include whatever truths were presupposed in creation. 19, Validity of such beliefs authority of consciousness ulti- mate for the spiritual as well as for the material. 25, Provision for the reception of Divine revelations. 26, Ground for expecting such a mental constitution. 27, The mind transcends nature. 28, Antecedents, logical and chronological. 29, The arguments a priori and a posteriori. 30, Ne- cessary and contingent truth. 31, Synthesis and analysis. 32, Co-exist- tence and successive existence. 33, Deduction. 34, Induction. 36, Nature and man proceed inversely. 40, Necessary truth brings the mind nearer to God. 41, Science becomes deductive. 42, Sense, reflection, reason, coincide with nature, man, God. 43, God descends in nature, man ascends 54 SECTION IV. Imagination. 1, General proposition. 2, The actual not the measure of the possible. 3, Imagination, how allied to the preceding faculties. 4, Distinguishable from them. 5, Works of, anticipate criticism. 6, Distinct from fancy. 7, Relates to that which might be. 8, Its sphere, the moral as well as the intellectual 81 SECTION'V. Man Emotional. 1, Necessity for emotional susceptibility. 2, Proposition. 3, Emotion, what, as compared with appetites, sensation, &c. distribution of emotion CONTENTS. XI appropriative. ll,Impartative. 18, Arrestive. 1 9, Perfective beauty and sublimity. 20, Eemedial. 21, Relational; further generalization. 22, Their relation to the great scheme. 23, Co-extensive with means of knowledge. 24, Important to cultivate them. 25, So as to be moved by objects in proportion to their importance. 26, Forming a scale of valua tion. 27, Laws of the emotions 85 SECTION VI. Man Voluntary. 1, Viewed hitherto as passive. 2, A will necessary. 3, General propo- sition. 6, Motives conditionally resistible. 10, Force of motives differing from physical causation. 11, The will itself a conditioned cause. 14, Conscious non-restraint in volition freedom an ultimate fact motives, not objective powers character and motive re-act idea of a cause first given by the. will. 21, But volitions necessarily conditioned by motives each theory errs by exclusiveness liberty of indifference ab- surd. 25, Can a particular will co-exist with a universal law ? Law and liberty co-exist in God, and, therefore, manifested in man, and analogous with it Divine and human agency compatible coincidence of the human will with the Divine essential to freedom. 30, Can man's freedom co-exist with the laws of material nature ? This makes self-dedication possible. 32, Power of the will; can call for various motives. 33, These suggest others. 34, From which it can select attention. 35, Attention increases the motive power of an object hence Belief not involuntary in what sense necessary to aid understanding. 37, Prevents distraction from other objects. 39, Voluntary acts become easier by repetition habit. 42, Muscular system given to serve the will. 44, The individual will can unite with other wills. 45, A number co-operating for good, sub- lime. 46, Even one will united with the Divine. 47, The Bible assumes all the laws of the will 100 SECTION VII. Conscience. 1, An intelligent will, a new power on earth. 3, A reflection of the Divine wilL 4, Constitutes man a person. 5, But not the only element of responsibility general proposition. 7, Twofold distribution of moral science. 8, How does man derive the notion of virtue ? 9, He univer- sally recognizes a moral quality in actions. 13, Not from human law. 14, Nor from Divine appointment. 15, Nor from his own constitution. 17, Nor as the result of intellectual intuition. 18, Judgment. 19, Asso- ciation. 22, Nor a calculation of consequences Hobbes Hume Paley Dwight. 25, Several reasons why not. 34, Conscience a dis- tinct faculty. 36, Its function. 37, Threefold. 40, Its relation to the different classes of the motives. 41, To the will. 42, Universal in rela- tion to the movements of the mind. 43, Unintermitting. 44, Supreme. 46, Influence without compulsion. 47, Its perversion within limits. 131 SECTION VlII. Language and Testimony. 1, A second mind a means of knowledge^ 2, Conditions of this know- ledge. 3, First, language, what sounds articulate signs of thought harmonizing with laws of thought mental agreement verbal agree- ment fixed. 10, Secondly, the credibility of testimony must be ascer- tainable. 11, Conditions. 17, The mind constituted to believe such. 18, Xll CONTENTS. What the origin of language. 19, Three opinions. 22, The original unity of language. 23, The primitive language. 24, Erroneous notions respecting the new-made man 156 SECTION IX. Man's Primitive Condition. 1, His selected abode. 2, Well-being provided for. 3, A Divine in- structor. 4, Opinions on this subject. 5, A second human being. 6, The institution of the sabbath. 7, The enactment of a special law. 8, Dis- closing that God is the Creator. 9, The existence of moral government. 10, The immortality of the soul. 11, Reasons for its immortality, objec- tive. 12, Subjective. 13. Judicial. 14, The death threatened. 15, Bodily dissolution falls short of it. 16, Had man not fallen, the universe of worlds was open to him. 17, God had now a son upon earth . 166 CHAPTER IV. CONTINUITY. 1, Serial character of the Adamic creation. 3, Man in chronological continuity recency of his origin. 4, Geological continuity. 5, Physio- logical limits of this idea. 6, Part of the great system . . 180 CHAPTER V. DEVELOPMENT. 1, Law of development. 2, Superiority of man's physical structure. 6, The social principle. 8, Perfection of man's perceptions exceeds the comparative perfection of his organs. 9, Relative proportion of brain in the vertebrata. 10, Embryotic and transmutation hypotheses unfounded. 12, Phrenology. 15, Distinctions between mind and matter. 24, Mind of animals instinct. 28, Human mind differs in kind and degree. 30, Man's end agrees with his constitution. 31, Develops nature, and raises its relations 185 CHAPTER VI. ACTIVITY. 1, Law of activity. 2, Movements involuntary voluntary. 4, Made necessary by man's constitution. 5, And by that of the world around him. 6, Volition incessant. 7, Activity a condition of development with the first man and in heaven 208 CHAPTER VII. RELATIONS. 1, Law of relation. 2, Relations internal and co-existent. 4, Succes- sively existent. 5, External and co-existent physical sentient re- flective rational mind to mind imaginative emotional volun- tary moral verbal to God. 19, Successively existent. 20, To God. 21, Man's relations complicated, continuous, ever-increasing, uni- versal 212 CHAPTER Vin. ORDER, 1, Law of order. 2, Illustrated physiologically. 4, By the succession in which the phenomena of intelligence are developed. 5, Knowledge is sought. 6, Principles of action appear. 7, Religion. 8, Order of the Adamic creation . .... 226 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. INFLUENCE. 1, Law of influence. 2, In pre-existing nature. 3, In man, a self- knowing and self-governing power. 5, Capable of constant increase. 6, Imprints himself on nature, and subordinates it. 7, Influence on his fellow-man. 8, With God. 9, And is himself influenced . . 230 CHAPTER X. SUBORDINATION. 1, Law of subordination. 2, Man's nature a constitution. 3, Motives, their graduated rank. 7, Corresponding rank of their external objects. 9, Supremacy of that which points to the Divine will. 10, Influence of ideas superior to that of brute force. 1 1, Moral ideas supreme. 12, Man's influence on others determined by his moving principle. 13, The loftiness of his aim. 14, The entireness of his pursuit. 15, Ranks according to his influence. 16, Law of influence, one of improvement . . . 235 CHAPTER XL OBLIGATION. 1, Law of obligation. 2, Every part of man's nature under obligation physical sentient reflective, &c. 11, Obligation progressive. 12, What he might have been, determines obligation. 13, His obligations to the objective universe. 14, As he is sentient reflective, &c. 20, To obey God, supreme. 21, From the constitution of things. 22, And, as such, suited to our nature. 23. Obligation continuous. 24, Increasing. 25, Varying. 26, Universal. 27', If violated, by him remediless. 28, De- pendence and duty of primitive man. 29, Ground of obligation . 243 CHAPTER XII. UNIFORMITY OF GENERAL LAWS. 1, Obligation presupposes Law. 2, Conformity to law of pre-existing nature. 3, Uniformity conditional. 4, Wrong distinct from guilt. 6, Consequences of guilt. 7, How man may know the natural laws under which he is placed. 8, And his moral obligation. 9, How far these laws suffice defects of natural religion. 10, Ignorance and depravity do not absolve from law. 12, Nature an instrument of moral government. 13, Not exclusive of providential superintendence .... 258 CHAPTER XIII. WELL-BEING. 1 , Law of well-being. 2, Internal conditions of, co-existent 3, Succes- sively existent. 4, Viewing man as progressive habit. 5, From habit results character. 6, Objective conditions of well-being. 9, Man the subject of moral government pain. 11, The system only partially devel- oped here punishment inheres. 13, Natural religion its office insufficiency. 16, The kind of revelation necessary. 17, Character, ulti- mately a self-formation. 18, Primal prohibition meant to teach this. 19, Man's yearning after ideal perfection. 20, His departure from it admits of infinite diversity 267 CHAPTER XIV. CONTINGENCE OR DEPENDENCE. 1, System to which man belongs dependent. 2, The time of his crea- tion. 3, His earliest locality his constitution that of the planet he XIV CONTENTS. inhabits and his knowledge. 8, With a view to his freedom. 9, His immortality, a gift. 10, Paradisiacal arrangements. 11, Danger of sup- posing himself independent provided against. 13, Man, subjectively dependent three theories. 14, Divine sustentation differs with the dif- ferent parts of man. 15, The whole an illustration of Divine Sove- reignty . 285 CHAPTER XV. ULTIMATE FACTS. 1, Ultimate facts, what ? 2, Law. what ? 3, Not equivalent to cause explains nothing. 4, Three modes of treating on ultimate facts of nature as inherent causes laws effects of a Divine Agent. 7, Nature, an ultimate fact life sensation instinct mind. 1 2, Ground of belief in external existence, ultimate the cause of man's existence charac- ter power of prayer idea of a moral quality in actions of immor- tality and of moral evil. 19, Every part of man's constitution points to an ultimate fact 295 CHAPTER XVI. NECESSARY TRUTH. 1, Relation of ultimate facts to necessary truth. 2, Necessary truth distinguished implied characterized instances of. 6, Ideas of free- dom right perfection law, &c. 10, As conscious of it, man com- munes with the Infinite mind 309 CHAPTER XVH. ANALOGY. 1, General proposition. 2, First, man, constructed on a plan. 3, His intellect related to the great system. 4, His emotions classify their objects. 5, His moral nature finds its proper objects without. 6, His well- being proportioned to the harmony of his constitution and condition. 7, Original perfection of the adjustment. 8, Secondly, the human dispensa- tion introduced like others. 9, When the earth was suited to man. 10, Without deranging nature. 11, Moral government only an advance probation. 12, Continuity of existence, not without analogies. 14, So, also, probation. 15, Possibility of failure. 16, Direct revelation no objec- tion. 17, Difficulties analogous. 18, Thirdly, universal classification, prin- ciples of order illustration characteristics. 22, Places man at the head of creation. 23, Gives every man " his own place." 24, On what grounds. 25, The final classification 314 CHAPTER XVIII. CHANGE. 1, Will man fall? 2, Will his probationary stage be succeeded by another f l 3, The law of change illustrated. 5, In relation to proba"- tionary man. 6, Probationary conditions fulfilled man free and de- pendent means of verifying both. 9, His first sin. 10, Made sensible of his dependence. 11, But is his holiness adequately illustrated ? 12, Adequately for whom? 14, Conditions of change. 15, The first inap- plicable. 16, The second fulfilled God himself satisfied. 18, The third fulfilled ...... 337 CONTENTS. XV SECOND PART. THE REASON OF THE METHOD. CHAPTER XIX. SECTION I. The reason which belongs to man's constitution, and involves his well-being. 1, Stated. 2, Method in creation essential. 3, That the objective con- ditions of science might exist. 4, The subjective. 5, That philosophy and natural theology might be possible. 6, And man's development and probation. 7, His physical adjustment, and its liabilities. 8, Sensation, and its liabilities. 9, "His power of belief on evidence, of reason, imagi- nation, speech, gesture, emotion, and their respective dangers. 15, His motives, in which the material and the spiritual are balanced the present and future one and many the limited and the unlimited. 19, Dangers of the undue development of the intellect the emotions the different classes of motives. 22, Men distributable into two classes one seeking to enlarge their freedom, the other to reduce it. 24, Every period of life on probation why nothing man's except by experience conditions of it why are his powers only thus ascertainable. 29, Conditions of the trial advantages of it folly of pushing the inquiry further . 351 SECTION II. The reason which relates to the Divine all-sufficiency, and includes man's destiny. 1, All possible creations not desirable the possible development of man makes it unnecessary. 5, Every individual, community, perio -', and branch of the human familv different. 10, Different worlds. 11, Each family, nation, age, and world, treated distinctly, and apart, yet, as a whole. 1 6. Reasons, physical, moral, and Divine. 1 7, The spiritual creation has a universal law as well as the material. 19, Universe ever receiving acces- sions. 20, Probable limit to this view. 21, Some of the conditions of a Revolution. 22, Man's wants multiplied indefinitely by the diversity of character which sin makes possible. 23, And by the perversion of very remedial interposition. 24, He may have to exhaust these possib :ities. 25, This not necessary. 26, Divine resources illustrated by every new complication. 27, Their inconceivableness. 28, While on probation, each world probably has to confine itself chiefly to its own special history. 373 SECTION III. The two-fold reason in its application to the first man. 1, He takes his place in the great system. 2, Present existence of sin assumed. 3, The first law a test of character still. 5, Implied the harmony of man's constitution with itself and with the universe. 8, The arrangement combined the minimum of liability with the maximum of advantage. 9, Reasonableness of the law three-fold adaptation. . 11, The temptation of a counterbalance. 12, The particular test selected. 14, Personal consequences of the Fall. 15, The outward act indicative of a state of mind. 16, How sin began how it depraves. 18, Deprava- tion guilt changed condition special provision withdrawn ex- emption from dissolution repealed. 23, Nothing arbitrary. 24, Effect on XVI CONTENTS. posterity. 27, Breach of moral, worse than of material law. 28, Princi pie of the probationary law universal. 29, Was evil foreseen ? could it have been prevented ? power and danger of sinning, distinct. 32, Evil, subordinated to good and to a further proof of the Divine resources. 34, God's subjective hatred to sin. 35, The great Lesson of man's trial still pursued, as a leading principle of Divine procedure . . 392 THIRD PART. THE ULTIMATE END. CHAPTER XX. SECTION I. Power. 1, Proofs of, brought forward ever increasing. 3, Man himself a power enabling him to apprehend the power of the Creator and to reason from a limited cause to the unlimited. 6, His influence over mind gives him the profoundest conception of power . . . 419 SECTION II. Wisdom. 1, Proofs of, brought forward. 2, New evidences of, in man's means of knowledge power of classification emotions will and conscience. 6, In his internal relations successively existent. 8, Various illustrations of design. 9, Estimated numerically. 10, Tests of. 11, The first man exhibited all these illustrations of. 12, Man finds his wisdom in searching after God's 422 SECTION III. Goodness. 1, Past proofs of, repeated in man, and exceeded. 2, A constitution for enjoyment ever-increasing. 4, His primitive condition corresponded activity without toil a help-meet a sabbath progressive develop- ment consulted Divine instruction exemption from death. 10, Pro- bation, benevolent its result made the occasion of good. 12, As mere proof of, all this in excess prospective^, greater still . . 428 SECTION IV. Holiness. 1, Already proved, by another race. 2, In addition, man organized for virtue. 3, His instincts subservient to it his reason himsf 1 a self- judicature virtue made pleasurable and progressive. 8, External arrangements correspond physical instinctive social sympathetic infantine tasteful useful. 1 7, His mind an image of the Divine subject to limits. 19, His probation illustrative of Divine holiness and his failure and its results. 22, Angelic conceptions of that holiness. 23, Possible conjunction of the two economies conjecture falls short of reality. 25, Man may well wait for results. His first crisis . 436 NOTE 453 INDEX 460 FIRST PART. THE DIVINE METHOD. CHAPTER L HOLINESS. 1. MAN was not made for the earth; the earth, from the first, had been preparing for man, and we are to suppose that now, at length, the hour of his creation had arrived. Often, we believe, since the material of the earth was at first called into existence, had vast spaces on its surface become " formless and waste," and " darkness " had hung " on the face of the deep." And as often had the creative will recalled it from chaos r and restored it to order and beauty. But even each of these suc- cessive wrecks of the earth had looked on beyond itself, and had a respect to the coming of man ; and each of the new creations which followed had formed part of a system of means of which he was to be the subordinate end. For him, volcanic fires had fused and crystallized the granite, and piled it up into lofty table-lands. The never-wearied water had, for him, worn and washed it down into extensive valleys and plains of vege- table soil. For him, the earth had often vibrated with electrical shocks, and had become interlaced with rich metallic veins. Ages of comparative quiet had followed each great revolution of nature, during some of which the long-accumulating vege- tables of preceding periods were, for him, transmuted into stores of fuel ; the ferruginous deposits of primeval waters were becoming iron ; and successive races of destroyed animals were changed into masses of useful limestone. The interior of the 1 2 MAN. earth had become a store-house, in which everything necessary was laid up for his use, in order that, when the time should come for him to open and gaze on its treasures on "the blessings of the deep that lieth under,"* on "the chief things of the ancient mountains, and the precious things of the lasting hills," f he might gratefully recognize the benevolent foresight of the Being who had prepared, selected, and placed them there! Many of those great facts which we are accustomed to regard as alone constituting the " laws of nature," because the uniformity of their operation extends through ages of duration, had repeatedly given place for a time, and had owned their sub- jection to a principle more comprehensive still the principle that, not the uniformity of ten thousand years, but the change which then breaks up that uniformity, is the grand controlling principle of the universe, itself, perhaps, of uniform recur- rence. And, for him, many of these successive changes of the earth had been commemorated by geological monuments, which, when uncovered and deciphered, should convince him that all its revolutions had been conducted under the superintending eye of Infinite Wisdom. All this may be said to have taken place for him ; not, indeed, exclusively and supremely, but in the sense that, as every end to be answered by creation must be supposed to be included in the Divine purpose, and as the coming of man was calculated to answer the highest end at that time attained, every preceding end may be regarded as a means in order to its attainment. 2. The appearance of man on the terrestrial stage, therefore, is to be regarded as the great event of the Adamic creation. Geologically speaking, more remarkable physical changes and organic creations had signalized preceding epochs. The out- burst of vegetable life in the carboniferous series, and the ani- mal forms of the mammaliferous period, attest creative interpo- sitions on a larger scale than any of the same kind which have distinguished subsequent epochs. 3. And there is ground to believe also, that while the earth, as the scene of inorganic change, of organic life, and of animal existence, had, for unknown ages, exhibited successive displays of power, and wisdom, and goodness, other parts of the universe were not unvisited by sublime disclosures of Divine Perfection. Reasoning from analogy, philosophy assumes the probability ih&t the heavenly bodies are not all uninhabited. From the * Gen. xlix. 25. t Deut xxxiii. 15. HOLINESS. 3 opening pages of Revelation we are led to infer that, prior to the creation of man, an order of intelligent beings had been called into existence, whose generic name, as known to us, is "angels" a name descriptive, not of nature, but of office. And the nature of their connection with the system to which man belongs will hereafter form the subject of our considera- tion. For the present, we have to regard his creation as the introduction of a new stage of the Divine procedure as the completion and crown of all the preceding stages of the terres- trial economy. 4. Let us imagine, as an analogous case, that one of the planets on which, in the stillness of evening, our eye has often rested, and which for untold ages has been pursuing its silent course through the heavens, were about to become, for the first time, the habitation not of existence from other worlds but of a new race of intelligent beings ; creatures of a kind hitherto unknown to the universe of God ; that they are to go on mul- tiplying for ages ; that, as their history advances, it is to be marked by unprecedented events ; to be the means of devel- oping new principles of the Divine government, new aspects of the Divine character ; and that the first of the race about to be created, is to sustain, in some way, a relation to all that shall follow, which shall shed a peculiar influence on the whole, through all duration. The knowledge of such an event impend- ing there, would be calculated to draw to it the interest, and to rivet on it the attention of the universe. Yet such was the pro- found interest however unexciting the subject may have become to us through familiarity which attached to the intro- duction of the first man upon the earth. 5. In proceeding to expound the sources of this interest, we propose to take up the laws of the Divine Manifestation in the same order as that in which they were illustrated in the trea- tise on " The Pre- Adamite Earth," and we therefore begin with the great principle that " every divinely originated object and event is a result, the supreme and ultimate reason of which is in the Divine nature." 6. In our first imaginary visit to the ancient earth, we beheld, in the origination of matter and its planetary formation, an expression of Power. The bare existence of the new dependent substance presupposed the existence of the independent and infinite Substance. The laws which the planetary motions exhibited were His laws, and proclaimed Him to be " the God of order." The first objective effect the creation of matter 4 MAN. irresistibly awoke the conviction of the First Cause ; it was the solemn utterance of the Deity on causation. We beheld the universe of matter in motion : it was the great practical lesson of the Deity on dynamics the doctrine of force producing motion. Every idea which can be supposed to have been then truly suggested and represented, expressed a spiritual corres- pondence, infinitely greater, in the Divine Creator. But that which the whole every property of matter, every process by which its properties were developed, every law which regulated these processes, every elementary particle, and every revolving planet combined pre-eminently to indicate, was, the all-suffi- ciency of the Power of God. 7. All this, however, was only the play or conflict of inor- ganic matter. Each form we beheld was lifeless, and each motion compelled, or impressed by a force from without. After the lapse of an incalculable period, therefore, we sup- posed ourselves permitted to revisit the earth, in the expectation that, during the mighty interval, another fiat had gone forth, and another effect had been produced as wonderful as the first, and by means of it. And, imagining ourselves in the situation of beings to whom nothing of the kind had been previously disclosed, we beheld in the new and sacred principle of organic Life, in which innumerable pre-existing phenomena were now for the first time employed as means, for the development of this mysterious principle as an end, the display of Wisdom. We admitted, indeed, that whatever illustrations of taste in arrangement, elegance in form, beauty in color, and majesty in magnitude and waving motion, the botanical kingdom now for the first time exhibited, were to be regarded as indications of the Divine complacency in the graceful, the beautiful, and the sublime. As effects, they pointed to correspondences infinitely greater in their Cause. But, even the manner in which each of these effects is produced, is a proclamation of the amazing wisdom of the Maker. Nor could we have looked intelligently on this new, organized, living kingdom of nature, when first it came into existence, without feeling that we were in the pres- ence of a Wisdom to us unlimited. 8. A survey of this advanced stage of the Divine operations prepared us to expect, that, in the revolution of ages, the period might come when forms of organized being might not only live, but move, and be happy. Accordingly, another supposed visit to the scene of our meditations being permitted to us, a spec- tacle opened to our view which compelled us to exclaim, " How HOLINESS. 5 great is his Goodness ! " In the introduction of animal life, we beheld a being constructed for enjoyment ; each of its move- ments yielding it gratification ; each of its senses an inlet to pleasure ; and the whole preparing the way for greater enjoy- ment still, and finding happiness in the occupation. If the reason for the existence of this kind of life is to be sought in the Divine Creator, so also must be the reason of its enjoyment. A& every effect must be, in some sense, like its cause, the origi- nation of even a single creature would be, not indeed formally, but virtually, a manifestation of some property of the Divine Nature. But here was not merely an individual animal de- signed for enjoyment, nor a single species, but a world a suc- cession of worlds, filled with animal enjoyment. What fact of the Divine Creator could this display be supposed to manifest, but that He, " the Happy God," is good, or delights to impart happiness ! And as we took our last look at the Pre- Adamite Earth, we felt convinced that no intelligent being could have cast back a mental glance to the remote antiquity when the first creative fiat went forth, and then have called before his mind the long series of creation on creation, with extended intervals between, which had since then taken place, without admitting, long before he had arrived at the close of his retrospection, the all-sufficiency of God for the indefinite enlargement and con- tinuance of similar manifestations ; and that long before he had deciphered every symbol, and bowed at every altar, sacred to the Perfections already manifested, he would have been pre- pared for the unveiling of another aspect of the Divine char- acter. 9. But what will that next perfection be ? If Power, Wis- dom, and Goodness are not to perpetuate their manifestation by multiplying physical creations alone, some other perfection must now appear which shall render the continuation of such additions to the mere material world unnecessary. And if all which Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness have done already is not to exist in vain as a revelation of God to the creature, a being must yet be formed capable of recognizing these per- fections in what they have already done. The same reason which made it infinitely desirable that the glory of God should be made objective as all-sufficiency, clearly implied that, when displayed, there would be beings to understand it That race, indeed, whenever it shall arrive, may be expected, in harmony with what we have found to be an already established law of the- manifestation, to assume into its nature, under certain qual- 1* 6 MAN. ifications, the distinguishing principles of the physical, the organic, and the animal creations which have preceded it, and thus to form a part of the actual means of the manifestion. But the great end and object of the whole require, in the case supposed, that the new race of creatures, besides displaying the Power, Wisdom, and Goodness of God, in common with the pre-existing creations, should be intelligent beings, capable of understanding the display. Such a capability will, of course, be associated with the power of appreciating what is under- stood of the manifestation; for to understand, and yet not to appreciate it, would be to defeat the very design of the mani- festation. But the system requires that beings capable of understanding and appreciating the Divine perfections, and who are thus constituted a part of the manifestation, should be capa- ble also of consciously and voluntarily promoting the objects of the great system, and should be held responsible for under- standing, appreciating, and intentionally promoting it, to the utmost extent of their means. Now this is only saying that man, besides having a physical, organic, and animal nature, will be also an intelligent, moral, and accountable being, and this will bring to light the moral perfection of the Deity that Holiness of nature, or subjective excellence, by which He has complacency in all moral goodness ; and that Justice, or objec- tive excellence, by which he exhibits His holiness in retributive acts. In other words, the earth, sooner or later, will become the scene of moral government. 10. But as mighty intervals have separated the stages of the Divine Procedure hitherto, will similar intervals separate the coming manifestations? Will holiness, after imprinting its image on man, reign on earth, and rejoice in its likeness, for an unaccountable period, before punitive Justice follows and kindles its fires ? Will Justice then burn for ages, converting earth into a place of punishment, before Mercy comes, if it come at all, to soothe and to save ? Will all these perfections be dis- played in the history of the same race ? Or, will there be a race for the display of Holiness, to be succeeded, when re- moved, perhaps, nearer to the palace of the Great King, by a second race for the display of Holiness and penal Justice? And are these again to be succeeded, when removed and ban- ished afar from God, by a third race for the display of Holi- ness, Justice, and some other attribute say, Mercy ? Or have either of these attributes been elsewhere displayed already? displayed by beings who, though not inhabitants of this world, HOLINESS. 7 are yet members of the great system of manifestation, of which this world, and all that it contains, form a part ? And if so, is it not in harmony with all the past history of the Divine con- duct to expect that the introduction of the new race, essentially differing from all the past, will involve, or be attended with, a new manifestation ? that, besides the Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, and Holiness, and Justice of God, already dis- played, the history of man will be made the occasion of a new display of the Divine Character ? 11. That these are not unimportant nor irrelevant questions is evident, for God has answered them both in His works and in His word. A race of angelic beings, as already intimated, had come on the field of the Divine manifestation bright with the lustre of holiness. Some, but only some of them, foiling to keep their first estate, (wherever and whatever that may have been,) occasioned the manifestation, for the first time, of the Divine Justice. 12. Now, let it be supposed that, on our revisiting the earth, we had known this ; that, in one part of the universe, Holiness was glowing with more than its original radiance ; and that, in another part, the punitive Justice of God still maintained its awful terrors. On the principle of progressive manifestation we should have expected that, if a new race is to be formed, and if another attribute remains to be developed, that new race will be made the medium of its revelation. Coming as that new race will on the stage of Divine Procedure, at a period when Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, and Holiness, and Justice, are already made manifest, we might have expected that the great design of another stage of creation will be the display of another Divine perfection. 13. But, according to that law of creation already ascertained, \thich requires that each successive addition shah 1 unite with all that precedes by embodying its elements, and thus display in its own individual nature all the perfections which are already manifested, we may expect that all the Divine perfec- tions already known will be exhibited again, in the history of man, before the new display will take place, and preparatory to it in other words, that the coming creation, besides its own peculiar additions, will be an epitome of all that has gone before. The impending stage of the Divine Procedure, then, may be expected to exhibit the attributes of Power, and Wis- dom, and Goodness, and Holiness ; and of these, Holiness, as expressed in a system of Moral Government, may be looked 8 MAN. for as forming the grand characteristic of the new economy as compared with all which the earth has yet exhibited. 14. Now, supposing it had been permitted as to revisit the earth immediately after the creation of man and his introduction into Eden, and that the nature of his new constitution had been disclosed to us, as well as the nature of his relations to the universe, what a grand volume would have been laid open to our contemplation illustrative of the moral character of his Creator ! Here was a being whose nature is not only a virtual compendium of the preceding stages of creation, and, as such, an exponent of the power, and wisdom, and goodness of God, but in him the laws of matter are to find their interpreter, the vegetable kingdom its uses, the animal tribes their sovereign, and all creation its subordinate completion and its end. Here was a being who, besides being a continuous link in the chain of the Divine Manifestation, could, as the creature to whom the manifestation is made, turn round and look back upon that chain, and, by that very act, show himself to be the most important part of it. The created universe is a great system of Divine symbols ; and here is the first being the earth has seen capable of interpreting them capable of conceiving of the very prop- erties of the Divine character which they are meant to express, the ideas they are intended to suggest, and of making them the media of intelligent and sympathetic intercourse with the Deity. The very first step towards the production of an ex- ternal material economy, presupposed the " eternal power and Godhead," and disclosed somewhat of the internal economy of the Divine Nature ; and here is a being on whom this external economy reacts, as soon as he is placed in relation with it, so as to disclose an internal economy of his own, answering in some respects to that of the Infinite Creator. In this new creature we behold a being capable of knowing that which is not himself; of breaking away from the chain of mere sensa- tions received from this external economy, and in which he rather loses than finds himself; and of so looking in upon the phenomena of his own mind as to be made distinctly conscious of a three-fold object or element of knowledge of himself as a distinct existence, of the finite creation to which he belongs and from which he derives his sensations, and of the Infinite Maker of both, presupposed by their existence. Still more : here is a Person, a being influenced by motives, determined by will, and having a high moral end of his own ; a creature in whose mysterious constitution Law and Liberty perfect Law HOLINESS. 9 and conscious Liberty harmoniously co-exist ; and whose vol- untary power renders him at once capable of loving, and a proper object of love. And, beyond all, here is a creature who, being thus capable of willing, and loving, and of imprinting the proofs of these powers on every object around him, is also endowed with the profound consciousness of what he ought to do, and with the capability of finding his highest happiness in doing it. He is a law unto himself, a self-executing law. He encloses within himself a whole system of moral government laws, and judge, and prison, and instruments of torture, if he violate his own constitution conscious improvement, and ever-increasing happiness, as the result of conformity to it. Here is an innocent being on probation, capable of conceiving of immortality, and of aspiring after it ; his nature enclosing moral possibilities of the most opposite kind. "What if all limitation should be removed from them in regard to time, and the consequences of his pro- bation be allowed to accumulate and extend through all future duration ! Surely " there is a spirit in man," a new subjective power, a substance capable of examining both its own phenom- ena and those of matter ; but finding the former within, and the latter lying in a sphere without ; and having to resort to consciousness for the one, and to the distinct method of observa- tion and experiment for the other. 15. Now if, according to the law under consideration, every created object expresses some property of the Divine Nature, how distinct and solemn an utterance of the moral character of God is made in the moral constitution of the new creature, man. The apparent tautology of the phrase, " Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness" * only denotes more emphatically, according to a Hebrew idiom, the pre-emi- nent moral resemblance of man to God. Everything else only discloses a part or property of the Creator ; here, at length, is His image. If man is, in the language of Clement,f " the most beautiful hymn to the praise of the Deity," we could not have had his moral capabilities disclosed to us, and have remembered that, even in their utmost development, they will not measure the same Divine perfection in God, but only indicate its exist- ence, infinitely greater, without feeling that the burden of his hymn is that of the seraphim, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty." * Gen. i. 26. f See Cohortatio ad Gentes, p. 78. 10 MAN. CHAPTER H. THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 1. A SECOND principle of the manifestation leads us to expect that " all the laws and results of the preceding stages of crea- tion will be found brought forwards into the human economy ; and that all that is characteristic in those lower steps of the process will be carried' up into the higher as far as it may subserve the great end ; or unless it should be superseded by something analogous in this higher stage." For, were it not for this law, the manifestation would be neither progressive nor continuous, but would be ever beginning de novo. Everything would be isolated. After the Divine Procedure had continued for untold ages, all the past would be unknown and lost to the present, and to all the future. And the proof of all-sufficiency for a connected manifestation would be forever wanting. 2. An inspection of man's constitution alone would supply abundant illustration of the fulfilment of this law. But we have now reached a point in the development of the Divine Plan which gives us access to the Word of God, in addition to the more ancient volume of His works. The latter, indeed, is still available in indicating the probable geological period since which man has been added to the inhabitants of the earth ; but the Bible, besides enabling us to assign, within certain limits, the chronological date of man's appearance, supph'es information of peculiar interest respecting the creative process which intro- duced that great event. What circumstances may have attended preceding creations, we know not, but the record of man's crea- tion is deemed of sufficient importance to be accompanied with an account of the miraculous scenes which introduced it. And as those scenes are found to illustrate our law, as well as the constitution of the newly-created man, to these we shall direct our attention first. 3. Before proceeding to prove this, it is important rightly to estimate the character of the Mosaic account of the creation. Having no reason Avhatever to regard it as a poem, a myth, a philosophic speculation, a translated hieroglyph, or in any other light than that which it assumes to be a history of facts, of Divine origin, conveyed through the limitation of a human medium, and for human use we find, on reading it, that it THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 11 exhibits precisely those characteristics which analogy would have led us to expect. 4. It is strictly anthropopathic, or in harmony with the feel- ings, views, and popular modes of expression which prevail in an early state of society, and which are always best adapted for universal use. Hence the colloquial, or dramatic, style of the account. For example: And God said not that there was any vocal utterance, where, as yet, there was no ear to hear, (each of which would imply a corporeal structure) let there be light let there be a firmament let the earth bring forth by which we are to understand that these effects were produced just as if such a fiat had been, in each instance, vocally uttered, and such a formula actually employed. The bare volitions of the Infinite Mind are deeds. So, again, when it is said that God " rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made ; " the truth involved obviously is, not that of reposing from fatigue, for Inspiration itself affirms that " the Creator of the ends of the earth fainteth not, neither is weary," but that of ceasing or desisting from a process which has reached comple- tion. The pause at the close of the sixth day, and the contin- uation of it on the opening of the seventh, resembled the quiet of a person relaxing and at rest aft er a laborious and exhausting process. But the objection urged by a so-called spiritual philos- ophy against such anthropopathia is ultimately unfounded and suicidal. That philosophy itself is unavoidably anthropopathic in its very denunciations of anthropopathia. Necessarily, its language is " of the earth, earthy," limited and colored by the sensuous media through which it comes. The utmost it can hope to achieve is to escape from a gross to a more refined, to ascend from a lower to a higher, range of anthropomorphism. The danger is less in proportion as it gets away from the sen- sible to the abstract, it should find that it is leaving behind it all definite and distinct views of the Deity, and is emerging into an atmosphere too rarefied for piety to live and move in. 5. In order to interpret the Mosaic cosmogony aright, another fact to be borne in mind is, that every visible object is spoken of, not according to its scientific character that would have been not merely improper but impossible, except at the price of consistency but optically, or according to its appearance;* * " Should a stickler for Copernicus and the true system of the world,** says J. D. Michaelis, " carry his zeal so far as to say, the city of Berlin sets at such an hour, instead of making use of the common expression, the sun sets at Berlin at such an hour, he speaks the truth to be sure, but hia 12 MAN. just as, with all our knowledge of the solar system, we speak, even in scientific works, of the sun as rising and setting. For example : had there been an unscientific human spectator of the creative process, the atmosphere would have appeared to his eye as it does still to every untutored eye, a firm and solid expanse, sustaining the waters above. The sun and the moon would have appeared to be " two great lights " of nearly equal magnitude, compared with which all the astral systems deserved only that which is allotted to them a passing word. The describer is supposed to occupy an earthly position himself the centre of the universe. The earth is said to have brought forth grass, and the waters to have produced living creatures ; though we are to believe that no creative power was delegated to the elements to produce them, but that they were made in full perfection by the simple volition of Omnipotence ; but then, to a human looker-on, they would so appear to have been pro- duced. And the fiat is said to have been issued, " Let the dry land appear ; " when there was no human eye to see it ; but had there been a spectator, it would have risen to his view as if such a command had been literally given. And if to this optical mode of description it be objected that as there was no human spectator, the account can only be received and interpreted as an allegorical representation, we reply that it is the very method for answering its great design that of being popularly intel- ligible ; and that the way in which it becomes both intelligible and vividly graphic is by placing the reader, in imagination, in the position of a spectator.* But much more inconsistent are manner of speaking it is pedantry." Essay on the Influence of Opinions on Language, and of Language on Opinions. 1769. * Gen. i. 25 ; ii. 5. In accordance with this rule of interpretation, we find Gregory of Nyssa, (394,) Avho wrote an apologetic explanation of the six days' work, teaching that the phrase, " ' God said,' should not be un- derstood of an articulate sound : a supposition which were contrary to the nature and unbecoming the majesty of God, but of an intimation of will." Similar is the remark that it " is the manner of Scripture to describe what appears to be, instead of whatra?% is" Ep. de Pythonissa, p. 870. And Chrysostom, on Gen. i. 5, says, "Do you see what condescension (accom- modation to our weakness) this blessed prophet (Moses) has used: or, rather, the benevolent God, by the mouth of the prophet ? ... the Holy Spirit moved the tongue of the prophet in adaptation to the weakness of the hearers, and thus expressed all things to us in an intelligible manner utters everything in conformity with the manner of men. Horn, in Gen. vol. i. pp. 12, 13. Quoted by Dr. Davidson in Bib. Hermeneutics, pp. 118, 120. To the same effect is the great Talmudic maxim, The expressions used in the law are like the ordinary language of mankind- De Sola's New Trans- THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 18 those who, while they would admit that, in all instances we have named, and in many others, the language is evidently that of optical description, would yet regard the extension of the same principle of interpretation to the account of the creation of the sun on the fourth day, as a sacrifice of the truth of inspi- ration ; although it is said that God made a firmament or solid plane to sustain the clouds on the second day, as distinctly as that he made the sun on the fourtli day. The former, however, they would explain optically ; the latter, with a rigorous liter- ality. Surely some steadier rule of interpretation than that of caprice should be adopted, and a more charitable construction than that usually held should be put on the conduct of those who think they have found that rule, not in popular wliim and preju- dice, but in the Sacred Record itself. 6. But not only is the language of the Mosaic cosmogony popular, and that of a supposed witness, it relates specifically to the race of man. Besides being prepared for man, it con- cerns itself chiefly, if not exclusively, with what belongs to him. Of the creation of angels nothing is said. Respecting the starry heavens a brief clause is employed ; for what are they all to man, in his present state, compared with the sun which makes his day, the moon which rules his night, and the earth on which he dwells. In the account of the vegetable creation, no mention is made of timber-trees, the giants of the botanical kingdom; the history is confined to the production of grasses, or food for cattle ; to herbs, or grain and leguminous plants for his own use, and to fruit-bearing trees ; all relating, directly or indirectly, to the wants and conveniences of man- kind. Nor does the account of the animal creation contain a hint in reference to the production of stationary beings, or of microscopic animalcules, though these form numerically the vast majority of animal existences. The history relates to the familiarly known, the visible, and the useful, among animals. Man himself is described as created last ; plainly intimating that all which had gone before was only a means of which he was to be the subordinate end. And not only the process, but even its termination is made to subserve his welfare, for it is laid as a reason for the institution of the Sabbath. If the crea- tion itself, then, be thus designed to subserve his welfare, it is only in harmony with this fact that the account of the creation 'ation of the S. S., vol. i. p. 19, 1844. See also Dr. J. P. Smith's Scripture and Geology, pp. 241, 266. Sec. Ed. 2 14 MAN. should be given in a style so familiar as to be easily understood by him ; in a manner so graphic as to make him present, and to paint it to his eye ; and that it should confine itself chiefly to that which more immediately concerns him. 7. The Scriptural account of creation is in strict analogy with the prevailing character of the Divine arrangements. To have spoken scientifically of the subject in other words, to have made science the subject of revelation would have been to degrade the character of revelation by making it minister to man's curiosity ; to defeat its unique design by diverting his attention from the permanent to the passing, aggravating the very evil it was meant to remedy by absorbing him in the inter- ests of the present ; for if it expounded science, why not also art, political economy, and all the formulas of civilization ? and to repeal some of the deep-laid laws of the Divine plan, and, as such, to impugn the Divine origin of the revelation ; for the entire scheme of things is constructed with a view, not to ex- empt man from effort, but to invite him to it ; to enable him to make discoveries for himself; to engage his powers so as to reward them, and by engaging and rewarding to augment them. But the sacredness of its origin is deducible from more than analogical grounds. Even in a literary respect it is unique. Ease, simplicity, and grandeur characterize its statements. Myth and speculation are unknown to it ; the historical element predominates. No other ancient cosmogony will sustain a com- parison with it.* While philosophy was still breathing mist, and living in a chaos, the opening sentence of the Bible had been shining on the Hebrew mind for centuries, a ray direct from heaven. Nor has science been able to transcend that sub- lime affirmation. It is too spiritual for materialism to embrace ; too personal and substantial for pantheism to dissipate. True, the narrative of the Adamic creation which follows that primary announcement wears a peculiar form ; the spirit is clothed in mortal vesture ; but the Divine image shines through. Ob- scured though it may sometimes have been by the false glosses of its friends, the transfiguring power of the indwelling truth cannot be concealed. Science has had to recal her imputations on it, and to confess herself forestalled in her own department. Modern scepticism may be safely challenged even to imagine a more credible account of creation.f As science multiplies her * Euseb. Praep. Evang. lib. i. cc. 9, 10. Cory's Fragments, p. 26. Faber's Origin of Pagan Idolatry, vol. i. p. 232. t As an example, see Oken's Isis, (1819,) p. 1117 THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 15 ascertained results, new accordances with the Biblical narrative come to light. The higher deductions of reason harmonize with it. Nor can the time be hopelessly distant when, in the blended radiance of revelation and science, nothing shall be left for their mutual friends to deplore but the long want of that wise confiding patience, and that candid forbearance, which would have hastened their union, and have added to their lustre. 8. Now, the creative process immediately preparatory to the coming of man, as described in the opening of the Book of Genesis, is remarkably illustrative of the law at present under consideration. Thus, no intimation is given that a particle of new matter was originated on the occasion. The Adarnic " earth " was formed from the matter which had been created "in the beginning" at a period indefinitely distant and eveiy atom of which existed still, notwithstanding all the com- binations and changes which it had undergone. 9. That the ancient originating act is described in the sen- tence placed at the opening of the Bible, appears evident from such considerations as these : First, the creative acts of the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth days, begin with the for- mula, And God said ; it is only natural to conclude, therefore, that the creative act of the first day begins with the third verse, where the same formula is first employed, " And God said, Let there be light." But if so, it follows that the act described ,in the first verse, and the chaotic state of the earth spoken of in the second, must have both belonged to a period anterior to the first day. Secondly, the only adequate reason assignable for the account given in the second verse is to prepare the reader for the description which follows of the six days' work ; for it both intimates the necessity for such work by affirming the chaotic condition of the earth, and describes the Spirit of God as brooding over the" chaos, preparatory to it. Not only the originating act in the first verse, therefore, but also the com- mencement of the energizing process in the second, appears to have preceded the opening fiat of creation on the first day, and to have been introductory to it. Thirdly, if it be admitted that the regular unfolding of the six days' work begins with the utterance of the first fiat in the third verse, it follows that the origination of the earth, in the first verse, was anterior to and independent of it ; for no such an act is again adverted to in the, subsequent verses.* In other words, the same material, * See on Gen. i. 1 3. "Pre- Adamite Earth," pp. 273281. 16 MAN. originated at an unknown period before, and which had been already employed in successive formations of the earth, was now to be employed anew in the Adamic earth. 10. At the eventful moment when, according to the Divine purpose, the Adamic creation was to commence, "the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep." How much of the entire surface of the planet was in this chaotic state, is not ascertainable. The generality of the Mosaic statement is quite compatible with the limited extent of the chaos described.* The just inference appears to be, that the desolation and ruin were universal over that region which was about to be prepared for the reception of the first man and his antediluvian posterity. Now that the desolation was not universal over the globe, geological evidence abundantly attests.f Even the great epochs of geology do not exhibit signs of uni- versal disorder and ruin ; much less do the tertiary and post- tertiary changes of our planet. And that the creation which followed the chaos of which we are now speaking, was local, seems clear from Gen. ii. 19, 20 : "And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air, and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them ; and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof. . And Adam gave names to all cat- * The Hebrew term, pronounced eretz, whence, ultimately, our earth, is by no means restricted to the single meaning of the entire planet. Some- tunes, like its equivalent in other languages, it is employed in opposition to the heaven, Gen. i. 1 ; and to the seas, Gen. i. 10. Sometimes it stands for a particular land or country, Gen. ii. 11 ; Ex. iii. 8 ; for a piece of land, a field, Gen. xxiii. 15 ; for the around, xxxiii. 3 ; for earthy matter, Ps. xii. 7 ; and, at others, for the inhabitants of a land, and of the world. If, now, it should be insisted on, notwithstanding these instances (a few among many) of the varied application of the word earth, that it must have pre- cisely the same extent of application in the second verse of Gen. i. which it has in the first verse, I can only suppose that the objector has some par- ticular theory to sustain by his interpretation. It is of little weight for him to allege that the general reader would infer from the second verse that the chaos was universal. To a human spectator surveying the scene from the centre, it would doubtless have appeared universal ; and the description, we repeat, is optical, or according to the appearances of things. But as, even in this opening history, the term earth is applied to the entire planet, to the dry land on its surface, and then to a single district, we are left to infer the extent of chaos spoken of in the second verse, by an ex- amination of the context, if it contains any evidence on the subject, and by an investigation of the earth itself, and not by the arbitrary construc- tion of a term. t Lyell's Principles of Geology, B. I. cc. x. xiii. ; B. III. c. xi. THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 17 tie, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field.'* Here it is affirmed that all the land-animals which were then created were brought to the father of mankind to be distin- guished and named. Now, unless it be assumed that animals alike from the torrid zone and from the arctic circle were mira- culously wafted across deserts and oceans to the limits of Eden, or else that they were created in Eden to be subsequently transported to their respective regions, (either assumption in- volving a cluster of extravagances which is surely too enormous to be entertained,) it follows that the animals said to have been brought to Adam were such as were henceforth to inhabit the Edenic region, probably such as were suited for domestication and use, and that such only were at that time created. 11. The situation of this important region can only be spoken of generally. It was "eastward,"* or an eastern country; that is, it lay easterly from Palestine, the probable station-point of the writer. Of the river-system f which is described as char- acterizing it immediately after the Adamic creation, the Phrat and the Hiddekel are generally agreed to be the Euphrates and the Tigris. While the land of gold and of precious stones through which two of the rivers passed, assists us further in at least approximating to the birth-place of man. The garden of Eden was probably situated on the southern slope of Armenia ; for the greater part of this country, constituting an elevated table-land, with numerous ranges of higher mountains rising above it, is intersected in all directions by rapid streams ; and here the Euphrates and Tigris have their rise, not far from each other. But Eden itself may have embraced the fairest portion of Asia and a part of Africa. The probability is, however, that it was limited to that portion of Asia which is bounded by the Indian Sea, the Persian Gulf, and the Arabian Desert, on the south ; by the Caucasian Mountains, the Caspian Sea, and Tartary, on the north ; by the chains of Taurus and Amanus, on the west ; and, on the east, by the high land which, in the steppe of the Kirghis, connects the western ridges of the Altai mountains and the Himalaya range, about the sources of the Ganges; comprehending a tract lying between 25 and 40 N. latitude, and between 30 and 80 E. longitude. 12. Whatever may have been the condition, at that time, of * Gen. ii. 8, 0*1 J3E (the prep, a often makes a periphrasis of the gen- itive,) of the eastern country i. e., towards, or at, tlie east. t Gen. ii. 10 14. 2* 18 MAN. other parts of the surface of our planet, here was a region which a tremendous cataclysm, at some previous period, had superficially convulsed and laid utterly waste. To a human eye surveying the desolation from the centre, the anarchy would appear to be universal ; and, probably, so extensive and ruinous was it, that the equilibrium of nature was disturbed in regions far beyond the centre and actual scene of the chaos. The physical cause of the convulsion may have been the sub- sidence, owing to an igneous movement below, (one of a series to which that portion of the earth is still subject, for it forms part of the great volcanic range extending from Central Asia to the Azores,) of a considerable region ; for the surface is de- scribed as being covered with water. One of the consequences was a thick darkness. Even an ordinary cloud will conceal the sun. A dense fog will render artificial light necessary at noon-day. A local convulsion of the earth has been known to envelope a district of many miles extent in midnight gloom. What, then, may we suppose to have been the turbid and opaque condition of the atmosphere, when all its elements over a wide region were in a state of conflicting activity and revolution ! 13. On the face of this troubled deep the Spirit of God brooded; and to the profound gloom of the atmosphere the voice of Omnipotence said, Be Light. The laws of gravity, of molecular attraction, and of light, were- forthwith so recalled into operation, that the surging deep began to be tranquillized. The restoration of light was the chief work of the first day ; or, as it must have appeared to a terrestrial spectator, had there been one, its production. But that this light was at first only very partially reproduced, is evident from the work assigned to the second day ; for the atmosphere was still laden with dense watery vapor, which must have rendered it a very imperfect medium for the light, and probably unfit for organic life. This vapor, therefore, was next collected into floating masses, or clouds, and become " the waters above the firmament," in dis- tinction from " the waters " which still overflowed the earth " under the firmament." The balanced condition of the atmos- phere having been thus comparatively restored, the Divine Creator proceeded, on the third day, to arrange the surface of the earth. He bade the waters to collect and confine them- selves within certain boundaries. And as this could take place only by the upheaving of the subjacent land, He called for " the dry land to appear : and it was so." Everlasting hills lifted themselves up, and awaited his further command. The THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 19 fiat, it will be observed, is not now creative, but formative, and is represented as being issued, not to the land, but to the water ; for, owing to its greater mobility, it would have appeared to a spectator to be hastening away and voluntarily giving place to the land, rather than as being actually displaced by it. Yet the running off of the waters was doubtless the effect of the miraculous elevation of the land. Vegetation was called for, and the newly raised lands were forthwith covered with grasses, herbs, and fruit trees terms designating, by a common figure, the whole vegetable kingdom. The morning of the fourth day dawned, and behold, not now a dubious and gloomy twilight, but the sun itself enthroned, and " rejoicing as a strong man to run a race." Of course, by a spectator then standing on the earth for the first time, the appearance of the sun, and perhaps of the moon in another part of the heavens at the same time, would have been regarded as the sudden production of " two great lights." These luminaries, light-dispensers, or light- bearers, the Divine Creator now " made," in the common sense of appointed, to serve a purpose which they had never answered before, (inasmuch as there had been no intelligent beings on the earth to appropriate them to the use,) to " be for signs and for seasons, and for days and for years," to his coming creature man. And now again " the stars " shone forth. The fifth morning of creation came : and the waters teemed with fish, and birds winged their way through the air. " And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let the fowl multiply in the earth," a commission which obviously recognized the ordinance of animal death, and involved its necessity ; as the grant of the green herb for food involved the condition of vegetable death : for continued propa- gation supposes the removal of some, at least, of the preceding generations, otherwise room and food would soon be wanting. The sixth day beheld the occupation of the earth by land- animals of various tribes : and the Glorious Creator saw that the whole "was good." Of man's creation the last and crowning act of the Divine process we shall speak presently. 14. As far, then, as the law now under consideration relates to the preparation of the region destined for man's immediate abode, its conditions are all satisfied. Often, before, we are to suppose, the same tract of the earth's surface had been the scene of Creative intervention. Very various and conclusive evidence exists that, at an early period of the ancient earth, the northern hemisphere was almost entirely submerged. But 20 MAN. after the formation of the carboniferous strata, land was suc- cessively upheaved from the deep by repeated convulsions, and the physical geography of those regions greatly modified. So recently as the tertiary period, the great lowland of Siberia an area nearly equal to all Europe appears, from the char- acter of its marine strata, to have emerged. Shells of tertiary species have been found in the plains of Armenia.* And fossil remains of still existing species inhabiting valleys and plains have been found lodged in the peaks of the Sewah'k range, f westward of the river Jumna, indicating the comparatively recent action of a subterraneous upheaving force. Indeed, the volcanic region commencing in China and Tartary extends through the Caspian to the Caucasus, the countries bordering the Black Sea, and through part of Asia Minor to Syria ; still keeping it, at times and in places, in violent commotion. But as often as such Pre- Adamite disturbance and consequent desolation had occurred, the Divine Creator had renewed the face of the earth, and, in the later epochs, had successively placed on its surface new forms of animal life. In a similar manner, on the present occasion, the face of the ancient earth is once more renewed. It is not said that, on the third day, He called new matter into existence ; but that He gave to the confused and conflict- ing materials already existing, a new arrangement. All the mechanical and chemical laws which the ancient physical crea- tion had known were again reinstated in power, and resumed their tranquil operation. The laws of organic life were sum- moned anew to activity ; and sentient existence reappeared in the fulness of enjoyment.^ Or, taking the order of the Divine Perfections which the Pre- Adamite Earth displayed POWER had first stilled the conflict of chaos, and restored the reign of pre-existing physical law over inorganic nature ; and hence, in the JRuach JElohim, or Spirit of God, of Gen. i. 2, the predom- inant idea is that of power. WISDOM employed inorganic mat- ter as means for the accomplishment of organic ends clothing the earth with vegetable life and beauty. And GOODNESS once * Mr. W. J. Hamilton's " Tour in Asia Minor," ii. 386. t Falconer and Cautley, in Proceed. Geol. Soc., Nor. 15, 1843. J In the second edition of his " Scripture and Geology," the Rev. Dr. J. P. Smith remarks on the phrases, Let the waters breed, and the earth brought forth, that " the kernel of truth which they enclose is, that animal and vegetable bodies are organized out of the very materials which con- stitute water and the commonest minerals." P. 279, Note. THE PAST BE OUGHT FORWARD. 21 more called for various orders of animal existence, and filled the whole with enjoyment. 15. But were the laws of nature as known to the ancient earth, and now recalled into operation in his Edenic region, introduced and embodied in the constitution of the new-made, man ? This is the condition which the Law now under consideration especially requires. We have seen the preparations made for the presence of the coming human being. The mansion is ready, but, as yet, the inhabitant is not. Here is the temple complete ; the worshipper is now to be created. Eden is waiting to yield its fruits ; but " there is not a man to till the ground." "Was not His absence felt as a want, a state of unsatisfied incompletion ? Did not creation await His coming with suspense ? Did not a universal silence reign to hear the mandate for His creation issued ? Let it be remarked, however, that the form of the Creative fiat is now changed. He who hath said, Let there be light, saith not, Let there be man. The Creator himself, as if to mark the importance of the crisis, is described as having paused. To denote the new style and superior excellence of the work which is now to be performed, the Elohim is represented as proceed- ing to it deliberately, and as the result of self-consultation. To indicate the God-like character and destiny of the creature, the " Elohim said, Let us make man in our image, after our like- ness, and let them have dominion over all the earth." * And to represent the direct and peculiar derivation of the new creature, he is described as formed by the immediate hand, and inspired by the in-breathing of the Godhead. 16. A priori, indeed, it might have been said with a feeling of wondering interest. What will, what can be, the mysterious constitution of a creature whose high destiny it is that he is to read the creation as a manifestation of the Deity, himself being, by that very act, and by the power of performing it, superior to all the rest of creation ! What a vast advance will he present on all that has previously existed ! However far the mere animal may have proceeded along the brightening upward path which man is meant to travel, even if it went considerably beyond its present stage, the interval which separates it from the coming human being would yet be vast, greater than any known on earth before. And if for no other reason, for this, that the mere animal, by its destitution of those properties * Gen. i. 26. 22 MAN. which are to bring mail into a moral economy, and to render him capable of sympathizing with the ultimate end of that economy, proves that its relation to man is that of means to an end. Surely (it might on these grounds have been said) man will have little or nothing in common with the material nature of the preceding creation ! Contrary, however, to such an ante- cedent expectation, it follows, if our theory of the Divine Pro- cedure be correct, that, vastly superior as man must be by the nature of his destiny, to all the past, equally certain it is that he will take up into his constitution the essential elements of all that has gone before him ; and that thus in common with them, he will display the power, and wisdom, and goodness of God. 17. (1.) Then, first, as part of a material universe, he may be expected to be, partly at least, material or physical, and subject to physical laws. Contrary to all antecedent views, as this ex- pectation might have appeared, the physiological truth is, that the human body is composed of the carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, the lime and sulphur, iron, phosphorus, and some other substances, of the mineral kingdom. And, although this fact could not have been known scientifically until modern chemistry disclosed it, the Mosaic history announced with unfal- tering accent " And the Lord God formed the man dust from the ground ; " aphar dust, denoting the sand, clay, lime, and common constituents of the general soil. And the same fact is commemorated in the name by which the father of man- kind is known, for the verse just quoted is, literally rendered " Jehovah Elohim formed the adam (or man) dust from the adamah, or ground," the name being derived from the material of which the body was composed. And hence man is amenable to the laws of gravitation^ mechanical force, chemical action, electricity, and light ; and, as we shall hereafter show, much of his practical wisdom through life consists in conforming to them. 18. (2.) Besides being a material existence, man must, for the same reason, be an organized being, and subject to organic laws. Accordingly, every great characteristic by which vege- table life is distinguished, both from inorganic matter and from animal life, is to be found in man. In distinction from the former, he is nourished and grows by a power of appropriation within, vitalizing that which he appropriates, and imparting to the matter vitalized the power of acting in the same way on other substances. And in distinction from the latter, his organic THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 23 or vegetative life, of which the centre is the heart, acts continu- ously, unconsciously, and independently of the will. 19. (3.) For the same reason man may be expected to be endowed with animal life. Accordingly, it is said in anthro- popathic language, that God "breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living or animated being." As such, he occupies his appropriate place at the head of the Vertebral Division. Physiologists have even affirmed that man's affinity with the animal kingdom is such that, during the period of his growth before birth, he assumes in succession many of the characters of the different Classes of that Division, and assumes them in the same order in which they are said to have been called into existence,* and in which also Geology indicates they were created from the first. This, however, is to confound resemblance with identity.f For it is also admitted, at the same time, that amidst ah 1 the partial analogies and resemblances of the Classes in question, each, at the very same time, exhibits certain specific characteristics of its own, which form an impassable partition between it and the class which it may most nearly resemble. 20. The consideration of the characteristic and superior organization of man, we reserve for Chapter the Fifth. For the present, it is only proper to speak of him in those leading respects in which he agrees with the class to which he belongs. First. On the subject of nutrition, it will at present suffice to remark that, while to the rest of the animal kingdom, a grant was made by the Creator of the gramineous and herbaceous substances, to man was given the use of all grain-bearing and leguminous plants, and of fruit trees. 21. Second. In relation to the propagation of the species, the same analogy was observed. For, as the Creator had said to the inferior animals, " Be fruitful and multiply," so, when God had " created man in his own image," it is added, " in the image of God created He him, male and female created He them. And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it." 22. In the Mosaic account of the creation of woman, a new and striking illustration occurs of the law now under consider- ation. In the creation of man, we have just seen that even the miracle did not deviate from this law ; that the Almighty Maker did not originate a new material out of which to form him, but * Gen. i. 20 25. f Tre-Adamite Earth, pp. 134 137. 24 MAN. simply employed a new combination of pre-existing materials. And, in accordance with the same principle, when the woman was to be formed, the Divine Creator, instead of going back even so far as to the dust of the earth for the material, as in the case of man, is beautifully and significantly represented as employing a portion of the new-made man himself ; thus, in a single act, assuming and embodying all the prior laws of the creation. 23. Here, if anywhere, the question naturally arises, whether all the varieties of mankind have descended from a single pair. Whether or not this question should be regarded as equivalent to an inquiry respecting the unity of the species, depends entirely on our definition of a species. If we regard a species as an assemblage of individuals related to each other through descent from a common and original pair or stock the two questions are identical. If, however, we describe a species to be all the individuals which, having some organic characteristic, transmit it to their successors, together with the same power of reproduction or say that fertile offspring constitutes the proof of identity of species we are stating a criterion rather than a definition, and one which does not repose on absolutely unex- ceptionable facts. Besides, the human race might, according to this view, have formed one species, and yet have descended, hypothetically, from more than a single pair. For it is ante- cedently conceivable that the Divine Creator might have seen fit to create more than one parent stock, and then by distin- guishing them with this characteristic the perpetuity of prop- agation they might have been truly described as " of one blood." Indeed, the identity of humanity cannot be regarded as dependent on, or necessitated by, an identity in the means of original production except as the Creator is pleased to establish such an arrangement; and hence each of the first three human beings was produced in a manner circumstantially different. The unity of the species is dependent on the fact that God has willed that, notwithstanding all man's circumstan- tial varieties, our moral and intelligent natures should be really and truly identical. 24. That ah 1 the families of mankind have actually descended from a single pair, appears, however, to be taught in the account of the Adamic creation, and God appears to have designed this fact to be both the means and the exponent of this unity. This is evident from the first employment of the word Adam : " Let us make man [Adam] in our own image, THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 25 after our own likeness, and let them have dominion ; * here the plural verb shows that the name had been employed collectively, as equivalent to mankind. " And God created the man [the Adam] in his own image ; in the image of God created He him ; male and female created He them." Here, both the application of " male and female " to the Adam, and the plural pronoun at the end of the verse, show that the name is used generically, and that it is equivalent to the first of mankind. The word Adam, then, was not at first a proper name, but an appellative noun for the human species ; its application to the first man, as his proper name, was subsequent and secondary. Nor did it ever lose its primary appellative signification. For, besides that it has no plural form, it is very often employed in the Old Testament in a collective sense, to denote mankind the human race. And although it is not necessary, as we have already intimated, that the " one blood " f of the human species should be construed to signify descent from a common ancestry, yet the probability is that as dam, the Hebrew word for " blood/' is a derivative from A-dam, the idea in the mind of the Apostle when he employed the phrase, was, that from one Adam, or man, God had caused to spring " all the nations of the earth." 25. The common origin of mankind, which is thus indicated, involves, indeed, a problem, or rather a group of problems, of difficult solution. And this might have been antecedently expected; considering that it relates to an order of beings capable, from its original constitution, of incomparably greater deviations from a normal model, or standard, than any other class of sentient existences, and an order which has placed itself, for thousands of years, under the influence of a great variety of transforming conditions, without preserving a record of the processes through which it has passed. But to enter at any length into the investigation here, would be premature, since it belongs properly to the natural history of man, whereas we have now to do with his origin and constitution. For the present, it is sufficient to remark, that as far as the investigation has been pursued, since Blumenbach began his extensive researches into the comparative anatomy of human races, and Dr. Prichard % * Gen. i. 26. t Actn xvii. 26, 6 9eof . . . ktroirjaE TE vdf afyzarof Kciv e#vo? av&pu- iruv. I Sec his admirable " Researches into the Physical History of Man- kind," and the "Natural History of Man." 3 26 MAN. explored their comparative physiology and psychology, the difficulties attending the theory of a common ancestry have been diminishing. 26. Blumenbach, proceeding on Anatomical grounds, distri buted mankind into five groups chiefly according to the con formation of the skull the Caucasian, Mongolian, Ethiopian, American, and Malayan, an arrangement which Cuvier adopted. According to Dr. Prichard, the leading types of cranial config- uration are only three the elliptical, the pyramidal, and the prognathous, or jaw-projecting. It is observable, however, that the retreating forehead of the latter class does not necessarily infer that the capacity of the cranial cavity is less than that of either of the other types the difference being one of form, or of greater backward elongation ; that the prognathous type is neither common nor peculiar to African nations ; while there is abundant evidence to show that the elliptical form of the Indo- Atlantic group passes off, by insensible degrees, into the pyra- midal type of the Mongolian, and that the prognathous form approaches, and, in many instances, joins on to, both of these. On the one hand, these typical characters are not invariably transmitted and yet such permanence appears to be essential to the theory of an original diversity of stocks; and on the other, as we pass from one group of nations to another, the widest extremes of cranial configuration are found to be con- nected by forms so finely graduated as to defy demarcation. 27. Physiology demonstrates the identity of the various tribes of mankind in all the great laws of the animal economy. Dr. Prichard has shown that, while animal races specifically dis- tinct, but very nearly resembling each other, exhibit the most marked differences in the phenomena of reproduction, in the period of gestation, in liability to disease, and in the duration of life, the various branches of the human family are, in all these respects, substantially alike. And it is especially perti- nent to the subject to add that, while it is almost unexception- ably true that distinct species of animals do not propagate so as to perpetuate hybrid races, the mixed offspring of men of the most distinct diversities are the more vigorous and prolific for the union ; involving the necessary inference that such diver- sities are only variations of the same species. 28. The most dissimilar races are found also to be Psycho- logically identical. Tribes rashly proscribed as on a level with the brute, have in our own day vindicated their claim to a common humanity. The metropolis of civilization is not without its THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 27 degraded Bushmen, while the aboriginal Australian is not inca- pable of European cultivation. As far as we know, no race of men stands in intellectual or moral isolation. All are amenable to the same laws of motive and action. Sympathies and emo- tions in common proclaim " the whole world kin." 29. In each of these departments, History, in connection with Physical Geography, adduces evidence that the diversities of mankind are, more or less, resolvable into the prolonged action of external and other agents producing or perpetuating them. Within two centuries, the population of a district in Ireland has, under barbarizing influences, changed the elliptical form of skull for the prognathous. On the other hand, the pyramidal type of the Mongolian group of nations has, in the instance of the Western Turks, for example, assumed the ellip- tical conformation of skull. The color of the eyes and of the skin is found to be so dependent on external conditions as to render it useless as a characteristic mark of some races. The Jew of Germany, of Portugal, and of Cochin, is so far assimilated to the native populations of these countries as to be light-complexioned in the first, dark-colored in the second, and black in the third. It is freely admitted, indeed, that cli- mate does not account for all the varieties of color; but neither will diversity of original stock account for them. Very marked differences of color exist among the same nation : even within the limits of a small island. Peculiarities of com- plexion often appear in the children of the same parents. Sometimes all the offspring of five-fingered parents are six- fingered ; and circumstances are easily conceivable in which ' this distinction might be perpetuated. Thus far, then, we have met with no race exhibiting a single distinctive characteristic common to all its members and peculiar to them, nor one so constant as not to be susceptible of change in the course of time ; leaving it to be inferred that the varieties observable are not original, but within the limits of species. 30. It may be objected that the kinds of evidence already adduced only make it probable that the varieties of mankind may have descended from a single stock, or from similar stocks. This is true, but this is all which can be reasonably looked for. And a wise philosophy will neither reject negative evidence, where positive cannot be justly expected, nor assume a plurality of causes, where one is sufficient to account for the phenomena. Comparative Philology, however, or, as applied to the science of races, " Glottology," tends, as far as its researches have 28 MAN. hitherto gone, to affirm positively the unity of the human race. In proportion as a careful inquiry has penetrated into the past, the streams of speech have been traced upwards to their points of divergence from their parent channels ; and many of these channels themselves have been found to converge and to unite in a common source. Thus, first, the languages of the great Indo-European family of nations are proved to have been developed from a common Sanscritic or earlier origin. The second or Semitic family, called, also, the Syro- Arabian, com- prising the Hebrew, the Aramaic, the Arabic, and the Ethiopic, are traceable to a common origin also. But these two families are themselves allied by the most unquestionable analogies. The Egyptian language was long supposed to stand apart from both families. Not only, however, were the same social, polit- ical, and speculative characteristics, in their broad outline, common to the Egyptians and Indians, but the language of each is now found to be linked together by mysterious affinities. " The old Egyptian clearly stands between the Semitic and Indo-European ; for its forms and roots cannot be explained by either of them singly, but are evidently a combination of the two."* The third family, the Turanian, or Ugro-Tartarian, comprises the languages of High Asia and of parts of Northern Europe. To this branch belongs, also, by numerous structural relations, the whole American family, as well as the Papuan and Polynesian languages. And yet so striking are the vestiges of original connection between the Turanian and the Indo- European families, that it has even been proposed to include them both under the wider designation of the Japhetic ? f The monosyllabic Chinese and Indo-Chinese form a fourth family of languages. But even this strongly marked group is not isolated : for to say nothing of the grammatical affinities between the Chinese and Burmese languages ; j the Tibetan language is, " in some respects intermediate between the monosyllabic lan- guages in general and the Mongolian," which is one of the Turanian group. A fifth group, the languages of the great region of Central Negroland, forms the last Glottological divis- * The Chevalier Bunsen's " Egypt's Place in Universal History," p. x. t The Chevalier Bunsen's " Results of the recent Egyptian Researches," &c., in the Report of Brit. Assoc., 1847, p. 297. J Idem, p. 264. Dr. Prichard " On the various Methods of Research," &e., in the same Report, p. 247. THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 29 ion ; and not only is there "primd facie evidence for believing that the phenomenon of philological isolation is not to be found in Africa," * but affinities exist which place this family in rela- tion to the Semitic group. 31. Now the fact that formative words arid inflections pervade the entire structure of some of these great families of languages, renders almost every sentence a witness to the common origin of the nations speaking them. But when it is remembered that, according to the laws of combination, millions of chances lie against the application of a few similar unexceptionable words in different languages to the same objects,f we may be said to possess mathematical evidence of the common origin of all languages, and consequently of the original unity of man- kind. And thus it is that in human language itself there is more to be read than in anything that has been written in it. 32. The descent of mankind from a single stock is further supported by Analogy. It is the generally received doctrine of naturalists that every species of animals had only one beginning in a particular spot ; their progeny being left to disperse them- selves as far from that spot as their powers of locomotion, climatic adaptations, and other conditions would permit. But if this hypothesis be accepted respecting the brute creation, the improbability that there was a plurality of ancestral stocks created for man is as much greater as his powers of locomotion, of adaptation, and his inventive resources, exceed those of the brute creation. And, further, it may be shown that there are no physical diversities of color, shape, and conformation, found among the different branches of the human family, which have not their parallel in the varieties of many an animal species ; leaving it to be inferred that they are resolvable into deviations from one stock. 33. The objection, that if the hypothesis of descent from a single stock be accepted, a much longer time is necessary in order to account for the diversities among mankind than our received chronology would allow, inasmuch as some of them are found already stereotyped at the very commencement of historic time, belongs, properly, to the department of chronol- ogy. We may remark, however, in abatement of the objection, first, that although paintings coeval with the earliest records * Dr. Latham, " On Ethnographical Philology," in the same Keport, pp. 223, 229. t Dr. Young, in Philosoph. Trans., vol. cix. for 1819, p. 70. 3* SO MAN. exhibit the red Egyptian in contrast with the jet-black Negro, tribes are to be found on the borders of the Red Sea constituting a series of links between the two, and therefore pointing to a common origin. Secondly, that regarding the Negro, for exam- ple, as a wide departure from the type of primitive man, it appears to be a law of human nature that deterioration should take place much more rapidly than restoration or improvement. And, thirdly, that supposing deterioration, or spontaneous varia- tion of any kind, to have taken place, the necessary condition of mankind at first would have peculiarly tended to its perpetu- ation. 34. Besides, if the hypothesis of a common origin be rejected, the nature of the only alternative should be distinctly borne in mind an unknown number of separate stocks. Five or five hundred will not suffice. For if the extreme or typical forms of mankind are to be each assigned a distinct origin, why is not every link of the series by which they are connected together to receive a similar distinction ? They can be placed in regular gradation ; and if any one in the line be merely a variation from the one standing next, why may not this also be a modifi- cation from the next in the series ? 35. It might be shown also that, of the different kinds of evi- dence implying unity of descent, one branch is strongest where another is weakest. Nations most linguistically remote have never had their physical relationship questioned. Others are closely bound by linguistic ties, though widely sundered phy- sically and geographically. All the branches of evidence appro- priate to the inquiry support each other, and unite in authenti- cating the conclusion that the human species is one, and that all the differences which it exhibits are to be regarded merely as varieties. 36. 'Third. Like the animal kingdom which preceded him, man is endowed with animal instincts ; and, as in animals, all these instincts determine him to act for the attainment of that end which is relative, but only relative, to the great End his own animal well-being. "Whatever higher purposes they may be applied to by the nobler parts of man's nature, the direct objects of all his animal instincts are life, enjoyment, and con- tinuance by offspring. The existence of many of these is recognized in the terms of the original grant of the earth for man's use. " And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it ; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the THE PAST BROUGHT FOKWAED. 31 fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth." Here the gregarious instinct becomes, under the influence of reason, a social principle. So many processes, and so great a variety of labor, are implied in the accomplish- ment of this destiny, that not only is a division of labor, or a community of effort, desirable, but the continuance of such social compact is indispensable through a long period of time. 37. In all these respects, then, the laws of nature, as known to the ancient earth, were now introduced and embodied in the constitution of the new-made man. So completely is a portion, at least, of the pre-existing creation taken up into man's nature, that any change in external nature, unless accompanied by a corresponding change in Ins constitution, will be detrimental to his well-being. And any essential change in him which is not accompanied by a corresponding alteration in the laws of exter- nal nature, will, by throwing him out of his constitutional har- mony with nature, be equally detrimental to his physical, organic, and animal well-being. Had man been the first object created, and had he been held miraculously in space till the earth was made, God, by giving him his present constitution, would have given a pledge that the material globe to be created as his habitation should harmonize with it. On the other hand, as the earth was created first, a pledge was given in effect that the constitution of man should be in exact correspondence with all its laws. And the closer the examination into this coinci- dence, which we may hereafter have occasion to institute, the more shall we be impressed by its minuteness, comprehensive- ness, and perfection. And thus man's constitution, regarded in its threefold character, as physical, organic, and sentient, took up the strain of creation which had preceded his coming, in praise of the power, ancl wisdom, and goodness of God. 38. Thus far we have only verified the truth of the Scriptural declaration concerning man, " that his foundation is in the dust," for we have merely unearthed and looked at that foun- dation. The towering and temple-like superstructure is yet to engage our attention. But could we have looked on that foun- dation, even before it began to be built on, and to receive its mysterious additions, and could we have taken a comprehen- sive survey of the preparations and purposes which it implied, how profound the emotions which must have filled our breasts ! To receive the foundations of a temple, the ground has often to be prepared or, as it is technically called, to be made at an immense expenditure of time and labor ; but here is a basi3 32 MAN. laid, for which " the foundations of the earth " themselves had been laid for which the earth itself had been, literally, made. Nations have quarrelled for the mere sketches and outlines of the human figure by some of the masters of design : the very fragments of the marble block from which one of the master- pieces of ancient sculpture was hewn, would be deemed a treasure for royalty ; but here is the Divine model of all their copies the original of human beauty fresh from the hand of the infinite Designer. " The dust of antiquity," when it does not cover what ought to be exposed, imparts sacredness and value to the objects on which it rests; here dust of dateless antiquity, after having passed through numberless combinations, is taken and moulded into a human form. Some of the mem- bers of that form had been in the scheme of animal organization unknown ages before the earth was prepared for man or suited to his constitution ; possibly, the earth of Avhich they are moulded has been already in all their animal types ; but in his form they have at length attained a development which, guided by reason, will make him the sovereign of the animal kingdom. And even earlier still, before time began, there was " a book " an eternal plan in which " all his members were sketched, when as yet there was none of them." And how greatly would it have added to the interest of the spectacle could we have imagined all the relations of that new-made organization to the physical elements which encompassed it ; or have foreseen that when that Pharos, prostrate on the earth, should be erected, and lighted up with an intelligence within, it would stand, the centre of the material universe, with lines of relationship drawn to it from every part of the vast circumference. What, then, must our emotions have been, could we have looked on that frame, so " fearfully and wonderfully made," with .a prophetic eye, and have caught a glimpse of its subsequent history ! 39. The tenor of this chapter appears to assume, first, that, in the ascending order of creation, the origination of matter preceded that of mind, and mere animal life that of angelic existence ; and, secondly, that man's creation subsequent to that of angels implies his superiority of constitution and ulti- mate destination. Each of these implications I believe to be clearly deducible from the word of God. As, however, the pro- cess of the deduction would interfere with the continuity of our remarks respecting man, besides anticipating portions of the THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 33 later revelations of God, I will here content myself with two observations first, that the disproof and rejection of both these propositions respecting angels might still leave the truth of our theory respecting our planetary and human economy untouched. For aught that the rejector could show to the con- trary, their history may furnish more striking illustrations of our theory than that of our earthly economy does. Unless he were in a condition to say what the " first estate " was from which some of the angels fell ; where they passed that proba- tionary state ; and in what respects their physiological constitu- tion differed from ours, he has no premises from which to draw a single conclusion adverse to our views. Secondly, he is not at liberty to argue from their condition at this moment to our pres- ent condition. This (the common error) is a gross theological anachronism. In respect of mere time, they are a stage of existence beyond us. They are already in their future state ; what their preliminary or probationary history was, we know not. They may have reached their present condition from a part of the Divine dominions in which Power and Wisdom and Goodness had for unknown ages been conducting a process of manifestation parallel to that of earth, and in which everything was in strict analogy with, and preparatory to, the subsequent arrival of their own economy as a display of Holiness. The angelic and terrestrial economies may thus have proceeded inde- pendently and separately through successive stages, and for ages of duration, and yet they may have been all the time illus- trating the same Divine perfections, till, at a certain point, they touched and coincided. All that an objector would be justified in demanding is, that when they do meet they should not clash ; that the order of the progress of each should be the order of the Divine perfections ; that, like two streams, which, having run for leagues separately but in the same direction, at length Unite their course, and ever after flow on together ; and this condition the Scripture itself abundantly satisfies. MAN. HAPTER EDL PROGRESSION. Sensation and Perception. 1. IN our last chapter, we regarded man as a mere link in tlie connected chain of the Divine Manifestation. The same theory which led us to look for the reproduction of pre-existing laws and elements in his constitution, leads us to inquire next for the production of new effects, or the introduction of new laws. This itself is, hypothetically, a law of the Divine Procedure. 2. For were it to terminate at any given point, the proof of all-sufficiency for unlimited manifestation would terminate with it. Besides which, all-sufficiency, which is the perfection to be displayed, requires, from its very nature, infinity and eternity in which to be developed, for it implies sufficiency for nothing less than these. But, if the development of the ultimate Pur- pose, or the attainment of the great End, be in its very nature progressive, this is only saying that the process must ever be kept open to receive the addition of new effects, or the superin- duction of new laws. So that the law of uniformity itself will always be subject to, or bounded by, this more general law of Progression ; just as this more general law itself will always be subject to the law of the end, to which all particular laws owe their existence. That, therefore, which is commonly regarded as miraculous interposition, may be itself a law of the Manifes- tation not the exception, but the rule or, if the exception to us who view things only on the scale of a few days, to Him who views them on an unlimited scale it may be the rule. 3. Now, in harmony with the law of progression, we have found a newly created man. A short period prior to the point of time of which we are speaking, he was not. Animal exist- ence was supreme. A higher order of being has now come. A moment's consideration will show that we have now reached a new and vital point in our inquiries. Hitherto, we have con- templated nature as a manifestation of the Deity ; and, in the preceding chapter, we regarded man merely as a newly added link in the connected chain of nature. Now, we have to view him as the being to whom the manifestation is mo.de ; and as such, capable of turning round and examining the chain, link by PROGRESSION. 35 link, for himself. Hitherto, but two objects have engaged our attention God, and the created nature intended to manifest Him; but now a third party comes on the stage the Human being to whom that pre-existing Nature is to serve as a mani- festation of God. We have now therefore a new, and in some respects, a very different object, with which to deal. Not, indeed, that this new being himself will be less a manifestation of God, because he is the first to be occupied in the new work of recognizing God in creation. On the contrary, from the moment he enters on his new task, and by the very endow- ments which enable him to undertake it, he himself will be a nobler exponent of the perfections of his Maker than any part of external nature which can engage his attention. But, in the order of nature, this part of the subject, or man regarded as forming a part of the Divine manifestation, must be deferred until we have examined into the nature of that intellectual and moral constitution by which he is made capable of recognizing God in His works. In other words, the manifestation of God by man, requires that we first examine how the manifestation of God to man is made possible. Hitherto, there has been but one free mind related to this terrestrial economy the Infinite Mind which conceived the whole as a limited representation of Himself; but now another mind has come expressly in order to understand and admire this representation. Here are now two Subjectives and one Objective ; the Infinite Subjective proposing to reveal himself, the finite subjective prepared to receive the revelation, and objective nature placed, so to speak, between the two as the occasion or medium of communication ; and with this peculiarity of arrangement, that the finite subjective itself is embodied, or is constitutionally allied to external nature. 4. Now it must be evident that, in order that objective nature may answer the purpose hi question, the two subjective minds must have many things in common. To the infinite mind, that objective was first subjective, existing only in His divine pur- pose ; to the finite mind it is first objective, existing apart, and awaiting his arrival. If, then, it is to be the means of making the same truths consciously present in the finite mind wliich were once entirely subjective in the mind of God, it is clear that the two minds must have much in common with each other ; that man must, in this lofty sense, be made in the image of God the intellectual finite be the reflection of the infinite otherwise the objective universe would stand, not as a me- dium of communication, but as a barrier of obstruction, between 36 MAN. the teacher and the taught. If, as we believe, there was a point in past duration when creation had yet to be, when all the objects in nature existed in the Divine mind only as ideas ; if everything in nature exists only in conformity with those ideas, or as objective expressions of their laws ; and if man, though embodied and sentient, is to know them as such, he must be made capable of knowing material objects as the occasion of his sensations, of understanding the laws under which they operate and exist; and of being conscious of the ideas which these embodied laws symbolize and suggest. 5. First of all, then, it seems necessary that, if the physical, organic, and animal world be, in all its varieties, a manifestation of God, and man, though partaking of a material nature, is to know it as such, he should be placed in sensible and perceptible communication with it ; or be endowed with means of sensation and perception, rendering him susceptible of a sensible change or mental impression, consciously and uniformly answering to each, or else capable of being made to answer to each, of all the phenomena of external nature. 6. In order that objective nature may be subjectively felt, it appears necessary, in accordance with the terms of this propo- sition, (a) that the means or organs of sensation be susceptible of a change of state corresponding to the phenomena presented to them.* (5) That the seat of the sensation be, not in the material organs, but in the mind, and the mind alone, (c) That the sensation, being an effect, be referable by the mind to a cause or occasion, (d) That the sensation be attended by the belief of something external as the cause or occasion of it. (e) That this reference of the mind to an external agent involve the belief of distinction or difference between the subjective and the objective, (f) That the sensation be referable, not merely to some occasion external as its origin, but to the right occasion. 7. (g) That the perception of the right external occasion of sensation be phenomenal, or such as it appears when known through an organic medium. Now that which perception directly assures us of are the phenomena which we term attri- butes and qualities. The popular notion is, indeed, that there is something in the external agents which act on the senses *" Bell's Nervous System of the Human Body," p. 114, &c.; and " Barlow's Connection between Physiology and Intellectual Philosophy," pp. G 11. PROGRESSION. 37 similar to the sensations they produce ; that our sensible impres- sions are exact copies of objective realities ; that the quality of sweetness is in the honey, and of fragrance in the rose. But flavor, fragrance, and color, are not inherent in the bodies which excite these sensations, any more than pain resides in the instrument which wounds us. That there arc aptitudes or qualities in the bodies to produce these sensations is unques- tionable, otherwise we should not be conscious of them. But these qualities themselves are known to us only as the external occasions of our sensations. In other words, they have no ex- istence, such as we sensibly apprehend, apart from, and inde- pendently of, the sensations which they occasion. Now this is to know what are called the secondary qualities of matter, and answers to the condition which I have just named, and which is to be regarded as a necessary means of knowledge. For if the human mind itself is to be a manifestation of the Divine mind, it must be true to every material object. The subjective mir- ror must not distort, any more than the objective universe must deceive. 8. But is this the limit of our knowledge of matter ? To speak of its secondary qualities is to imply the existence, real or imaginary, of primary qualities. And such properties there are, (though I can speak of them here only by anticipation,) properties essential to matter, and without which the mind cannot conceive it to exist. Secondary qualities have just been described as those which have no existence such as we sensibly apprehend, independently of the sensations which they occa- sion ; the primary qualities of matter may be described as those which would have existed, even if no sentient being had ever been created such as form and extension. Of these we have notions or ideas, not sensations. They are to be confounded neither with the mind which conceives of them, nor with the sensations which precede them. They are as real for the reason as any mere sensible phenomena are for the senses, and much more objectively distinct. All such phenomena pre-sup- pose them, and are dependent on them. They are no sooner experienced to exist, than their existence is seen by the mind to be necessary. The mind neither produces them nor are they merely the objects of its sensational perceptions ; * but in such * As perception is often used to denote the reference which the mind makes to its own phenomena, through the medium of consciousness, I here employ the phrase sensational perception to denote the same faculty 38 MAN. perceptions it intuitively recognizes their independent and necessary existence as conditions under which matter existed before we came into being, and, indeed, irrespective of all cre- ated minds. 9. These remarks on the primary qualities of matter are, however, anticipatory. But as some notice of the subject at this point appeared necessary, in order to prevent misapprehen- sion, I might here state the result as another condition of human knowledge (h) that the intellectual apprehension of the right object in perception, includes, as far as it goes, the knowledge of the object as it really is in itself. For if external nature is necessarily, as far as it goes, a manifestation of God, and if man is made in order to apprehend this Divine disclosure, his intel- lectual apprehension of the objective, as far as it extends, (for it cannot be absolutely unlimited, and therefore I employ the term apprehension, not comprehension,) must be a knowledge of it as it really is, or as it would have been had he never existed to apprehend it ; otherwise, he will either apprehend a fiction, or an objective reality will exist as a means of Divine manifes- tation, of which he yet knows nothing. 10. Now, if these views are accepted, our theory, if I mistake not, reveals the reason of the distinction in question ; for it contemplates man in a twofold light, as part of a system of Divine revelation, and also as the being to whom the revelation is to be made. In the former capacity, his mind primarily, like that of the animal below him, has to do only with the secondary qualities of matter ; in the latter, as standing apart from the system, and viewing it as a disclosure made to him, his mind, like that of the Divine Discloser, must be capable of appre- hending primary qualities. As a part of nature, he has to do only with the phenomena of nature with things as they seem ; but if, as a reflective, subjective mind, he is to know these in their highest or scientific forms, he must be able to conceive of them in their primary conditions. As a mere epitome of cre- ated nature a microcosm he must know nature through a sensible medium, so that his knowledge will necessarily be rela- tive, even in its kind ; but, as an epitome, or reflection of the Divine Mind, his mind must be able to apprehend nature in its primary characters, as his Maker does, so that its knowledge may be relative only in degree. Relative to the constitution of in its reference to the objects of external mature, through the medium of the senses. PROGRESSION. 39 his mind it must be ; but while, in the former case, it is relative both in kind and in degree, in the latter it is relative in degree only. In its higher capacity, as an image of the Divine Mind, the human intellect regards the primary qualities both as occa- sions of perceptions, and as objects, or as purely objective ; in its lower capacity, as an image of nature, the secondary qualities are related to it only as occasions of perception. The primary qualities of matter are to be regarded as presupposed even by the Divine Creator in all the uses for which he may be pleased to employ it, and therefore the mind of man is constituted to regard them as objective realities ; the secondary qualities are not, strictly speaking, objects which the mind perceives as they really are, but only the external agents or occasions of its per- ceptions. And thus our theory not only recognizes an im- portant distinction which exists in almost every enlightened system of mental philosophy since the time of Locke, but even requires it; or, at least, assigns an important reason for its existence. 11. (*) That, in sensational perception, our knowledge of external things be, not representational, but immediate and direct ; otherwise we should be shut up to the knowledge of our own mental states, and be destitute of the means of authenti- cating our conviction of a material universe. 12. Every contrary theory, indeed the Peripatetic doc- trine, that we obtain the knowledge of material things by shad- owy films, or immaterial species, bearing an exact resemblance to the external object ; the Epicurean notion, that we obtain such knowledge by exquisitely refined but yet material efflux- ions from them ; the Cartesian idea of a modification of the mind itself by the Deity ; the intervening idea of Malebranche ; and Hartley's vibrations, all proceed, either on the assumed axiom that nothing can act where it is not, and had for their aim, therefore, to annihilate the distance between the object and the percipient mind ; or else, on the unfounded persuasion, that things which, like matter and mind, are not homogeneous, cannot act on each other ; and therefore they essayed to devise a subtle sublimated medium between them, or invoked imme- diate Divine agency. But every representational theory, besides utterly failing of its aim, (for if the intervening representation be after all material, the question still recurs how can it affect the mind? if spiritual, how can it be sensible to matter?) actually involves the subject in a difficulty of the first magni- tude. For if that which we know of the external world consist 40 MAN. only of images, or phantasmal representations of it, we can have no certainty that an external world exists, inasmuch as these representations of it ape not the reality itself, and, accord- ing to the hypothesis, we are cut off from the possibility of veri- fying the accuracy of the image, by a comparison of it with the reality. 13. The same result follows if we regard consciousness as a distinct faculty of the mind, co-ordinate with perception ; for if, in addition to the perception of an object, a distinct power is necessary to make me conscious of the perception, I am only conscious after all of a subjective state ; the objective reality is beyond the reach of my consciousness, and its existence inca- pable of proof. Or if, with Brown, it is concluded that of ex- ternal objects, the mind perceives only the sensations, or the states which they occasion, it still follows that we are shut out from the knowledge and proof of everything extra-mental. For even if it be affirmed in reply, that those mental states of which we are conscious are the exact counterparts or resemblances of external realities, Fichte and the idealists are justified in de- manding proof of the supposed resemblance, and as such proof would require the power of instituting a comparison between the subjective copy and the objective original, (the very power which the theory abandons) the proof is impossible. Accord- ingly, it was from such representationalist views that Berkeley inferred the non-existence of a material world, alleging the impossibility of our proving that our sensations are occasioned by material objects. And from this conclusion again, Hume proceeded to infer that as sensations and ideas are the only things of which we are conscious, we are no more justified in affirming the existence of a substance called mind, than we are that of matter ; that all we can say is, that we are the subjects of impressions and ideas, but that of their validity we know nothing. And such appears to be the legitimate deduction of every representationalist theory of human knowledge. 14. Now, in opposition to all such theories, the universal, ineradicable, and intuitive conviction of mankind is, that they perceive the object itself which is before them, and not a more subjective image or mental representation of it. In perception there exist only a percipient and a perceived of any connect- ing medium we are totally unconscious and perception itself is the relation of the two, or the mind's direct cognition of the objective. The great service which Reid rendered to the phi- losophy of mind, consisted in his calling attention to this fact, PROGRESSION. 41 in appealing to the ultimate principles on which it rests, and in showing the utter absurdity of calling these principles in ques- tion. He showed, for example, that in a sensational percep- tion there is present not merely the consciousness of a phe- nomenon, but also the judgment of a real objective existence, and that such judgments are involved in the very constitution of the human mind. And whether, with Reid, we call them principles of common sense ; or, with Hutcheson, metaphysical axioms connate with the mind ; or, with Kant, forms of the understanding ; or, with Brown, principles of intuitive belief we shall find that they cannot be rejected without making rea- soning itself impossible. We should err indeed in representing perception as a simple and independent judgment or act of mind in making itself acquainted with external phenomena independent, that is, of the external phenomena as the exciting occasion of the judgment ; for then it might be still objected that, for aught we know, the mind might, by a previous act, have originated the phenomena perceived, and we should con- sequently be cut off from all certain communication with the objective. We have seen, however, that perception contains an objective element ; that it is a sensational reaction, being called into exercise from without, and that in every perception, the objective is as really present as the subjective. A sensa- tional perception is not the object of my knowledge it is my knowledge itself. It cannot be analyzed into an act and the consciousness of that act ; the act itself exists only as we are conscious of it. I do not know the external world through the medium of such perceptions ; they themselves are my knowl- edge. Abstract the knowledge, and no perceptions are left, I am conscious of self, and I am conscious of not-self; and this consciousness of both, in perception, is my knowledge, direct and immediate. " Consciousness declares our knowledge of material qualities to be intuitive. Nor is the fact, as given, denied even by those who disallow its truth." * And if such be the consciousness of mankind, the truth of the view cannot be questioned without involving every other fact of consciousness in doubt, and, with it, the validity of all human knowledge. 15. (j) That these conditions of sensational perception, or of the relation between the subjective and the objective, be charac- * See, on the " Philosophy of Perception," nn article in the Edin. Rev., No. 103, which, for acuteness, comprehensiveness, and erudition, is a model of philosophical criticism. 4* 42 MAN. terized by uniformity and constancy ; for otherwise both knowl- edge and its communication would be impossible. Accordingly, the senses are themselves organic parts of external nature, and, as such, partake of its stability. Our " confidence in the stability of nature " is unquestioned and universal. The uniformity of the subjective, therefore, is implied in this confidence in the stability of the objective, for it is through the former alone that the latter is verified. 16. Now, if external nature is to be a manifestation of God, and if man is to know it as such, the conditions enumerated appear to be essential to his knowledge. In the generation of knowledge, the first step of the intellectual process, in the order of time, is, undoubtedly, sensation. But then it is only the first step, though without it the second could not be taken ; for in sensational perception, along with the sensation is given the instant belief of an external reality, and in this inseparable union of self and nature the mind finds its knowledge. In speaking of perception, however, we have been logically pre- supposing many of the subjective conditions of knowledge, all of which, as we shall hereafter show, are necessarily implied from the first as the very conditions of experience. 17. With these primary means of knowledge, then, though not with these alone, the first man awoke to life in Eden. The fragrance which nature presented as incense to her new sove- reign, and which he inhaled with his first breath, the melody which welcomed his awakening ear, and the many-colored glo- ries which courted his opening eye, were probably the occa- sions that first quickened his new-made mind into a state of activity, which continue still and will never cease. The sensa- tions of that first hour, of even the first moment the sight, the perfume, the touch of a flower might, had he quitted the earth with those sensations alone, have furnished his mind with an occasion for unending thought. As effects, did they not say to him " there is a cause, a First cause, a self-existent and eternal Creator." As a complex mental change, of which he perceived the cause was not in himself, did it not say to him " there is a world without a world from which you are distinct, and yet to which you are mysteriously related." What an inexhaustible store of materials for thought, then, must he have accumulated by the evening of the first day, when every moment was crowd- ing his mind with new sensations ! Truly, there is a language earlier than that of words ; and in that language nature begins to speak to man from the first moment of his existence. By PROGRESSION. 43 the wise and wonderful arrangement of light and colors, of tastes and odors, one object instructs him on the subject of forms, another on magnitude, and another on distances; one object says to him, " I am to be chosen ; " and another, " I am to be avoided ; I am related to you, and yet different and dis- tinct from you ; I am destined to serve you as long as you ob- serve a certain law ; violate that, and you become my victim." What an incalculable sum of subjects for reflection, then, does every man take away with him when he quits the visible world for the invisible ! How few consider that among these are included the materials of inconceivable regret for a paradise lost, or of eternal joy on account of a paradise regained ! SECT. II. Reflection and Understanding. 1. If all the phenomena of the external world are variously related in and among themselves if they sustained these rela- tions prior to the creation of man, or have an objective reality and if these relations display a portion of that Divine Per- fection which man is to appreciate, he must be able to trace and to apprehend them. 2. In the last section, we regarded sensational perception as giving us the knowledge of separate material phenomena, or individual objective facts, though we remarked that even these perceptions of material objects logically presupposed certain subjective conditions, such as the ideas of self, of personal identity, of causation, and others, as essential to all intelligent experience. But, in addition to the power of observing insu- lated objects, and which alone could be only, at best, the means of very limited knowledge, we are endowed with the power of observing relations among phenomena, which enables us so to classify individual facts under their proper conception, still further to generalize these conceptions, and so to arrange the whole, as indefinitely to enlarge the sphere of our knowledge, and, at the same time, to retain every such addition. But where do these relations exist ? in the subjective, in the ob- jective, or in both ? What are the forms or laws of the mind in thinking ? and what the modes of its pursuit after truth ? 3. As to the first inquiry, we may seek for the laws or rela- tions in question either by making a classification of all sur- rounding things as the objects of our feelings and thoughts ; in which case the leading characteristics or principles of the clas- 44 MAN. sification would give us the required laws ; or else, observing the processes of our own minds, and marking the general laws which regulate them, we may regard these as giving form to all the variety of our mental phenomena. Aristotle pursued the former or objective method classifying things as understood ; Kant pursued the latter or subjective method - analyzing the mind as understanding. Our historical or chronological method embraces both ; for, regarding time as an independent reality, it views everything objective as having a place in it, and requir- ing examination both the phenomena of matter and the phenomena of mind. Accordingly, some of the laws or rela- tions of external phenomena, viewed as the matter of our thoughts, were noticed in the preceding volume. These very relations, however, are relations of which the mind is conscious. Our investigation of these, as known to consciousness, may bring to light others for which no material phenomena will account. Besides which, as the phenomena of the mind are open to inspection, as we are conscious of them, that is, in such a manner as that we can observe them, they are them- selves objective, and, like the material objective, in relation to ivhich they are additional and distinct, they demand distinct examination. Here, then, we find ourselves in a new region of inquiry, and dealing with a new element of knowledge. We are not now exclusively in the external world, examining how matter ope- rates on matter. Nor are we merely, as in the last section, standing on the line which unites matter and mind, and marking the combined result of the laws of both. We are now, in addi- tion, to enter within the mind, and to mark how it acts by and on itself, as subject and object, percipient and perceived ; what becomes of its sensations, what accompanies or follows its per- ceptions. 4. Our second inquiry relates to the forms or laws of the mind in thinking. Locke regarded the truth of our notion respecting anything as depending on the conformity of our idea of it with the outward reality ; Kant, on the contrary, made it to depend on the validity of the understanding itself, from whose constructive laws the outward object receives its form. Now, we believe, in harmony with the former, that the mind, when it classifies external objects truly, does not create the classifica- tion the arrangement existed before man came, he only reads and understands it. But then the power of reading and interpreting the laws of the classification aright, indicates the PROGRESSION. 45 existence of independent laws in his own mind. And, in accord- ance with the latter, we believe that the operations of the under- standing develope laws which external nature only awakens ; but then the very office of awakening them implies that nature has forms of its own corresponding to the laws meaning by form, that part of an object through which it ranks under a law ; that its laws are not created or imposed, but only recognized by the mind. " Every power exerts its agency under some laws that is, in the language of Kant, by certain forms." The manifestations of Creative power are expressed in the laws of nature ; and, for the same reason, it might have been antici- pated of the human mind, that the power of God, in its creation, would be regulated by laws also. But we are now speaking of the mind, not as a manifestation of Creative power, but as the intelligent power to whom the manifestation is made. As a power, therefore, its movements and manifestations are all according to law thus reflecting the legislative power of its Maker. What, then, are the laws which its activity evolves ? In speaking of these, it will be perceived that constant refer- ence is made to those primary ideas or beliefs of the reason, the investigation of which belongs to the next section. As being presupposed by the understanding, however, and as regulating its activity, they are necessarily introduced, in a general man- ner, here. 5. Treating the subject in the order of nature in the Divine manifestation an order therefore already prescribed to us we commence with body and motion. We cannot think of body but as in space. Every body is somewhere, for space is its place. Every body has extension, and occupies space ; has figure, and measures it; has parts, and co-exists in it. Of space without body we can conceive, but not of bc$[y without space. Again, we cannot think of the motion of body, or of events or changes of any kind, except as occurring in time. Every event is viewed by us as before or after; as a first, or second, or third, and so on. Were it not for this law, every event would be to us a first event ; it would want even the character of being first, because for us there would be no second. The relation of successiveness in the world without, has its correlate within in the memory. "Men derive their ideas of duration," says Locke, " from their reflection on the trains of the ideas they observe to succeed one another in their own understandings." But when our consciousness has given us this apprehension of successiveness, there is involved in it 46 MAN. the judgment that this succession takes place in a determinate time. We can conceive of the non-existence of the succession, but not of the time in which it has taken place. Events, then, inhabit time, as bodies occupy space. The continuity of space renders the co-existence of bodies possible ; the continuity of time renders their successive existence possible. Both the co-existence and the successive existence are contingent ; but the space and the time can be thought of only as necessary. And, in a similar manner, any instance of number which is an element of succession, and which, with -succession, measures time involves the idea of its universal applicability. Now here it is to be observed, that a particular body and a particular succession being given, both of which we regard as variable and contingent, the mind finds itself in the possession of ideas of space and time, which it can think of only as un- changeable and absolutely necessary ; and further, that wliile body and succession imply limitation, the ideas of space and time imply the absence of all limitation, indestructibility, and immensity. Leaving now the particular phenomena of body and succession, the reason takes possession of pure space and "time, as its appropriate and rightful domain. Here it pro- ceeds to unfold sciences out of ideas alone : breadthless lines, depthless surfaces, bodiless figures, and abstract numerical rela- tions. These are the pure and the exact sciences geometry, theoretical arithmetic, and algebra regarded as the investigation of the relations of space and number by means of general symbols pure, as incapable of being formed out of material phenomena, and as being unmixed with them ; and exact, as never exceeding and never falling short of the principles on which they are based. And when, the mind, having discoursed with the truths involved in the ideas of space, time, and num- ber, returns freighted with the science of pure mathematics to the region of material phenomena, it finds that all such phenom- ena, whether objects or events, sustain relations to this science, and are subject to its conditions. And it is because these truths of pure mathematics extend to all external phenomena, that such sciences as astronomy and mechanics are termed mixed mathematics ; involving as they do both pure mathemat- ical truths, and the special laws of the phenomena collected by observation. Here, then, in the order of time, we have first a particular sensation occasioned from without, and involving a cognition or perception of body or of succession ; involving, next, the intuition that the body is in space, and the succession PROGRESSION. 47 in time ; and this, again, developing the ideas of the unlimited nature of both space and time ideas, therefore, evolved from within, and not created by any material influence. Thus, we find ourselves in possession of the two important laws or axioms, Mvery body must be in space, and, Every event must be in time. And everything is viewed by the understanding in the relation of co-existence, or of successive existence. 6. All material phenomena are regarded by us as sustaining the relation of cause and effect. " The idea of cause, modified into the conceptions of mechanical cause, or force ; and resist- ance to force, or matter, is the foundation of the mechanical sciences ; that is, Mechanics, (including Statics and Dynamics,) Hydrostatics, and Physical Astronomy. The conception of force is suggested by muscular action exerted ; the conception of matter arises from muscular action resisted." * Our obser- vation of material phenomena, indeed, can give us only a succes- sion of events. And hence, Hume, who admitted no element of thought beyond that which such phenomena supply, concluded that we know nothing of cause and effect beyond the relation of mere sequence that in saying every effect has a cause, we are only affirming that an effect is the latter of two given events, or merely expressing a relation of antecedence and consequence. But every one is conscious that the relation of succession is one thing, and that the relation of cause and effect is another. And the ground of this distinction appears as soon as ever we turn our attention from material to mental phenomena. In the effects which we ourselves produce we are conscious of more than a mere sequence we are conscious of volition and per- sonal effort, and of an event as the result of that casual effort. When, therefore, the relations of succession and of cause and effect coincide, the latter is the principle, the former the conse- quence of the principle. Even Locke affirms that it is from the internal, and not from the external, that the idea of power is first given.t And, having gained our first notion of causality from the consciousness of our own personal effort, we transfer the notion to the changes observable in the material world. The objective does not originate the idea of power, we derive it from our own consciousness of conjoined effort and effect, and apply it to the objective. But whence the felt necessity and * Dr. Whewcll's " Phil, of the Inductive Sciences," vol. i. pp. xxiv. xxr. t B. IL c. xxi. $ 4. 48 MAN. universality of the application? Induction cannot have sup- plied it, for that is limited both in kind and degree. Besides, the mind does not wait for induction ; the production of one single effect, in childhood, is sufficient to give the mind the con- viction in question. And hence all believe that no phenomena can begin to exist in space or in time, without an adequate cause. Evidently, the idea must be grounded in the very con- stitution of the mind. As sensation itself implies the antece- dence of the cause which occasions it, so the recognition of that causal relation implies the antecedence of the idea or principle of causality in the human mind ; an idea which admits of no limitation. And thus, we have, in addition to the preceding axioms, the fundamental truth, Every phenomenon must have a cause. Everything is regarded by us as exhibiting a relation of causal dependence. 7. Another relation under which all phenomena are viewed is the relation of properties to a substance. External objects are revealed to our sensational perceptions as qualities and pro- perties, and in all our natural investigations, we unavoidably assume that these qualities are the qualities of something ; that besides these properties there is a substance of which these are the properties ; and these properties are conceived of as insep- arable from the substance. And hence the idea of substance : its related conceptions of polarity, chemical affinity, and sym- metry, are regarded as the basis of mechanico-chemical and chemical sciences. As we can define matter in no other way than by enumerat- ing the sensible qualities, so, says Stewart, in respect of mind, " we are conscious of sensation, thought, and volition opera- tions which imply the existence of something which feels, thinks, and wills. Every man, too, is impressed with an irre- sistible conviction that all these sensations, thoughts, and voli- tions, belong to one and the same thing to that which he calls himself" The personal existence the self does not come under the eye of reflection, only its manifestations in sen- sation and volition. And what is this self which is so revealed but the subject of these operations ; the unity of our being, as distinguished from the plurality of Consciousness ; its identity, as distinguished from its variable manifestations ; substance, as distinguished from attributes. In a similar manner, property and substance imply each other in the external world. The perception of qualities involves the idea of substance in which they inhere, and of which they are the manifestation. But this PROGRESSION. 49 idea of substance is not obtained by an analysis of these mani- festations, for they presuppose it. The antecedence of this idea is necessary in order to make our apprehension of these quali- ties possible. And the belief of this distinction between sub- stance and properties admits of no limitation. Here, then, we have the additional principle, Every attribute implies a sub- stance. 8. Secondary qualities color, sound, heat, odor, flavor are conceived of as having an existence exterior to us, (though not such as we sensibly apprehend them,) and as sustaining external relations. That all bodies exist in space, we have seen to be an unavoidable and universal axiom. The convic- tion of which we are now speaking, however, advances a step further, and implies that we and they exist in one common space. The idea of externality is essential to all reasoning concerning objective existence : even Berkeley assumed it in his views of optics and acoustics. And further, it might be shown that the idea of an objective is essential to all reasoning : even Fichte, while denying a real objective, found it necessary to suppose an ideal objective, in order to afford the means of activity to the subjective. In other Avords, if God had not created a material objective, the mind, constituted as it now is, would have had to feign one. But as was stated in the preced- ing section, the same act by which objects are perceived, reveals also their externality. Their outness is not merely a form which the mind assumes, but a fact which it discerns. But our pres- ent proposition affirms, still further, that even the secondary qualities of matter exist, and are related, in a sphere exterior to the sentient faculty, though not such as sense apprehends them. And the ultimate aim of optics, acoustics and the doctrine of heat is to determine the nature and laws of the processes by which the impression of any 'given secondary quality is pro- duced. All measures, of sensible qualities, indeed, must ulti- mately refer to the appropriate sense must be supplied, that is, by their sensible effects ; but the effects measured are such as refer us to number and space, or as admit of being estimated in quantity. Thus, having found by an appeal to sense that expansion increases with heat, we can measure heat by expan- sion ; and only in such manner can secondary qualities be- come the subjects of physical science. Secondary qualities, then, as occasions of sensation, are conceived of as objective, or as sustaining relations exterior to the sentient apprehen- sion. 5 50 MAN. 9. Bxternal phenomena are universally regarded as sustain- ing relations of resemblance, involving ideas of identity and difference. It is only in this way that they can either proclaim their origin or answer their end. It might have been expected, therefore, that if relations of magnitude, position, motion, number, proportion, and affinity, exist in the world without, the knowledge of these relations would be found in the human mind. Accordingly, the sciences we have enumerated are the mental expressions and methodical arrangements of these rela- tions, involving the idea of like and unlike, as far as the mind of man has been able to trace them. If relations of kind or natural affinity exist among objects, it is obviously important that they should be classed accordingly. For not to be able to recognize likeness where it exists, would be to reduce nature to a chaos of isolated and incongruous objects, and to impose on the memory a burden under which it would speedily sink. On the other hand, not to be able to recognize differences where they exist, would be to reduce nature to a scene of uninstructive sameness, in which all distinctions would be confounded. Now, by certain processes. of abstraction and generalization, the understanding distributes objects ac- cording to these distinctions ; and, hence, in the " classificatory sciences " we have such divisions as species and genus, class and order. But a species is composed of individuals. And what is the condition of the individuality of an object but this, that its identification shall be possible, that reasoning concerning it shall be possible. This supposes that the object has inseparable pro- perties, or an essential constitution. And hence our conception of species, leaving behind all the accidents and unessential parts of the individual, associates all such individuals as have the same essential properties and constitution, and indicates them by a common name. A genus, again, is a collection of species, in which, leaving out of view what may be peculiar to this or that species, we combine the characters common to the whole, so as to be able to reason concerning the collection as a whole, and to apply to it a common name. Thus, every individual is a representative of the species to which it belongs ; every species is a representative of the genus to which it belongs; every genus, of its order ; and so on through each ascending step of classification. In contemplating several objects, we abstract the points in which they agree, disregarding the differences ; we 'then generalize, by giving to these objects a name applicable to them in respect of this agreement. By this generalization we PROGRESSION. 51 obtain a conception of the common characteristic of many ob- jects. So that conception, differing alike from the images of Realism, and from the mere terms of Nominalism, identifies that common feature of resemblance wherever it exists, and retains and expresses it ever after. And this conception of resemblance, based on the ideas of identity and difference, is another form or law under which we feel the necessity of view- ing whatever receives our attention. 10. But why these laws of the understanding? The question reminds us of another conviction under which the mind acts that of design or final cause. Means and ends are the objects of its incessant pursuit. In respect to organized bodies, in which the structure of every part points to a purpose, and where we unavoidably speak of disease as failure of a proper end, the conception of a final cause is so obvious, that even they who reject it under one form, will be found to be directly affected by it under another form.* Thus, also, in reply to the question relating to the ends answered by the laws of the understanding, it is evident that, if the Divine manifestation be progressive, the succession of events which it implies must be met by a sense of successiveness ; if it be diversified, the con- ception of identity and difference are necessary, alike to bind individuals into classes, and to analyze classes into individuals ; if it be divinely originated, the idea of causation is necessary in order to trace events to a First and Efficient Cause ; and if it have a purpose, no less indispensable is the idea of a Final Cause in order that the mind may be ever moving in the direc- tion of the end ; and so of the other laws of thought which we have noticed. Of the law of which we are now speaking, it is only necessary to add that it is the idea of Design which puts the guiding clue into the hand of scientific research, that it evolves system from phenomena once considered chaotic, and gives us the assurance of its presence in the most remote and unexplored regions of creation. The conception of a Final Cause is inseparably involved in the operations of the human mind. 11. Logic. These remarks prepare us, partly, to reply to the question proposed relative to the modes of pursuing and in- vestigating truth. The mind, we see, has laws of its own, and hence the possibility of Logic as a science. Besides per- ceiving the phenomena of the external world, it can reproduce * See " The Pre- Adamite Earth," p. 120. 52 MAN. the phenomena of its own consciousness which these perceptions had occasioned, and can observe and analyze them, and thus deduce the laws of its own operations. Its thoughts, indeed, are primarily occasioned by an outward influence ; it thinks about something ; but, subsequently, dispensing with that some- thing which may be regarded as the material of the thoughts, it can bend its attention to the thoughts themselves. In mathe- matics, for example, it has thoughts about quantity ; but, then, leaving the quantity out of view, it can make the thoughts themselves the objects of its exclusive contemplation. And to mark the forms which the thoughts assume when thus detached from their matter the laws which the process of thinking and reasoning evolves and the order which they observe, is the province of the science of Logic. Its primary office is not to teach the mind to think ; but to expound the necessary laws of thought, or how the mind must think. On this account logic is the most abstract of all the sciences ; for, while every other science involves a code of principles or laws respecting the objects of which it treats, logic abstracts these very laws from their material objects, expounding the laws which regulate them, and forming them into a code. 12. Induction. But if the mind have laws of its own, and if the world without have laws of its own also, may not the for- . mer be employed in the discovery of the latter ? The laws of the mind, indeed, may be more than co-extensive with the laws of nature ; may extend to higher relations and to other worlds ; but as far as the field of nature extends, may it not appear that " deep calleth unto deep " the logic of the mind to the logic of nature ? It is true that the mind had long operated sponta- neously on the world without had made* considerable progress in science, and art, and the institutions of society, before ever its logical operations were made to assume a scientific form. And the analysis of this science, and art, and external manifes- tation of itself, greatly facilitated the discovery of its own laws of activity. For every truth which the mind had expressed or embodied in the world without, was an exponent of a law within. And, now, having observed its operations and system- atized these laws within, it can emerge again to employ them in the regulation of its movements, and in testing the truth of its inferences, relative to external phenomena. This is the Logic of Induction. Beginning with the observation, it may be, of a single fact, the mind aims to ascend from this point to the expression of the general law of which that fact, and innumer- PROGRESSION. 53 merable others, are the exponents. The process by which it tracks and verifies the law through wide and various ramifica- tions is that of induction ; according to which, observed facts are so connected as to yield new truths; and these truths, regarded in their turn as facts, are so associated as to produce yet higher truths; and so onwards through a succession of higher and wider generalizations. And the province of induc- tive Logic is to test the truth inferred in this manner from facts, and thus silently and indirectly to discipline the mind in its spontaneous movements after knowledge. To this subject we shall advert again when we come to speak of the Deductive method. 13. Art. The objects of nature in all their endless beauty, and variety, and elaborate perfection, are works of Divine art ; for they were all conceived in the infinite mind of the Maker, and embody and express the laws of the Divine Intelligence. In works of human art, the procedure of the Infinite Artist and Mechanist is feebly copied. Taking a product of the Divine Hand, and which is susceptible of other forms and applications than that which is already given to it, the human artist aspires to impress it with one of these new characters. But " the pro- phetic eye of art " is " the mind's eye ; " the forecasting con- ception of the mind, aiming to express itself outwardly accord- ing to its own laws of proportion, congruity, harmony, and grace, but in obedience to the pre-existing laws of the material objects and laws with which it works. 14. Here, then, is a second means of knowledge. The last section gave us objects, but unconnected; this has given us their mutual relations. By perception, the impressions of sense are given as facts ; the understanding gives the relations of these facts, disclosed by reflection, as science. The laws of causation, successiveness, and resemblance, are found, in opera- tion, alike in the world within and the world without. The relations of the subjective answer to those of the objective, and to each other ; so that all the objects and the ideas which come under these relations are found to be capable of suggesting one another. But if such be the correspondence of the mind to objective nature, how subtle, complicated, and immense must be the web of its associations ! Consequently, how vast and varied the means of knowledge thus brought within its reach ! Having looked abroad over creation, man can then look within and scan the wondrous instrument his own mind by which he has done it : can place its past operations and their results 5* 54 MAN. before him objectively, and view them as if they formed merely an additional phenomenon in the aggregate of things existing in the world without. As the visible objects of creation are facts expressing for his observation Divine thoughts, so his own thoughts are additional facts submitted to his notice for the same end. 15. The pre-existing relations of the material system into which man has been introduced, were arranged with a pro- spective regard to the mind which is to trace them. They are made for the man, and not the man for them. He is their proximate or medial end. So that while it may be proper to say that, chronologically, the objective determines what the subjective shall be, it is right to say that, logically, nature was preconfigured to the destined constitution of the human mind. According to Kant, indeed, the qualities we attribute to out- ward objects are really derived from our own minds, so that the science of logic must exactly correspond with the science of physics, or rather, they would be identical. But the truth is, so nicely are the objective and the subjective adjusted, that they expound each other. A lofty intelligence, on surveying the creation before man was made, might have foretold what the characteristics of his mental and bodily constitution would be ; or the same intelligence, had it been possible for him to meet with man in some distant tract of the universe, and with- out previously knowing anything of the planet for which he was destined, might have accurately conceived its all-related constitution. So exquisite is the adjustment of which we speak, that, were it to be deranged in a single principal relation, there is ground to conclude, that not only might it make all future progress in knowledge impossible, but perplex and render una- vailing all that we now possess ; but that, as long as it remains undisturbed, every new and well-directed effort of the mind ensures some new discovery of truth, and every such discovery imparts additional power for making further progress still. SECT. 111. Reason, Speculative and JReaZized, or Ideal and Applied.* 1. If in addition to the sensible phenomena of external nature, and to their objective relations, there be corresponding * The distinction of the division I have adopted of sensational per- ception, reflective understanding, and rational beliefs from that of Kant's PEOGRESSION. 55 objects infinitely greater corresponding, that is, as time to eternity, or as the finite to the infinite and if the idea or belief of their existence would tend to exalt our conceptions of God more even than all the material, and the relations of the material indirectly ascertained, then man may be expected either to have this idea or a native susceptibility to have it awakened in his mind. 2. We have seen that the mind is sensibly related to every external object, and that if external objects are related by com- mon laws, so also the mind has corresponding laws of intelli- gence. But we have seen also that all these objective relations point to other and higher objects ; they awaken ideas of certain principles or truths metaphysically necessary in order to account for their existence. While speaking of the laws of the under- standing, we were constantly and unavoidably presupposing these principles. What are these ultimate truths or beliefs ? In order to illustrate their nature, we may refer to the following. We have found that no object can be conceived of without the accompanying idea of space no succession can be imagined without the accompanying idea of duration no mental opera- tion be recalled without involving the idea of time in which the act is performed. Every change necessarily presupposes a cause, and involves the principle of causality of which the change is a particular manifestation ; and every quality or phe- nomenon involves the conviction of a substratum in which it inheres, a substance of which the quality is a manifestation. Here are four objects of thought body, succession, change, quality ; and here are the four conditions of these objects re- spectively space, time, cause, and subject. The former may vary ; we can conceive of any particular instances of them as even non-existent ; but the non-existence of the latter is incon- ceivable. Their existence, then, is antecedent to the existence of all sensible phenomena; all phenomena presuppose them, and without them could not exist. Then they exist inde- pendently of all phenomena : our ideas of them are not the realities themselves, neither do we create the ideas in the act of knowing them. And without limitation ; for even to think away the limited and the finite, is to leave the unlimited and the infinite ; the former presupposes the latter, and is logically present in one and the same act of thought Then, further, . . ^ sense, understanding, and reason, if not apparent already, will become sufficiently clear as we advance. 56 MAX. the ideas of them must have existed in the Divine Mind ante- cedent to the means employed for their manifestation, and in order to it ; and the mind of man must have been pre-consti- tuted for the development of the same ideas, otherwise these means would be undecipherable. In the Mind of the Infinite Creator, indeed, the ideas preceded the production of the phe- nomena or laws by which they are indicated ; for the law is the idea made objective ; hence, Lord Bacon " describes the laws of the material universe as ideas in nature. Quod in natura naturata Lex, in natura naturante Idea dicitur." In the mind of man, on the contrary, the laws or phenomena take prece- dence, in the order of succession, of the ideas ; for as the ideas existed out of the relation of time, and independently of it, it was not until the phenomena were given that the conditions were supplied to man, a being of sense and time, by which he could become conscious of or apprehend the ideas. But the ideas themselves, once apprehended, are as distinct irom the phenomena for the human mind, according to its nature, as they are for the Mind of the Divine Original. To a party speaking, the thought is first ; to the party listening, the speech ; for each, the thought is equally distinct from the speech, and, it may be, though hardly half-uttered, it is clearly apprehended. In a similar manner, the ideas of the Divine Mind uttered, or rather hinted, in the laws of nature, are seized and responded to by a mind made in its own image, and having them implied in its very constitution. 3. Now, ideas such as those referred to, (and of which we shall have to notice some not susceptible of expression in material phenomena,) are to be regarded as characteristic of the reason, the highest intellectual prerogative of man. (a) That they are not the creatures of experience is evident, for they are characterized by universality, whereas experience can testify only to particular cases ; they are characterized by necessity, whereas experience can know nothing of what will be or of what must be. But may not these ideas be the ultimate expres- sions of that generalizing faculty which collects all the individ- ual results of experience, and forms them into a whole ? Still such generalizations can only give us experimental truths, and truths therefore destitute of the properties of universality and necessity which distinguish the ideas or beliefs of the rea- son. Neither can the imagination be supposed to originate them, for this faculty has to do, not with the necessary, but with the possible. Nor can any strength of mere association PROGRESSION. 57 account for their felt necessity ; for while the dissociation of certain things which we have never seen otherwise than to- gether, would not greatly surprise us, the severance or contradic- tion of other things which we have never seen illustrated, it may be, more than once, is utterly inconceivable. And the only satisfactory explanation of the difference is, that while the former would only contradict our experience, the latter would offer violence to our reason. The one is merely the correction of an inference ; the other, an assault on our mental constitu- tion. 4. (b) Accordingly, there are some truths which exist in and for the mind alone. The pure mathematical sciences consist of the evolved relations of some of these truths. Their only principles are definitions and axioms ; their only method of proof that of deduction. So truly are they fundamental, that the progress of the principal inductive sciences depends on their cultivation. Their truths are the last authority of all judgments on the subjects to which they relate. They are pure, as being incapable of perfect realization in material bodies. External nature knows nothing of mere abstract truth. All its objects are concrete ; the abstract is only given in them. But though the truths in question have never been, never can be, objectively realized, their subjective reality possesses all the certainty of our intuitive consciousness. No exception can limit their universality. No conceivable relation or power can affect their necessity. 5. (c) A prior idea or purpose exists in the mind, and is necessary for it, in every inquiry after truth. Every experi- ment is a question, and every question is founded on some idea of the answer. In every such effort, the mind is deductive before it is inductive; synthetic before it is analytic. How, inquires Plato, can you expect to find, unless you have a gen- eral notion of what you seek? Equally does Bacon himself teach that the mind must bring to every experiment a precogi- tation, or antecedent idea, as the ground of that prudens qucestio, or fore-casting query, which he pronounces to be the prior half of the knowledge sought. " This conception," says Jouffroy, " is the fundamental axiom in all the sciences of facts, the torch which guides their researches, and the soul which animates their method." To supply such conceptions the mind is im- pelled by the idea that till phenomena have causes and laws, and that by assigning these the phenomena will be accounted for. And as the reason contains in itself the conditions of all 58 MAN. science, so its irresistible aim is to trace all science to its last results, and to harmonize it in one system. 6. We have seen that the Ideas or ultimate facts of the reason are not acquired by generalization like the facts of the under- standing. Unlimited space, for example, is not a general idea derived from connecting together a number of particular spaces. To conceive of it as otherwise than all-embracing and bound- less is impossible. Plow, then, do these ideas originate, or what is their relation to the mind ? That they are not innate, in the sense of being already present to the consciousness when its activity begins, and needing nothing from without to quicken them, is obvious; for they never arise in the mind at first otherwise than as the concomitant of some sensational percep- tion. Kant opens his great work with this sentence, " That all our knowledge begins with experience does not admit of a doubt." Equally clear is it, on the other hand, that they are not created by experience, however they may be occasioned by it, or begin with it ; for every act of the understanding pre- supposes them, nor would experience itself be possible without them. They must then be regarded as connate to the mind, and as forming the necessary products of the reason preconsti- tuted to their formation. So that although requiring for their development the outward solicitations of experience, when called into activity they unfold truths which interpret that ex- perience, and give law to the understanding. 7. In their development, then, there are two orders of rela- tions to be noticed the logical and the chronological. For example : " the idea of body and the idea of space being given, which supposes the other ? which is the logical condition, or that which authorizes the admission of the other? Evidently, the idea of space. We cannot admit the idea of body without pre- supposing the idea of a place for that body ; " * and this illus- trates our meaning in saying that without the facts or truths of the reason, experience itself would be impossible ; for without the presupposition of space, the admission of a body would be inconceivable. But there is also a chronological order to be noticed. For it by no means follows that because a given idea logically authorizes another, therefore it must historically precede it. If we had not first the notion of body, we should never have the idea of space. No perceptible point of time intervenes, but yet it is necessary that, in the order of succession, * M. Cousin's Examination of Locke's Essay, c. ii. PROGRESSION. 59 the perception of body should precede, in order that the idea of space which contains it might be evolved in the consciousness. Experience, then, is the chronological condition or antecedent of knowledge ; the ultimate facts of the reason are the logical conditions or antecedents of experience, and therefore of knowl- edge. 8. This distinction between the logical and chronological order of our ideas, introduces, and helps to illustrate, an im- portant distinction between the ideas of the reason, distributing them into two classes. Our section on sensational perception gave us the phenomena of external nature. Our section on the reflective understanding gave us the fact of our own sub- jective existence. Chronologically, the objective precedes the subjective ; sensation occasioned from without is the antecedent of the knowledge of the ego. Logically, the. subjective pre- cedes the objective ; for it is the condition of the sensation. In the present section, we have to do with the ultimate and all- embracing truths which contain and account for both the finite subjective and the finite objective. "We have now, therefore, reached a point in which both these finites, percipient and per- ceived, are to be regarded as objective to the Infinite Mind the point (I would say it reverently) occupied by the Divine Creator of both, before either was called into existence. There must have been certain truths or facts logically or necessarily presupposed by the Divine Creator himself, in order to creation and Divine manifestation. And to these necessary truths, the universe, including the mind itself, must be related as to the conditions of its existence, themselves unconditioned; so that man, if he is to apprehend these ultimate relations, must be able to presuppose these truths also. 9. Now it will be found, I submit, on due reflection, that among the presuppositions in question are the four to which reference has been already made. The Divine purpose to create neces- sarily presupposed that Substance, or infinite Being, of which all creation should be the manifestation ; that Activity, which was equal to the causation of the objective universe ; that infinite space in which all created things should be placed ; and that infinite time, in which all the successions of events should occur. But, next, is there not a characteristic common to the former two of these presuppositions which do not belong to the latter ? Time and space are necessary only as conditions of creation ; Being and Activity are necessary as conditions, and as some- thing more. The relation of the former to a creation is nega- 60 MAN. tive, consisting in the absence of external obstacles ; while that of the latter is positive, and constitutes the internal ground of a creation, is both the efficient cause, and the sufficient reason, of it, 10. Further, the Infinite Subjective is here contemplated in a twofold relation as Substance, and as Activity or Cause. To conceive of Substance without the eternally self-contained Activity, which in its objective operation we call Cause, is as impossible as to conceive of Activity without Substance for Mind necessarily involves the idea of activity. But on coming forth and taking possession of Space and Time in an objective manifestation of properties and effects, two classes of truths appear those which relate to the possibility of a creation, and those which relate to its actuality ; or, ideas antecedently and unconditionally necessary, and the truths belonging to these ideas as now caused to be embodied or signified objectively, and only conditionally necessary conditionally, that is, on the purpose to create. Here, then, is truth unconditionally, and truth conditionally necessary ; the latter logically reposing on the former. And this difference leads to a corresponding dis- tinction in the Reason itself, revealed in the different mode of its action, and in the different character of the objects to which it is directed a distinction which may be designated as spec- ulative, and as applied or practical.* Reason as practical has to do with truth conditionally necessary with the facts of ex- perience supplied by the understanding' to an induction of which it impels the understanding by the conviction that they involve a necessary truth, and in order to disengage that truth. As the speculative reason, it has to do with truths abstract and unconditional, and which have their evidence in themselves. In the former case, it deals with truth actualized truth in the concrete ; and its office is to employ and direct the inductive understanding so as to elicit from its concrete materials all that relates to the abstract and necessary, and of which it has already the a priori idea ; in the latter, it has to do with truths not real- ized, nor fully realizable, in the sensible world such as the pure truths of Geometry. As speculative reason, it is consti- tutive, determining our ideas or beliefs ; as practical, it is direc- tive, regulating our mental activity. 11. Thus reason has a subjective and an objective aspect, in * Not employing the term practical in the Kantian or moral sense, but as distinguished from speculative. PROGRESSION. 61 which respect it harmonizes with those operations of the mind which we have already considered. As the subjective sensation points objectively in perception, and as the subjective reflection points objectively in the understanding, so the reason as specu- lative deals with truth subjectively necessary, while as practical it contemplates so much of that truth as is actualized as a means to an end : in the former instance, proclaiming its ultimate authority by applying a necessary truth to a particular concep- tion, and superseding the necessity of experience ever after ; in the latter, universalizing a particular fact as true for all space and time.* 12. What is the Form in which the facts of reason exist in the mind ? It appears evident that the only notion which the understanding can have of the unlimited is merely the negation of the limited. Every positive notion suggests a negative notion suggests the knowledge of a thing by what it is not. Hence, the division of the attributes of God adopted by some theologians into Negative and Positive, the negative attributes of infinity, eternity, and 'independence, denoting merely the absence of the limitation and dependence belonging to our own being. But though the infinite cannot be construed to the un- derstanding, it is within the province of the reason to affirm its existence. Though not comprehensible as an object of perfect knowledge, it is apprehensible as an object 'of thought ; though a negative truth to the conceptive understanding, to the affirm- ing reason it is positive, the very condition of its own possi- bility, and regulative of all the operations of the understanding. And as the possibility of our intelligence rests ultimately on facts of reason which, as primitive, can be explained by nothing more simple, nor proved by anything more certain, they are to be regarded not so much in the forms of cognitions as of beliefs. And hence, we prefer denominating the primary affirmations of reason as Beliefs. 13. I am aware of the diverse opinions entertained on this subject by the most distinguished metaphysicians; and would be only regarded as deferentially indicating my own convictions. * For example, our own voluntary effort having given us the idea of causation, in mechanical science we apply the necessary truths of causa- tion to force and motion, on the ground that what is true of the former is true of the latter ; and the practical reason gives universality to the laws of force and motion, on the ground that what is true of them in one place and time, is true always and everywhere, or that time and space are, as we have seen, only conditional not causative. 6 62 MAN. "With Kant, I believe that the reason has the notion of the infi- nite and the unconditioned, and has it as a regulative prin- ciple of the mind itself; but, differing from him, I believe this notion to be more than a mere ens rationis, existing in and for the mind alone ; that it has an objective reality with which it is truly conversant, and the existence of which it is entitled to believe on the same ground as that on which it believes the existence of the limited and the conditioned, that of conscious- ness. With M. Cousin, I regard the infinite as admitting of -''apperception," or as apprehensible by thought, but must utterly reject the proposition that it is also comprehensible, in the sense of being reducible to the compass of our conscious- ness, or exhaustible within it. My knowledge constitutes the ground of my belief, but neither prescribes the internal nature of its objects, nor measures the extent of its domain. With Sir William Hamilton, I regard the notion of the unconditioned and the infinite as necessary, but then I do not receive it as such merely on mental compulsion, or in order to escape a contradic- tion, but as a fact which I can think of as possible, as well as feel to be necessary. 14. If I am required argumentatively to prove that I can think of the infinite as positive and possible, I can only appeal to the consciousness itself, of which it is an ultimate fact; and as such, and for the very reason that it is such, its analysis is impossible, and to attempt it an absurdity. And here, it ap- pears to me, lies the secret of the difference between those who regard the notion of the unconditioned as being only the nega- tive of the conditioned, and those who deem it apprehensible as a positive. No mere argumentative effort to bring the sub- ject within the limit of the understanding no ascent from the finite and the conditioned in the direction of the unconditioned, can ever conduct us beyond the point where, feeling that we have reached the end of that which we know, we also feel that beyond there must be something more which we do not know. " We are thus taught the salutary lesson," (says Sir W. Hamil- ton, very admirably,) " that the capacity of thought is not to be constituted into the measure of existence, and are warned from recognizing the domain of our knowledge as necessarily co- extensive with the horizon of our faith. And, by a wonderful revelation, we are thus, in the very consciousness of our ina- bility to conceive aught beyond the relative and finite, inspired with a belief in the existence of something unconditioned be- yond the sphere of all comprehensible reality." Now, here it PROGRESSION. 63 is admitted that we attain to " a revelation " which " inspires us with a belief in the existence of something unconditioned." But the question is, whether this revelation and inspired belief of an unconditioned something, and therefore of a positive, is a mere inference of the understanding, or a truth of the reason, independent of all argumentative processes, and presupposed by them. That it cannot be the former, is already admitted by both parties. If, then, it be the latter, its very nature as a primary truth of reason forbids its analysis. It is a belief of something of a positive objective reality. It is a revelation in- spiring belief a self-revealing light. It admits only of appeal, and must be presumed. To think either of decompounding it, or of measuring its evidence, is as absurd as to think of carry- ing a line around the unlimited of which it is the revelation, and for the very reason that it is its revelation. Every demon- stration is unwound from something indemonstrable and given, or believed as actual. To require a reason for the possibility of the belief, beyond the fact of its reality as given in the con- sciousness, is to attempt to ascertain what precedes the first, or " what supports the foundation." 15. I would suggest, that much of the difficulty attending this subject is imposed by the mind itself, and arises from the attempt to conceive of infinity, instead of an infinite Being. To think even of a limited abstraction requires an effort ; but to think of an abstraction unlimited, is an aggravation of the task, from which the mind soon recoils. Nor is it called to make the attempt. The doctrine of infinity comes to us clothed in the attributes of a personal God. " The ratio formalis of In- finity may not be understood by us clearly and distinctly, but yet the Being which is infinite may be. Infinity itself cannot be on this account, because we conceive it by denying all limita- tions and bounds to it ; but the Being which is infinite we ap- prehend in a positive manner, although not adequately, because we cannot comprehend all which is in it. As we may clearly and distinctly see the sea, though we cannot discover the bounds of it, so may we clearly and distinctly apprehend some perfec- tions of God, when we fix our minds on them, although we are not able to grasp them altogether in our narrow and confined intellects, because they are infinite." * In speaking of the ultimate facts of the reason, then, as be- liefs, we must not be supposed to be measuring their certainty, * Stillingfleet's Origines Sacrce, B. HL cc. i. v. vi. 64 MAN. or to have any reference whatever to their logical value. We employ the term as serving both to denote their primordial and independent character, and to prevent the inference to which the use of the term cognitions might lead, that we deem it possible to know, in the sense of comprehending, the infinite. Know it in the true logical sense of knowledge, we do if by knowledge is meant firm belief of what is true, on sufficient (/rounds * for consciousness itself attests its truth. And though, in their ultimate character, the facts of reason transcend the understanding, yet as beliefs of objective realities, as positive facts, they are generative of truths to which the understanding is competent. As primary positive beliefs, they may be re- garded as standing midway between the Infinite Objective and the inductive understanding ; affirming the existence of the for- mer, constituting the ground for the operations of the latter, har- monizing and uniting both. The understanding is met in its laboring ascent from the sensible, by the reason in its descent from communion with the invisible and the unlimited ; and in the coincidence of the two consists our intelligence. 1C. As to the Number of our original beliefs, no arbitrary catalogue can suffice. The true classification of the elements of reason must be founded in a reason which shall comprehend and account for them all. " Perhaps a practical standard of some convenience would be," says an able metaphysician, " that all reasoners should be required to admit every principle of which the denial renders reasoning impossible.f This is only to require that a man should admit, in general terms, those prin- ciples which he must assume in every particular argument, and which has been assumed in every argument, against their ex- istence. It is, in other words, to require that a disputant should not contradict himself; for every argument against the funda- mental laws of thought absolutely assumes their existence in the premises, while it totally denies it in the conclusion." * Archbishop Whateley's, Logic, B. IV. c. ii. 2, Note. t " This maxim, (says Sir J. Mackintosh, in his Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy, 6,) which contains a sufficient answer to all universal scep- ticism, is significantly conveyed in the quaint title of an old and rare book, entitled, Scivi sive Sceptices et Scepticorum a Jure Disputationis exclusio, by Thomas White. ' Fortunately] says the illustrious sceptic himself, [Hume,] ' since Reason is incapable of dispelling these clouds, Nature herself suffices for that purpose, and cures me of this philosophical delirium ;' almost in the sublime and immortal words of Pascal, 'La Raison confond les Dog- matistcs, et la Nature les /Sceptiques.' " PROGRESSION. 65 17. The categories of Aristotle were not intended to include the infinite ; they were formed on the principle of regarding the basis of every law of thought as a property inherent in the out- ward object ; and they only assumed to distribute the finite. The categories of Kant, on the other hand, were formed on the principle that the mind, projecting itself on the object, beholds in the properties of nature nothing but the reflection of itself, and thus obtains a knowledge of the laws or conditions of its own activity. And in the same manner, his three irreducible ideas of the reason, the soul, the universe, and God, are purely sub- jective, and, as such, cannot be allowed to authenticate any objective knowledge whatever. In dealing with the same great problem, M. Cousin reduces the whole phenomena of reason to three inseparable elements the infinite, the finite, and the re- lation between them ; or substance, causality, and the relation between them. Now, that everything may be viewed under this three-fold aspect is unquestionably true ; but so also may they be viewed under the three-fold aspect of identity, difference, and the relation between them ; of unity, plurality, and the re- lation between them ; and of many others. a Indeed, he himself specifies many similar three-fold forms of classification. But the question is, whether some of these do not include new and distinct ideas. Admitting that identity, unity, eternity, all meet in the one infinite substance the glorious and incomprehen- sible God yet, unless it can be shown that the idea of justice is necessarily included in them, or that it is one with the idea of final cause, or that our ideas of plurality, imperfection, and externality, are all one, the catalogue cannot be deemed com- plete as an enumeration of original ideas, however great its merit may be as a classification of the objects to which the ideas relate. Doubtless, there is a point from which each of these methods the objective, the subjective, and the ontological appears to peculiar advantage ; and a still higher point from which the just results of all would be seen harmonized and com- pleted. And if ever that point be attained to say nothing of the ministry of theology in pointing the way all the primor- dial revelations there disclosed will, doubtless, be found to be in perfect coincidence with the presuppositions of inspired theology. 18. In accordance with this conviction, I have already stated that if there were facts which the Divine Creator himself had to presuppose in order to creation and self-manifestation, and if man is the being to whom the manifestation is to be made, man must be able to presuppose them also ; for not to be able to do 6* 66 MAX. this, would be not to recognize its relation to the necessary and the unlimited, and, therefore, not to the Infinite Creator himself. And if the right specification of the elements of reason must be itself founded in a reason which shall embrace and account for them all, I believe the reason now hypothetically stated to be the true one. The proposition requires that there should be a finite subjective, capable of receiving the manifestation, and a finite objective as a means of making it ; and, accordingly, we have seen that the notion of self, or of the ego, is implied in our every sensation, thought, word, and act, and is necessarily a primitive and universal notion ; we have seen also that this no- tion supposes the idea of a non-ego to which it stands opposed, and by which I am made conscious of my own distinct individu- ality ; and that all the ideas we have named of space and time, substance and cause, externality, resemblance, and design (ideas of perfection and right are hereafter to be considered) are evolv- ed in the process. Again, the proposition supposes that there was a point of duration when both these Unites began to be, and when, with a vieAV to it, all the ideas enumerated must have been present to the Infinite Mind as so many possibilities ; and, accordingly, we have seen that our ideas of self and nature ne- cessarily imply correlative ideas of the' infinite and unlimited, and that the reason authoritatively proclaims them. 19. What ground have we for relying on the Certainty of our knowledge of the objective ? "A strange thing this ! exclaims Cousin. A being perceives or knows out of his own sphere. He is nothing but himself, and yet he knows something that is not himself. His own existence is, for himself, nothing but his own individuality ; and yet, from the bosom of this individual world which he inhabits, and which he constitutes, he attains to a world foreign to his own. That the mind of man is provided with these wonderful powers, no one can doubt ; but are their reach and application legitimate ? and does that which they reveal really exist? The intellectual principles have an in- contestable authority in the internal world of the subject ; but are they equally valid in reference to their external objects P' This is the most profound problem of speculative philosophy ; for it involves the certainty of human knowledge. How do we know that things are what they appear ? How do we cross from psychology to ontology ; or effect a passage from the con- scious mind to the existence of things in themselves ? The sceptic affirms that the mind is directly conscious only of its own operations, and that to assume the existence of anything objective and independent, is an assumption without proof. PROGRESSION. 67 20. (a) On which it may be remarked, first, that, hypothe- tically admitting the existence of an objective universe, it is im- possible to conceive of any other or higher ground of belief in the objective, than that which we possess in our own conscious- ness. Understanding by the subjective ah 1 that belongs to the t thinking subject, and by the objective whatever belongs to the ' object of thought, we ask, how could we believe in the objective except on the faith of the subjective ? How would it be possi- ble for us to know the external, but by an internal principle ? It is I who know. My faculty of knowing is my own. To know or believe an existence, then, must be an actual state, or fact, of my own consciousness. 21. (b) Equally inconceivable are any reasons to account for or establish the veracity of consciousness. The capacity of consciousness necessarily implies a structure and functions, laws of action, and whatever is essential in order to render experi- ence and reasoning possible. These laws and beliefs of the in- tellectual nature must plainly be ultimate. And if ultimate, they cannot be defined, since no words can explain them to him who has not the ideas previously. No argument can corrobo- rate them, since all argument rests on them. No evidence can add to their certainty, for they are already facts of conscious- ness. Did their veracity admit of explanation and increase, it could only be owing to their not being ultimate, and to their be- ing reducible to facts which were ultimate. 22. (c) A universal scepticism then cannot be otherwise than self-contradictory ; questioning the authority of the very princi- ple on which it must rely while questioning it. " It is an at- tempt of the mind to act without its structure." Like Hume, the sceptic may go the length of saying I do not merely affirm that we have not reached the truth, but that we never can ; that which I deny is the possibility of knowledge. The very struc- ture of the mind forbids it. But how, we ask, is this conclusion reached? how, but by admitting the truth of the testimony of consciousness to one class of phenomena, the subjective, and de- nying it to another class, the objective : by assuming its truth at first for the express purpose of denying it afterwards. To question it at all, is to render it inconsistent for the questioner to form an opinion upon any subject, to inquire, to doubt, or even to think. " At this point, scepticism itself expires ; for, as Descartes says, Let a man doubt of everything else, he can- not doubt that he doubts." 23. (d ) In answer to the great question, then, What is the 68 MAN. relation between the subjective and the objective ; or, What is the authority of our belief in the objective? we reply, the identical authority on which we believe in the subjective; or, the only authority we have for believing at all. "In perception, consciousness gives as an ultimate fact a belief of the know- ledge of the existence of something different from self. We only believe that this something exists, because we believe that we know (are conscious of) this something as existing; and the belief of the knowledge of the existence, necessarily involves the belief of the existence. Both are original, or neither. Does consciousness deceive us in the former, it necessarily deludes us in the latter ; and if the latter, though a fact of consciousness, be false, the former, because a fact of consciousness, is not true?"* Consciousness, then, declares that our knowledge of the external world is direct and immediate ; and it is because this knowledge is intuitive that it is adequate to the reality itself. The mind, and that with which it is occupied, being both included in the unity of consciousness, give an ultimate fact which cannot be analyzed. 24. (e) But consciousness gives us more than the material worldt^ We have seen that in giving us the visible, it gives us, at the same time, the invisible which it presupposes and involves; and thus it launches us into the unlimited and the infinite. Now, on the grounds already stated, we must either call in question the authority of consciousness in itself, or admit its authority without reserve for all the facts which it attests, and therefore for the facts of the universal and the invisible. For example, every event, as interpreted by reason, supposes a cause ; reason proclaims the universality of this truth ; attests that in no conceivable case can we imagine it to be otherwise ; that to limit the fact is to destroy it. Equally conscious are we that, in sensation, this cause is not self, that it is without me ; and thus the principle of causality conducts us irresistibly to an external cause. Here, then, is an existence beyond me a being ; for my notion of the nature of cause is derived from the perceived connection between my own voluntary effort and the effect which followed. I cannot now think of the aggregate of phenomena composing the universe, without admitting the existence of a Being by whom all the power is exercised which these phenomena display. And what one conscious voluntary effort is to the Great First Cause, that a single act of memory Sir William Hamilton in Edin. Rev. Vol. III. p. 198, Oct. 1830. PROGRESSION. t>9 apprehending succession is to unlimited duration, and a single intelligent perception of objects and properties to the Infinite substance of which they are the manifestation. In other words, the universal is presupposed by the particular, and, in that sense, is given in it ; the necessary is given in the contingent ; the reason in sensation ; the objective in the subjective. And they are given directly, intuitively, and spontaneously; thus proclaiming, as clearly as by their characteristics of universality and necessity, that they are not inferences of experience, but are actually implied in the constitution of the mind. And is not the affirmation of the infinite, of which I am conscious by the intuition of reason, as valid as the affirmation of the finite, of which I am conscious in sensational perception ? If the latter is legitimate, so also is the former ; and for the same reason, that it is attested by the authority of consciousness. " If a state of mind," says Morell, "termed sensation, can give us the know- ledge of properties, why may not a state of mind termed in- tuition or reason give us the knowledge of substance ? Eeason has as much right to take us out of ourselves as perception, and if the one cannot assert objective validity, neither can the other."* In each instance, the beliefs of which we are conscious are ultimate facts; and as such incapable of analysis, and independent of argumentative corroboration. Our primary experience is a belief; and "our intellectual life is a continued series of beliefs of acts of faith in the invisible revealed by the visible acts, which extend from the bosom of consciousness to the Infinite, and which reach even to the Being of beings." 25. Let us mark and admire the provision which is thus made in the very structure of the mind, for the introduction of new truth on miraculous evidence. All knowledge rests ulti- mately on beliefs the belief of necessary and universal truths. Each of these truths comes to us in a particular concrete form. Let body be given, and the notion of space is inevitable. Let change be given, and the idea of a cause adequate to the change is inevitably involved. Let a preternatural or superhuman change or event be given, and the reason inevitably assumes a preternatural relation, irresistibly believes a superhuman cause. In so doing, the mind is merely acting naturally; "the reason," says Locke, "is only assenting to itself." 26. Having thus illustrated and confirmed the truth of the general proposition placed at the head of this section, I may be * Modem Philosophy, Vol. I. 328. 70 MAN. permitted to glance at the antecedent ground for expecting such a constitution of the mind as it hypofhetically describes. We had seen that the mind is sensibly related to every external object; and that all objective things in nature, besides being related to each other, have corresponding relations in the human mind. But, in addition, there must be a sense in which both perceived and percipient must be related to whatever accounts for, or is presupposed in, the fact of their existence. And the apprehension of this relation, as it is the highest and the noblest, must be more desirable and important than that of any of the inferior relations to which reference has been made ; that is, must tend to bring us mentally nearer to the Divine Being, and to exalt our views respecting Him. But whence can this belief or apprehension come ? Will it be the result of experience, the self-completion and complement of sensation and experience merely? Rather, may it not be expected to be original, connatural with the infinite, and only awakened into activity by experience ? For if the mind derives its sensations from external objects ; and its knowledge of the relations of these objects through reflection ; so, if there be* a higher order of relations, it seems antecedently probable that an acquaintance with these will be traceable more directly to the constitution of the mind itself. If the perceived objective discloses our distinction from, yet relation to, things without ; and if, under the eye of reflection, the subjective affirms the relation of external things among themselves, surely the per- cipient and reflective power itself, and in itself, will not be barren of information. If the mind, regarded simply as the subject of sensation, and as capable of dealing with its sensa- tions, discloses much, considered as itself an objective addition to creation, it may surely be expected to disclose more. The highest being, objectively considered, may be expected con- stitutionally to imply or reveal the highest relations. If the external universe be a wondrous volume, though unconscious of one of all the unnumbered ideas of which it is the expression, surely the mind which views every object as a letter, every fact resulting from a combination of these objects as a word, and every natural collocation of such words as a sentence significant of some lofty truth, must itself be more wonderful and instruc- tive still. And if those acts of the mind by which it recognizes the letters, and the words, and the relation of the words to each other, be wonderful, more wonderful must that power of the mind be which interprets the sentence, and which derives from PROGRESSION. 71 itself, through its union with the objective, the ideas which the Maker of both intended to convey. 27. How Divine the arrangement by which the counterpart of every idea involved or implied in the external world shall exist potentially in the human mind. Without these, the assumed end of the objective would fail ; for if that end be to reveal the infinite and eternal in God, the attainment of that end depends on the powers or susceptibilities which the finite subjective shall bring to it. If the ancient Aristotelean maxim "pregnant with systems" be admitted, that "there is no- thing in the intellect which was not previously in the sense," how important the addition made by Leibnitz, " except the intellect itself;" for in that mental constitution must be poten- tially involved not only all that the sense is capable of evolving, but the power of affirming the ultimate relations of both to God ; otherwise they will not glorify Him. And if it be true that the mind be a blank apart from the external creation, yet how elaborately must that apparent blank be prepared, when, by simply bringing it into the light and warmth of the objective, it glows with colors not of earth, and shows that from the first it had been written over with a secret writing by the hand of God. So that if a being of another race, capable of inter- preting creation, were to make creation, mental and material, his study, after ah 1 that he had learned from material objects, and from the effects of these objects on the human mind in sensation, he would expect to learn more from the study of the mind itself of the mind primitive and potential than from all creation besides. 28. Antecedents, logical and chronological. Among the truths to be evolved, and the consequences deducible, from the pre- ceding remarks, some are so important as to merit distinct attention. We have seen that, as a means of knowledge, the mind is the logical antecedent to external nature reason to experience. Nor has our theory failed to disclose the ground of this fact. It is evident that the very design of an external universe, as contemplated from eternity by the Infinite Mind, presupposed certain facts as already existing, such as the space in which creation should appear, and the Substance or Nature of which it should be a manifestation. These and certain other truths were the logical antecedents of a creation in the Divine Mind. He had not to create them ; could not but assume them ; the contrary is inconceivable. But if the Infinite Mind necessarily presupposed them in designing crea- 72 MAN. tion, so also must the finite mind in interpreting creation. If by an act of imagination, we conceive of creation as having yet to be begun, we shall find that our every conjecture respecting the great process would unavoidably involve and assume them. Nor can the assumption of these truths be less felt to be neces- sary, now that the manifestation is in progress, than it was prior to its origin. As necessary, they cannot admit of argumentative proof; because nothing is more certain, and because every argument rests upon them. As primary, they must be assumed, for there was nothing before them, and they are the conditions of the existence of everything that has come after. They could not but be assumed by the exalted Creator in His purpose of Divine manifestation ; and man, made in the intellectual image of God, will be found, in all his constructions of external nature, to be necessarily assuming them also. But we have seen likewise that, as a means of knowledge, external nature is the chronological antecedent to the mind experience to reason. And for this our theory equally accounts. If the Infinite Mind is to be made manifest to the finite mind, that which is to manifest Him must precede the development of the idea in the mind the means must precede the end. A single fact may be sufficient for the purpose ; but some fact, some external object, the mind must have, both to reveal it to itself, and to awaken in it the idea of an external cause. Hence, the creation of the material universe historically preceded the creation, and awaited the arrival of the mind which was to interpret it; which would need such an object in order to acquire an idea of the Intelligent Cause presupposed; and which, having such an object, would awaken to the idea of the Creator in and by the very act of interpretation. 29. The arguments d priori and d posteriori. The preced- ing paragraph implies the folly of setting up an exclusive claim for either of these two forms of argument. They involve and support each other. The argument d priori supposes an d pos- teriori postulate a fact of experience as its chronological antecedent ; for to suppose " that we can know anything pre- viously to experience would be a contradiction in terms." The fact or postulate, in question, indeed, may come immediately from within, may be a phenomenon of consciousness ; but that internal phenomenon supposes an external occasion. Accord- ingly, an examination of Clarke's celebrated Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, will show, that although the idea of God is given by reason, and not by experience, it is not PROGRESSION. 73 given without, at least, a fact of experience, as its antecedent occasion or condition.* In a similar manner, the argument d posteriori supposes an element strictly d priori, as its logical antecedent. For the reasoning from effect to cause clearly pre- supposes the idea of causality ; without which all the phenom- ena of nature, though gazed at forever, would only be regarded by us as phenomena an unmeaning aggregate of effects, and nothing more. The reasoning from the inconceivably compli- cated contrivances disclosed by nature to the skill of the Creator, presupposes the idea of design, without which all the illustra- tions of order, harmony and skill, as proofs of a final cause, would exist in vain. But these ideas of causality and purpose are primary presupposed in the things created ; and, as such, necessarily presumed by the mind that interprets creation by arguing from nature to its Maker. These two modes of proof then, " are so little exclusive of each other, that each contains something of the other." And all evidence, whatever its form or kind may be, whether that of testimony ; example or fact ; experience ; resemblance and analogy ; or of axioms and defini- tions, or demonstrative reasoning, is reducible to the d priori and the d posteriori proof, or forms different kinds of it. 30.- Necessary and contingent truth. For the reasons just stated, necessary truth relates to whatever facts are presupposed by creation ; facts, therefore, which existed before creation, and which still exist independently of it ; and facts which the In- finite Creator himself presupposed, for they are involved in the all-comprehending fact of His own Nature. Contingent truth relates to whatever facts exist on account of the former, and which could not exist without it. In contradistinction from the truth which is necessary, universal, and primary, this is con- ditional, limited, and chronologically subsequent ; it is condi- tional as to being at all, as to being what it is, and when it is on the will of Him who is the sole reason why it is. There is, however, a third aspect of truth which it is important to notice, namely, the conditionally necessary ; combining the characteristics of the two preceding classes. For example, in the proposition that every body supposes space, we have the * Accordingly, the eighth proposition of the argument which affirms that the First Cause must be " intelligent," in which, as he truly states, " lies the main question between us and the atheists " is admirably sus- tained by an & posteriori argument ; he himself admitting that the prop- osition cannot be demonstrated h priori. 74 MAN. necessary idea of space, as that which could not but be ; the conditional idea of body, as that which might not have been ; and the conditionally necessary idea of the relation of the body to space a relation necessary on the condition of the body existing. 31. Synthesis and analysis. Then every necessary truth is synthetic, for it contains potentially all the contingent which rests on it, by which it can be made manifest, and of which the external universe is the development. Hence every abstract and necessary truth comes to us in a concrete state, or is given in a particular fact. On the other hand, contingent truth is analytic ; for, resting as it does on truths beyond itself, and ad- mitting as it does of combination with other contingent truths, it allows of analysis and generalization analysis, in order to a generalization which shall reach as far as to the ultimate truths on which it rests. So that, while synthesis prevails in the objects of nature, the study of these objects must be conduct- ed analytically. 32. Co-existence and successive existence. Every necessary truth, we have seen, is synthetic ; and every object in nature, as a symbolic expression of necessary truth, is synthetic also. Now in the Eternal Mind, as the seat of all necessary truth, the en- tire objective universe may be regarded as contemplated syn- thetically as a whole, and therefore as co-existent in space. In all which He has been pleased to create, He has only descend- ed from the general to the particular, from the great synthetic Whole to its parts ; which Whole is ever present to His all- comprehending purpose. But nature, synthetic, and co-existent as it is in the Divine Purpose, is, for an adequate reason, un- folded progressively. That which as an expression of necessary truth is potentially co-existent is, as a means of human know- ledge, successively existent. In the former respect, it may be regarded in its relation to space ; in the latter, to time ; in that, as consisting of objects ; in this, of events. 33. Deduction. External nature is to be regarded in the light of a sublime argument, in which the Creator is reasoning syllogistically, or deductively, from the necessary to the contin- gent, from principles to facts, from generals to particulars. With the great synthetic whole ever present to His mind. He is seen unfolding the parts of which it consists. He, the First Cause, is beheld descending through a prolonged and complicated se- ries of dependent causes and their effects. Now, in order that man may feel the force of this syllogistic PROGRESSION. 75 reasoning, he must be prepared to admit the truth of the pri- mary proposition. Equally with the Divine Mind, the human mind must presuppose the primary principle on which all its subsequent reasoning depends. " If you will be at the pains, (says Dr. Whately*) carefully to analyze the simplest descrip- tion you hear of any transaction or state of things, you will find that the process which almost invariably takes place is, in logical language, this : that each individual has in his mind cer- tain major premises or principles relative to the subject in ques- tion ; that observation of what actually presents itself to the senses, supplies minor premises ; and that the statement given (and which is reported as a thing experienced) consists, in fact, of the conclusions drawn from the combinations of these pre- mises." In the great argument of which we are treating, the major premises consists of primary truths, and of the proposi- tions which they evidently involve, and to which they necessa- rily lead. And these, I repeat, as they necessarily exist in the mind of the Infinite Reason, must exist also in the minds of the beings with whom He is reasoning. For example ; the creation, we have seen, is a sublime argu- ment on the Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness of God. Let us imagine that the first, on Power or Causation, is about to be commenced. The theatre is boundless space. The instruments of proof are symbols. The first effect is, by supposition, yet to be produced ; and the design of its production is to convince a coming race of intelligent beings that as there is no effect without a cause, the impending production will imply a Great First Cause. Accordingly, He calls for a universe of matter, distributes it into systems, and puts them into motion. But here the major proposition, that every phenomenon supposes a cause, is assumed by the Great Reasoner himself; it could not be otherwise. Unless the intelligent creature, then, assume the major premiss also, what will the production of a universe of effects avail ? he will want the link essential to connect the creation with the Creator. But suppose the human mind to assume this principle in common with the Divine Mind, and the syllogism may be made complete the argument irrefrag- able. For, if every phenomenon supposes a cause, and if the world be a phenomenon, the existence of the world demon- strates the existence of an adequate and independent cause. And thus we see the nature and necessity of the deductive * Polit. Econ., p. 76. 76 MAN. process from the universal to the particular, included un- der it. 34. Induction. But besides the necessaiy truth which crea- tion presupposes, and which truth is assumed alike by the Infi- nite Mind and the finite mind, the great argument implies (as in every instance of ordinary reasoning,) that there are certain ideas in the Mind of the former, which are not as yet in the mind of the latter, and which it is the design of the argument to convey. An analysis of the following syllogism will illustrate our meaning, and show the distinctive nature and necessity of the Inductive process. Whatever exhibits marks of design must have had an intelligent author; the world exhibits marks of design; therefore, the world must have had an intelligent author. Here, the major is a primary fact, assumed alike by God and man ; while the Conclusion, that the world must have had an intelligent author, together with all the various and important truths which it involves constitutes that which God and man have not at first in common ; that which is sup- posed to be primarily in the mind of God alone ; and which it is the chief design of the Great Argument to convey into the mind of man also. But it must be obvious that the truth of the Conclusion, and the attainment of the knowledge contained in it, depend on the truth and validity of the minor namely, that the world does exhibit marks of design. How is this proposi- tion arrived at ? How, but by Induction ? It is a generalized conclusion drawn from the observation and comparison of a number of particular facts. And, then, with this conclusion so arrived at, we are further warranted to infer, by virtue of the major already assumed, that the world must have had an intel- ligent author. 35. This representation of the distinctive difference between the deductive and the inductive processes, is only coincident with the other distinctions of truth which we have indicated. As a fact is Necessary, it is, and must be seen by intuition, or it could not be seen at all. Demonstration is only a series of intuitions, or the development of a primary intuition ; so that demonstration is based on intuition, and always presupposes it,* But as far as facts are contingent, they admit of an indefinite variety of modification and combination, so that any one principle which they involve can be drawn out and substan- tiated only from an induction of many facts. As the Necessary * See Locke's Essays, B. IV. c. ii. 7. PROGRESSION. 77 is synthetic, it requires to be analyzed into particulars ; as the Contingent is particular, its parts require to be collected or syn- thetically generalized. As the Necessary is the logical antecedent to the contingent, it places the human mind, in effect, in the po- sition of regarding creation as yet to come looking down from principles to the exemplification of those principles in appropri- ate objects and events. As the Contingent is the chronological antecedent of the necessary i. e., that in which the necessary is given to the human mind, it places the mind in the reverse position, that of looking up from facts to principles. 36. So that, in this respect, the process of Nature, taken as a whole, and the inductive process of man are inverse. Nature reasons deductively, from principles to facts. Man meets her by reasoning inductively, from facts to principles. Hence the aphorism of lord Bacon, " What is first to nature is not first to man." Nature begins with causes which produce effects ; the senses open upon the effects, and from them ascend to the causes. In this respect, too as applied to the great historic fact of creation the position of the Peripatetic, though often questioned, may be maintained, that "syllogism is naturally prior in order to induction." For, as Nature i. e. the God of Nature descends from the universal to the particular ; and as it is not until this is done, that man can ascend from the particular to the general, and from the general to the universal, it follows that nature and man proceed inversely that induction is first to man, syllogism first to nature : or, where less than induction from many facts is necessary where, as in pure mathematical reasoning, a single fact is sufficient, still that single fact is the chronological antecedent to man, while the primary principle which it presupposes is first to nature. 37. The different kinds of evidence have been named already. The remarks immediately preceding may have suggested the important fact that evidence admits of degrees. This graduation may be described as ranging from evidence of the barely pos- sible, through the doubtful, the probable, the morally certain, the physically certain, to the metaphysically certain. As the last alone possesses the characteristics of universality and necessity, and, as such, is fixed, the others belong to the domain of the inductive understanding, and rise in value in proportion as they approach an idea or belief of the reason, and derive authority from it. 38. Among the consequences inferable, especially from our remarks under the head of deduction and induction, one is, 7* 78 MAN. that man in retracing the steps of material nature, will come nearer, at every ascending stage of his inquiries, to the region of mathematical truth. A fact which illustrates Bacon's pro- position,* that " all natural inquiries succeed best, when a phy- sical principle is made to terminate in a mathematical opera- tion." For, in proportion as man returns to the inorganic forms, and forces, and elementary principles, which character- ized the first stage of the Divine Manifestation, he is approach- ing the region of purely intellectual truth. 39. It follows, also, that in proportion as man reascends, he will find nature becoming more and more simple, and the prin- ciples of nature fewer and more general. Accordingly, " as philosophy advances, the properties of matter are found to be fewer and simpler ; which the Creative Wisdom so combines and directs as to produce the most diversified, and, at first sight, opposite results." And this fact admirably harmonizes with the progressive character of Creation ; in which we have seen Wisdom combining the productions of power, and Goodness taking the results of both, and further complicating them for her own advanced purposes. In the light of this truth, we can interpret and qualify that remark of Laplace, in which a fatal heresy has been supposed, and perhaps justly supposed, to lurk that, as science advances from point to point, final causes recede before it, and disappear one after the other. If we re- gard Creation as the progressive development of a Divine Manifestation, the fact is explained ; man is receding from final causes ; for, in returning towards the first stage of that process, we are necessarily leaving a final cause behind us at every step. The progress of science is retrogressive to nature. If we read Euclid backwards, and leave a problem behind us at every page, we shall at length reach the postulates and axioms of the first page, on which all the book depends. But who would, on this account, withhold his admiration from the intel- lect and design displayed in the subsequent development of those axioms ? And who that glances at the subtle, complica- ted, endless application, of even mathematical laws to the great system of external nature, but must feel his amazement aug- mented in exact proportion as he contrasts the generality of these laws with the inexhaustible particularity of their appli ca- tion, and the variety of their results. 40. It may be expected, also, that in proportion as man * Nov. Org. lib. ill PROGRESSION. 79 ascends nearer to the region of necessary truth, he will find himself drawing nearer to the Great Reason and Principle of the Whole. " Every true step in this philosophy," says New- ton,* " brings us not immediately to the knowledge of the First Cause, yet it brings us nearer to it, and is on that account to be highly valued." And because the course of human inquiry thus leads from the particular to the universal, the science of universals obtained the name of metaphysics. 41. It may be further expected that the higher we ascend towards the Great Source, and the more general the law on which we obtain a footing, the greater will become our power of deductive reasoning and prophetic anticipation. " In particu- lars our knowledge begins, and so spreads itself by degrees to generals ; though afterwards the mind takes the quite contrary course, and having drawn its knowledge into as general propo- sitions as it can, makes those familiar to its thoughts, and accus- toms itself to have recourse to them, as to the standards of truth and falsehood." f And all reasoning in natural philosophy, says Bacon,! " is ascendant and descendant, from experiments to axioms, and from axioms to new discoveries." Accordingly, science is now regarded as having reached that height from which the Deductive method is henceforth to predominate. Without becoming less inductive, only less experimental, the tendency of all sciences is to acquire an ever-enlarging deductive power. " A revolution is peaceably and progressively effecting itself in philosophy, the reverse of that to which Bacon has attached his name ; " (and, it might be added, in consequence of that,) " that great man changed the method of the sciences from deductive to experimental, and it is now rapidly reverting from experimental to deductive." 42. In these sections on man considered as an intellectual being, or as constituted to know creation as a manifestation of the Deity, we have regarded him as endowed with the three- fold power of sensational perception, of reflective understanding, and of rational ideas or primary beliefs. By the first, we have found him made cognizant of the separate objects and events of external nature ; by the second, capable of tracing the relations of these objects and events to each other and to himself; and by the third, of referring both himself and nature to that all- * Optics, Query 28, p. 34. t Locke's Essays, B. iv. c. 7, 2. t Nov. Org. lib. i. aph. 104, and De Augm. Sclent., lib. iii. cap. 3. Mill's System of Logic, vol. i. p. 579. 80 MAX. comprehending Personal Reason in whom Truth and Being are one and infinitely perfect the Eternal God. The first dis- closes to him an external and material universe ; but in doing so, reveals and presupposes the second, or that reflective power which, as directly subservient to the will, distinguishes the finite mind ; while both presuppose and point to their Infinite Author, God : thus indicating the three great elements of human know- ledge nature, man, and God. The first we have spoken of as conversant with facts which are merely conditional or contin- gent; the second, or the conceptive understanding, receives these, and brings them under laws which are conditionally ne- cessary, its occupation consisting in discovering and generaliz- ing the relations of the conditional to the necessary ; and the third, as the utterer of necessary truths, guiding the operations of the understanding, and authenticating its legitimate conclu- sions. Reason, therefore, is to be regarded strictly as giving us Philosophy, being simply conversant with principles ; the un- derstanding gives us Science, but only as it succeeds in reducing phenomena under the principles of reason ; the phenomena or materials of the science being supplied primarily by the senses. As to their respective methods, reason gives us the Deductive, by which we proceed from the universal to the particular ; the understanding is inductive, proceeding from the particular to the general ; while sense gives the experimental particular itself, proceeding only by single and separate steps. When viewed in relation to Evidence, then, reason alone is conversant with the metaphysically certain ; while the understanding "supplies the physically and conditionally certain, and all that lies between it and the single notices of sensational perception. Regarded in this light, sensational perception may be described as related to that which is, or ttye material existent ; the conceptive under- standing, presupposing that which is, starts in its inquiries from that Avhich may be, or the probable, and ever aims at the goal of certainty ; while the peculiar province of the reason is that which must be, or the necessary. 43. And as we have advanced in our investigation of man's intellectual constitution, we have found it answering to and ful- filling the various conditions necessary to his knowledge of cre- ation as a manifestation of Deity. From the whole of which, it may be concluded that, to God the entire process of Divine disclosure is, in effect, a sublime syllogism ; of which, the least object, and the remotest event, are already included in the ma- jor premiss ; and the unfolding of which is destined to occupy PROGRESSION. 81 the coming eternity. While man, appointed to find the sphere of his activity in the vast intermediate space between the Neces- sary and the pifrely Conditional, and unable to find intellectual rest but in the felt junction of the two, will derive perpetual accessions of enjoyment as he ascends from the particular to the Infinite, with whom it originated, and in whom it is contained ; and will be furnished, as the great process of the manifestation advances from stage to stage, with ever fresh occasion for the adoring exclamation, " Of Him, and to Him, and through Him, are all things ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen." SECT. IV. Imagination. 1. If the actual creation, as known to man through perception, understanding, and reason, have not exhausted the Divine re- sources, and if it would both exalt his nature and enhance his conceptions of those resources, to be able to imagine phenomena harmonizing with, but superior to, all belonging to the present and the actual, he may be expected to be endowed with a power distinct from any we have yet described, in order to enable him to realize such impossibilities. 2. Now that the universe, as apprehended at any one tune, is not the measure, but only a specimen, of the creative resources of the Deity, is evident, both from his infinity, which cannot be exhausted, and from the fact that the actual creation itself is perpetually assuming new forms, and repeating its demands on those resources. Besides which, if parts, at least, of this crea- tion are destined for other worlds, and for unending duration, that which is known of the Divine Resources at any one point of duration can bear no proportion to that which remains to be known, and which only awaits the enlargement of our capacity in order to be revealed. It is, therefore, unnecessary for us now to inquire whether, when the actual universe was called into being, there were not also present to the Divine mind the archetypes or ideas of other worlds possible creations, and possible varieties of actual existence. It is enough for us to know that there was present to the Creator, because dependent on His purpose, all the philosophy, science, and art, which the actual universe embodies and illustrates. To Him were pres- ent for He actually designed them all the artistic applica- tions, the aesthetic combinations, and the kindling suggestive power of which the natural would be found capable, when sub- 82 MAN. mitted to the action of the human mind, as He proposed to endow it, as well as all the ideal phenomena of that mind itself. 3. What, then, is the nature of that mysterious endowment by which man is thus admitted to hold intellectual fellowship with his- Maker respecting the possible ? It is allied indirectly to the sensational part of our nature ; deriving its name from the organ of sight through which its principal, though by no means its only, materials, are supplied; and, if it expresses itself in art, taking pre-existing materials as the means by which to attain its ends. In various respects it is identical with the understanding. As an artist, it can work only ac- cording to the constitution of the material with, and on which, it works. That material itself is the production of the Great Artist, and has laws and properties of its own ; and it is only as the imagination complies with them that they become its servant ; and, like the understanding, it abstracts only that it may generalize, and generalizes only that it may abstract again. In conformity with the reason, also, imagination has its primor- dial truth ; its idea is perfection the loftiest attributes appro- priate to the nature of the object which it contemplates. 4. But from each of these characteristics of the mind, imagi- nation is easily distinguished. It looks on material forms only to transform them to imprint on them images, and to apply them to purposes, unknown before. To the eye of imagination, nature is a great system of symbols, each containing and con- cealing a hidden truth yearning for sympathetic interpretation. Inorganic nature lives and breathes, and becomes oracular, in fable, emblem, or hieroglyph. Free of all time and space, imagination brings together beings the most widely separated, and has unities of its own. But its highest prerogative is, in a secondary sense, to create. The real creations by which it finds itself surrounded in nature, appeal, as divine provocatives, to its own ideas of order, beauty, and sublimity. Under its plastic hand, the shapeless marble takes a godlike form, and comes forth a Venus di Medici, or an Apollo Belvedere. To its pencil, ordinary colors become " colors dipt in heaven," and a corresponding Transfiguration forthwith glows, and inspires devotion. Out of the common air, it modulates strains to " raise a mortal to the skies," or to " draw an angel down." If it beautifies the earth, it aims at new Edens, and gardens of the Hesperides, Castalian springs, and golden fruits, and amaranth- ine flowers. If it governs, its domains lie far away the City PROGRESSION. 83 ot die Sun, or Utopia, or Oceana, or the New Atlantis and are exempt from all the defects of the world's known statesman- ship. To its lofty sense, the created universe is one Poem God's grand Epic and as the solemn recital proceeds, imagi- nation essays, with trembling hand, to write down, if but an episode, a line, that aU time may read. Not that it is ever satis- fied with its own productions. The finest materials with which it works are too coarse and intractable. Even after its most suc- cessful efforts, its cherished vision remains unrevealed ; it car- ries about with it an unrealized idea. 5. We have said that the imagination, like the understanding, abstracts and generalizes. But, unlike that faculty, it modifies our conceptions, recombines them on principles of its own, or, abstracting a single element, dispenses with the rest as irrele- vant to its creative purpose. It aims not, like the understand- ing, at the conviction which results from evidence, but at the emotion which flows from sympathy. And, beyond this, it is, in the highest sense, synthetic. Its productions are brought forth before the theory which accounts for and explains them. Homer, and the great classic dramatists, precede Aristotle. The highest criticism is but an exposition of laws already syn- thesized in the great works of genius. Like the sciences them- selves, the productions of genius are found to be based on fun- damental principles. But the imagination does not wait for the theory of these principles. It silently and unconsciously em- bodies them. And when, subsequently, its productions are ana- lyzed, the logic of genius and of nature are found to be the same. Sublimity and truth are one. 6. This latent amenableness of the imagination to the majesty of law, distinguishes it from the mere play of fancy with which it is often confounded. The former is the great tidal wave obeying a planetary impulse, while the latter is only the ripple and wave of the surface occasioned by the action of the air. And the ground of this difference appears to be, that it is the province of imagination to realize the ideal, while fancy only adorns and idealizes the real : the former symbol- izes the essences of things, while the latter only beautifies the actual. 7. We have seen that, like the reason, and rooted in it, im- agination is synthetic. But while the reason finds its necessary truths affirmed and expounded by the objects and events of the existing universe, it is the high prerogative of the imagination to illustrate the same truths by additional ideal creations. If 84 MAN. the reason points in the direction of that which must be, the imagination points in addition, and for the same end, to that which might be. In feeble, but yet loyal imitation of Him whose universe is but a varied utterance of the beautiful and the sublime, symbolical of the true, the imagination comes after and essays to take possession of every unoccupied spot with new and congenial varieties of its own. And thus it may be regarded as the mediating power between the necessary and the already existent, adding its own little copy of a creation-week to the six days work of the Divine Creator, and showing, that if He chose to pause at a given point of the great process, it was not because the archetypes of things were all embodied and exhausted, but, as one reason, because He willed not to commit to unconscious matter the representation of all imaginable ideas, but to reserve for a creature made, in this respect, in His own image, the conscious representation of certain archetypes left unembodied, and thus to be ever carrying onwards the process of the Divine manifestation. 8. But the province of the imagination is far from being restricted to the possible in nature and in the intellectual world. Its influence variously affects the emotions, the will, and the conscience. "What Bacon hath finely said of poetry* as a daughter of imagination, may be justly affirmed of the imagina- tion itself. " There is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety, than can be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts or events of true history have not that magni- tude which satisfieth the mind of man, Poesy feigneth acts and events greater and more heroical ; because true history pro- poundeth successes and issues of action not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore Poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and more according to revealed Providence. And therefore it was even thought to have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise and erect the mind, by sub- mitting the shows of things to the desires of the mind." In the light of these views, we see the truth of the affirmation, that "poetry is more philosophical than history." f Clearing the bounds of the particular and the actual, imagination beholds things already in their unity and completeness. It is a power- ful auxiliary to every motive drawn from the remote and the invisible, antedating the final day, and placing even now the * De Augm. Sclent., lib. ii. cap. 13. t Aristot. de Poet. cap. 9. PROGRESSION. 85 whip of scorpions in the hands of remorse, and the aureola around the head of suffering virtue. However strong the Christian's conviction, on independent grounds, of a heavenly state, yet it is on the wings of imagination that he ascends and foretastes its blessedness. However bright and expanded the prospect of human improvement in the present state may be, it is as nothing compared with the interminable career of glory which stretches before the eye of imagination in worlds beyond. Rich, then, as we should have regarded the newly-created man, could we have looked on him when first he stood forth as heir of the world, how incomparably more opulent was he as the heir of things which he could then, at best, only imagine : the one, measurable, passing ; the other, it hath not yet entered even into his mind fully to conceive. By the former, God manifested himself to man indirectly, and from without ; by the latter, God directly mirrored himself, however partially and faintly, in the mind itself, and man beholds his Maker in the image. SECT. V. Man Emotional. 1. IN the view which we have taken of man's mental consti- tution, we have found him endowed with the means of intellect- ually interpreting the Divine manifestation ; but how are these means to be put and kept in activity so as to secure then* end ? Polished and capacious as the mirror of his mind may be, and capable of reflecting every object and hue that passes before it, is it, like a mirror, to be stationary and passive while the uni- verse revolves around it, and to reflect every object alike with cold and mirror-like indifference ? For, if he is actively to em- ploy his knowing faculties as means of knowledge, and if, as ex- ternal and internal phenomena differ in their character and im- portance, he is to estimate them accordingly, he must be en- dowed with a corresponding variety of susceptibilities. In other words 2. If the various and complicated phenomena of matter and mind with the existence of which man has the means of becom- ing acquainted, be to be studied and appreciated, as means of Divine manifestation, he must possess the susceptibility of being moved and affected by them, in a manner answering both to their positive character and importance, and to the relation in which he stands to them. 3. This is the susceptibility of emotion ; a term originally de- 8 86 MAN. noting, perhaps, a movement fr6m within, or the power of the mind to affect the body externally. Not that this is the neces- sary effect of emotion, for the mental affection may be too placid to produce any external sign, or be so powerful and deep as to leave the material surface, like the centre circle of a whirlpool, unruffled. As an original and unclerived part of our nature, it admits not of description to him who is not already conscious of it. All that we can do is to point out what it is not, or wherein it differs from those parts of our nature with which we are most liable to confound it, and to indicate the circumstances in which it arises, and thus to clear and authenticate our conception of what it truly is. 4. In contradistinction from the appetites, such as hunger and thirst, which are bodily, and which have their immediate origin in the body, an emotion is an affection of the mind. The for- mer relate directly and entirely to external and material objects ; the latter relates immediately to internal states, for even when traceable to external objects, its relation to them is only indirect, or through the medium of perception. Sensation depends on organs of sense, and is directly related to external objects, for it is occasioned by their presence ; emo- tion depends not directly on such organs, but on the sensations themselves, and on the intellectual states which follow. An intellectual act or state has none of the vivid feeling which belongs to an emotion ; and differs from it as remembering an object differs from the love or hatred of an object remembered. The former is the antecedent of the latter ; and we can con- ceive of a being so constituted as that the intellectual act might have existed without the emotion. We may further remark that Affection for an object denotes the tendency of the mind to have emotions of a certain class awakened by it, the actual repetition of such emotions, and also the state or habit of the mind resulting from such repetition. Sensibility implies a highly emotional tendency, or a great sus- ceptibility to emotional appeals. By Taste is meant disciplined sensibility, or sensibility rendered discriminating by emotional experience, and therefore as prompt in its decisions as the emo- tions themselves. Properly speaking, perhaps, the objects of taste are inanimate, while affection embraces sentient being. Passion expresses the violence of an emotion, or an affection ; and hence it is not unfrequently employed as a synonyme for anger, that brevis furor, and most raging of the passions. Tem- perament denotes, not emotion itself, but a characteristic mental PROGRESSION. 87 susceptibility, predisposing the mind to certain classes of emo- tion. Thus, a mind constitutionally grave or gay, melancholy or cheerful, is peculiarly susceptible to corresponding emotions of gloom or joy. 5. As man exists for an end, and his constitution is the ap- pointment of means to that end, it may be expected, first, that he will be the subject of different kinds of emotion in harmony with the attainment of that end. Now this requirement appeal's to involve the following facts, each of which may be regarded as a classifying law of the emotions. (1.) The appropriative. That everything conducive to the end of his being, and capable of being obtained by him, should be regarded by him as an object of desire. Thus, as the very end for which life is bestowed on him at all supposes the con- tinuance of life, at least, for a time, he is the subject of an in- stinctive desire for its continued existence. And innumerable external objects are ever appealing to the desire and keeping it in play. 6. The continuance of life, as well as its design, imply that he is meant for activity. He desires it desires it even for its own sake as well as for its practical results ; for it is attended with feelings of pleasure which may easily be kindled to cheer- fulness and delight. And external nature, even in Eden, was calculated to call forth his activity ; for he had " to dress it and to keep it." 9 7. Do the constitution of man, as far as we have studied it, and the design of that constitution, suppose a thirst for know- ledge ? This desire is evinced by the infant even before he pos- sesses the power of uttering it ; nor is there any emotion whose influence is later felt. It observes an order of development ac- cording to the order of our wants. Beginning in childish curi- osity, it passes through all the intermediate stages of inquiry, to a profound and far-sighted philosophy ; and when stopped by any objects short of ultimate facts, it feels as if it had a right to know them, and evinces increasing restlessness and resentment at the obstacles, till it is gratified. So ardent and instinctive is our desire for knowledge, that the pursuit is commenced for its own sake alone, and respecting objects which may never come into our possession. The only reason we can assign for insti- tuting most of our inquiries, is because the subjects to which they relate are new and unknown to us. And, as we advance, the desire which impels us onwards, the pleasure which attends the perception of progress, and the delight resulting from sue- 88 MAN. cess, and from the direct contemplation of the truth sought, - all show that the mind was made for knowledge. Besides which, it will be found that the mind is ever systematizing the knowledge acquired, and reducing it to unity, so as to make it more securely its own. 8. The creation of a second human mind, endowed with the power of expressing itself through the medium of speech, greatly increased the means of knowledge. By this arrangement, the horizon of external nature was indefinitely extended and en- riched, for, in addition to the wide range of the material crea- tion, the individual mind is now supposed to enjoy access to the wider region and the richer phenomena of another mind. The desire of man for knowledge, then, if no other reason, prepares us to expect that he will be found desirous of communion with other minds. Accordingly, society is desired, as soon as ever the mind can form a conception of it ; desired, as if it were es- sential to the diversity, enlargement, and completion of one's own being. The Creator himself pronounced solitude to be un- desirable, gave a companion to man, and promised the indefinite multiplication of the species. 9. But will not a certain amount of power furnish the means of gratifying all the other desires, and of thus answering the end of existence ? Accordingly, man is made capable of enjoying power for its own sake, and of desiring all that contributes to it. Dominion over animate and inanimate nature is his birth- right, and he finds and imparts a measure of happiness and improvement in the exercise of it. The desire of property, associated with the feeling of right in it, and over it, is an inherent and essential part of our nature. Equally inherent and indestructible is the desire of superiority, for, as we shall hereafter see, whether he who attains the object of his desire intentionally exercises it as an instrument of power or not, it invests him with a transforming influence, over all those by whom it is recognized. 10. Still further would the end of his being appear to be answered, if he act in a manner worthy of the esteem and appro- bation of others. Creation is made to be appreciated ; the human mind forms the most important part of creation ; but he can understand and appreciate the mind of another, only in proportion as he communes and sympathizes with it. To dis- regard it, or to be insensible to it, would be, in effect, to lose a world of knowledge, influence, and enjoyment : to appreciate it, and to act consistently with that appreciation, is to make that PROGRESSION. 89 world, to a great extent, his own. Hence, man is found sus- ceptible of the desire of approbation, even before he is capable of understanding, and when he is not considering, its practical effects. Many of the deeds by which he diffuses happiness around him, are traceable to this source. The hour which saw the "woman take of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and give also to her husband with her and he did eat," beheld an illustration of this desire, and perhaps, indeed, of all the desires we have specified; reminding us, that the desires in themselves are destitute of a moral character ; for, in order to their morality they must be placed in alliance with a principle which we have not as yet considered; so that much which passes for morality is merely the result of instinc- tive emotion. 11. (2.) Impartative. That besides being susceptible of desires relative to everything apparently conducive to his own well-being, he will be found capable of being moved by, or affected towards other objects in a manner conducive to their well-being. This is implied in the general proposition ; for, if other beings are susceptible of desires as well as himself, and if everything has ends of its own, subordinate to the great End, as well as himself, these desires and ends form a part of the phenomena by which he is to be suitably affected. The same is implied in his being capable of desiring the good will of others ; for this supposes an identity of nature, or, at least, so great a measure of identity, as that he knows what will secure their good will ; and therefore, that he will respect their desires in order to it. It is implied also in his desire of personal well- being ; for the continuance and well-being of other things are essential to it. And the same is presupposed by the great End which everything is designed to promote ; for how could that be attained, except by the continuance in well-being, or by the con- ditional restoration, of all the means necessary to it ? We are only saying, then, that the being who is to appreciate the means of Divine manifestation, may be expected to be affected towards them, in a manner tending, not to their destruction, but to their continuance and employment; and consistently with the fact that he himself is a part, and only a part, of the great system of means. 12. Now as the individual man is instinctively desirous of continued existence, he carries about with him a memorial that other beings have the same instinctive desire; and as the implantation of the desire in his own breast presupposes that 8* 90 MAN. every object without him will be found to respect and corres pond with that desire, the existence of the same desire in others equally presupposes that everything which is external to them, and therefore including himself, will also respect, and be moved in a manner corresponding with their desires. Now this is the basis of the sentiment of Justice. And this feeling of respect for the desires of others relating to whatever may be essential to their existence, is found to be an original part of human nature. With the question of the derangement or perversion of this or of any other part of our nature, by sin, we have not as yet to do. It is sufficient for us, at present, to find that there is implanted in man a sentiment which prompts him, without reference to anything except the impulsive emotion itself con- ditionally to respect the desires of others. 13. As his own desire of activity implies scope and freedom, as far as others are concerned, for its exercise, the same desire in them implies, as far as he is concerned, similar scope and liberty. Accordingly, he is originally predisposed to concede it, and to derive pleasure from the contemplation of it. 14. The correlate to the desire of obtaining knowledge is a disposition to impart it. The desire, without the correspond- ing disposition, would be a contradiction, and a source of misery. But the constitution of things is open to no such an impeachment. The communicative disposition is found to be quite as strong as the appropriating desire. And even he who might appear to be acquiring knowledge under the influence of no such an incentive, will be commonly found to be already enjoying, by anticipation, the moment when he shall be impart- ing it, and holding converse with other minds. 15. The correlate to the desire of society is a disposition to seek associates. By the former, man would have others come to him ; by the latter, he is equally prompted to go to them. The former alone, not meeting with any response from without, would leave mankind in a state of individual isolation, each desiring that which there was no disposition in the others to grant. The latter alone would, as by a centripetal force, blend all the race into a single mass, and thus make the existence of distinct communities impossible. Now the disposition to asso- ciate is evinced by man in every stage of life," and thus he is constitutionally prepared to meet and gratify the corresponding desire of society existing in others. The various modifications of this disposition account partly for the various kinds of attach- ments or affection existing in society. FKOGRESSION. 91 16. The desire of power co-exists with a disposition to con- ditional concession and subordination. Indeed the presence of such a disposition in the individual is presupposed in the bare existence of society. Even the co-existence of matter implies a law of physical subordination. And, that society could not exist without an analogous law is evident ; for if every member were unconditionally independent of every other, each would be separate, as well as distinct, from all. Mutual improvement would in that case be impossible ; for where there is no suscep- tibility of being moved by a superior power, there can be no change. But man possesses this susceptibility ; evinces a pre- disposition to fall into an order with others ; instinctively aims to augment his own individual power by conditionally surren- dering a portion of it to be combined with a higher power, and thus to find a unity in plurality, to combine individual distinct- ness with social identity. 17. The desire of esteem co-exists with a disposition to ap- prove whatever appears to be estimable in others. Beautifully is the correspondence of these susceptibilities displayed in the fact that the emotion itself is, in each instance, the special ob- ject contemplated, and is all that is sought after. Let one party evince a desire for the esteem of another, though it be ex- pressed only by a took, unaccompanied by a single act, and let the other only look approval in return, and the object of each is gained. The desire of esteem on the one side may be ex- pressed by an act which, apart from that evident desire, would have excited displeasure ; and the approving emotion, on the other, may be similarly expressed ; but, in each case, the motive is felt to be everything. The communion which has taken place between the parties is a communion of emotions, and these have a language, and a precious value, peculiar to them- selves. 18. (3.) Arrestive. As man is introduced into a system indefinitely vast, and as his knowledge will consequently ever fall far within the circle of its objects, he will be frequently meeting, both as an individual and as a race, with what is new and unexpected. It may be anticipated, then, that he will be endowed with cautionary and arresting susceptibilities answer- ing to such situations. Accordingly, he is found capable of the emotions of surprise, astonishment, wonder, admiration, awe. Many of the objects, indeed, which awaken these emotions, when they come to be known, excite the additional emotions of desire, gratitude, and fear. And hence the wisdom of that Di- 92 MAX. vine arrangement by which, in the presence of strange objects, or in novel circumstances, we are led to pause and to examine, when heedlessly to have advanced might have been fatal. The appearance of anything new, may be regarded as exciting sur- prise. When not only the object or occurrence itself is novel, but also the circumstances which have led to it are unexpected, the mind is astonished. When both the object or event and the circumstances admit of no explanation, the mind is left in a state of wonder. The beautiful awakens admiration ; and the sublime inspires awe. The consideration of the latter two emo- tions properly belongs to another class, to which reference will presently be made. They are adverted to here, on account of their tendency to arrest the attention, and to awaken reflection. The same objects, indeed, may not uniformly excite the emo- tions of admiration and awe ; but as often as these emotions are excited, even by the same objects, one of their characteris- tics is the arresting nature of the feeling which they include. Now, by the emotions specified, the mind is engaged to a fur- ther consideration of the objects exciting them ; and thus the intellect purveys for the emotions, and the emotions react and provide subjects of study for the intellect ; the mind and the feelings influence each other. 19. (4.) Perfective. The system to which man belongs is not only indefinitely vast, it is progressive, and he himself is an intelligent part of it. Accordingly, the mere susceptibility of improvement and progress, when perceived, has a tendency to awaken in his breast an emotion of complacency involving a disposition to encourage and promote it. Still more is the per- ception of supposed excellence and happiness calculated to ex- cite the feeling. In the absence of every disturbing cause, the mere look of gladness in another, falls like sunshine on his own breast. His heart is an instrument containing a chord for every note which happiness knows. And its every true re- sponse to the touch of things without, falls in with the music of the spheres is either a note of grief over something other- wise than it should be, or of pleasure in instinctive anticipation of the final chorus. 20. Akin to this class, and tending to the same refining and ennobling results, are the emotions of beauty and sublimity ; emotions which both presuppose the perfect and the infinite, and tend to prepare the mind for them. But is the beautiful objective or subjective ; is it a quality inhering in the object we admire, or is it the reflection of the admiring mind, the PROGRESSION. 93 result of its own associations ? My own conviction is, that the writers on this subject have erred in taking it for granted that it must be the one or the other exclusively. Granted, that where one man sees beauty in a given object, another sees none : it does not necessarily follow that therefore all objects are equally and entirely destitute of instrinsic beauty ; for what part of man's constitution is not liable to perversion ? Granted, on the other hand, that there are certain objects or qualities which seldom if ever fail to awaken in the mind the emotion of beau- ty ; it does not necessarily follow that all beauty is therefore entirely objective, and that the mind does not often embellish external objects with charms of its own. Admitting, however, that beauty is, in some sense, subjective, the question arises whether the emotion is original and simple, or whether it is resolvable into association. And here again it appears to me that the proved existence of a compound emotion by no means necessitates the exclusion of an emotion simple and underived. A little analysis may be sufficient to show that much of the beauty of which the mind is conscious, is of an acquired or complex origin. But this appears to be additional to the opera- tion of the primitive emotion of beauty, and partly in conse- quence of it. The very fact that the mind is found suscepti- ble of what may be called associated or suggested beauty, pre- supposes, it appears to me, the existence of an original emo- tion, as the only condition of its possibility. If objects are deemed beautiful only as they come to be associated in the mind with certain agreeable feelings, it would follow that all external objects are beautiful with which agreeable associations have been formed. Now there are two considerations which seem fatal to this conclusion; first, that although there are many things which have had the same opportunity, so to speak, of having interesting associations formed with them, as other things deemed beautiful have had, yet, by an inherent repulsive- ness, they resist the association ; and, also, that many of those things with which agreeable associations have been formed are yet never employed as images of the beautiful. The mind thus intuitively distinguishes between accidental and inherent beauty. It seems impossible to conceive of the first man, as created without an original emotional susceptibility for the beautiful; to suppose that he who was made " in the image of God," the objective expression, however faint, of Him, who is the " First Fair," should himself be destitute of an original emotion of beauty ; that he should have had to discover that he was sur- 94 MAN. rounded by elements of beauty, even in Eden, only by the slow growth of agreeable associations. Surely, the first hour revealed to him the fact ; emotion followed emotion originally and in- herently agreeable ; the first vision of that new-created loveli- ness which appeared in her ' fairer than all her daughters, Eve' the mother and model of human beauty, could not have failed instantly to awaken an admiring and attracting emotion indep'endently of all previous agreeable associations, or even if no such associations had yet been formed. These remarks imply that there is, as has been already inti- mated, objective beauty. We do not suppose, indeed, that there is anything in the object of the same nature as the emotion, any more than we believe that a property identical with our sensation of fragrance resides in the rose. But, as our sensa- tion of fragrance would not exist unless there were an exciting property in the flower, so the emotion of beauty presupposes a peculiar element in every object which excites it. It appears to me impossible to conceive of the Divine Creator as evolving the vast variety of forms and objects in nature, without any ref- erence whatever to an ideal standard of beauty. We cannot but think of beauty as one of the principles on which the world is made. The principle of utility, though often found in combi- nation with it, is yet distinct from it. And hence there are ob- jects, in which, after we have spoken of them as useful, and even as agreeable, we feel that there is another element which we can denote only by saying that they are beautiful. The same remarks are applicable to the distinct emotion of sublimity, which springs from the idea of power, and which points to the indefinitely vast, and infinite. Both of these emotions, by detaining the mind in communion with ideal loveliness and grandeur, tend to the indefinite improvement and progress of the mind. 21. (5.) Remedial. Our theory supposes not only the pro- gress of man, but his possible deterioration. If he is capable of being affected towards other objects in a manner conducive to their well-being, it may be expected that he will evince ap- propriate emotion at the perception of any object which ap- pears to have fallen out of the ranks in the onward march of creation, and a disposition to restore it to its lost place and capabilities. Accordingly, the spectacle, or even the concep- tion of an object in a state less happy or less perfect than it has been, or than he expected to find it, or than he conceives it was meant to be, aiFects him with compassion for it, involving PROGRESSION. 95 a disposition to relieve or to ameliorate its condition. And the emotion is found susceptible of the various modifications of con- cern, sorrow, distress, and anguish, answering to the states of deprivation, affliction, pain or danger of the objects contem- plated. Gratitude is the emotion consequent on the perception of a disposition in others to sympathize with, and to aid an ob- ject of compassion, or to render to another more than strict jus- tice demands, in order to his happiness. 22. (6.) Relational. The different classes of emotion which have been already enumerated give rise to a subsequent and distinct class, dependent on the activity and gratification of these primary emotions. For if man may sustain to the ob- jects of these emotions, the different relations of anticipation, of possession, or of loss, it may be expected, secondly, in accord- ance with our general proposition, that he will evince a vary- ing susceptibility of feeling, corresponding with such change of relation. If, for example* two objects equally desirable are present to his mind, but only one of which is attainable, it may be ex- pected that he will be impelled towards that object by an emo- tion of which he is unconscious in respect to the other. Ac- cordingly, the perception of his relation to it awakens the hope, the trust, or the confidence of obtaining it. By this benevolent provision he is both saved from spending himself in the vain pursuit of an unattainable end, and of thus defeating the design of his existence ; and is left to put forth his strength in the di- rection in which it is likely to be crowned with success. The prospect of failure fills the mind with apprehension, anxiety, and ' the various modifications of fear. In the attainment and pos- session. of the good desired, he is conscious of joy, and of all its modifications, contentment, satisfaction, gladness and delight. The loss of the object occasions him sorrow. If he lose it by his own folly, he is the subject of mortification or remorse. If he is deprived of it by the unjust act of another, or if, by such an act, even his retention of it be endangered, he evinces an- ger, jealousy, indignation, and resentment. 23. Now, it might, I think, be shown that each of these six classes is distinctive, and that there is not a single simple emo- tion which might not find an appropriate place under one or other of these heads, and, therefore, no compound emotion, the elements of which might not be similarly distributed. But if this classification be accepted, we shall find that the emotions cidmit of a further generalization into those arising from the na- 96 MAN. ture of the mental objects which excite them, and those arising from a perception of our relation to the objects. The former division includes the first five groups we have specified namely, the appropriative, the impartative, the arrestive, the progressive or perfective, and the restorative or remedial. The latter division includes the emotions of the sixth class namely, those attending the attainableness, the possession, and the loss of the objects belonging to the preceding classes. This latter division necessarily presupposes the former, on which account the two divisions may be designated respectively the primary and the secondary ; not, be it observed, as measur- ing or comparing their importance, but as simply indicating the order of their mutual relation. Further : all the objects and emotions of the first division are to be regarded as immediate, or as existing without any reference to time. This is true even of the desires. To class desire with the prospective emotions is to confound it with hope, an emotion of the second division, and relating to the attainableness of an object ; whereas, desire, like surprise or admiration, knows no future any more than it does a past. " It arises from good considered simply," and re- spects only the quality of objects. On the other hand, those of the secondary division are related to time, for, as attainable or unattainable, they respect the future ; as possessed, the present ; as lost, the past. Each division alike may be characterized as agreeable or disagreeable ; but with this important distinction, that while the primary and immediate emotions are essentially agreeable or the reverse, the secondary are such only in a rela- tive sense. The character of the former is carried over to the latter, and determines whether the perception of our relation to their objects shall occasion hope or fear, joy or sorrow. 24. And, further, it is important to remark, as harmonizing with our distinction between man as the being to whom, and the being to and by whom, the Divine manifestation is made, that the division which we have denominated as primary, im- mediate, and essentially agreeable, belongs to man as viewed in the former light, and that the secondary division is affirm- able of him as viewed in the latter respect. It is easy to con- ceive of a human being as successively experiencing each class of emotions belonging to the former division, and yet remain- ing a stranger to hope or fear, to joy or sorrow, in relation to any of the specific objects of those classes. As an emotional intelligence to whom the creative revelation is made, he con- templates objects ; his emotions pronouncing one class of these PROGRESSION. 97 objects, good for himself; another class, good for others; a third, surprising for their novelty ; a fourth, to be admired and loved for the presence of certain excellences ; and a fifth, pitia- ble on account of the absence of certain qualities or conditions ; As an emotional intelligence Tyy whom, partly, as well as to whom, the creative revelation is to be made, he is called on not merely to appreciate the objective. He himself, the subject of such appreciating acts, is placed in organic relation to the great scheme, and, in this relation, is to have his own nature evolved, in order that it also may be appreciated. Accordingly, the perception of his relation, not merely to the general system, but to every fraction of it, touches an emotional spring of his nature harmonizing with his conception of it as attainable, pos- sessed, or lost. And thus, while each of these emotional divis- ions alike presupposes an intellectual act as its immediate ante- cedent, the former, in accordance with the terms of our general proposition, respects our appreciation of things, in themselves considered ; the latter, our relation to them. 25. The general proposition implies, thirdly, that man's sus- ceptibility of emotion will be found co-extensive with his means of knowledge, just as these have been found commensurate with the means of Divine manifestation. Could we point to any part, or lay our finger on any object, or name any subject, in our world, which never has excited, nor can excite, a human emotion, or to which man has no chord of feeling in his nature capable of responding, it would be evident that a defect in the system of things had at length come to light. Either man's nature was relatively incomplete, or else the anomalous object which found in him no emotive vibration was not of Divine origin must have .proceeded from some discordant mind, or have come wandering hither from some unknown world. But such an inconsistency is unknown. Man has the susceptibility of being moved by everything within the circle of that creation which he has been sent to inhabit, and for the very reason that he has been sent to inhabit it expressly to interpret and to estimate it aright. In vain should we attempt to enumerate the various objects of knowledge which the world contained when he first came to be its inhabitant ; but though the task would soon set our poor arithmetic at defiance, man brought with him the power of responding to the call of each. In vain should we try to imagine the diversified groupings, and the physical combinations of which these separate objects have since then admitted, yet each of these was meant to move. 9 98 MAN. How impossible to think of all the events to which they have hourly given rise ! yet each of these was calculated to exercise a motive-power in man. We are to remember, also, that not merely the clear perception of each of these, but every degree of perception, every point of the long line between entire igno- rance of, and an intimate acquaintance with, each of all these objects and events, and their inconceivably numerous combina- tions, was calculated to affect the emotive part of man's nature. And not only is that nature equal and open to the manifold and myriad-voiced appeal, had the whole been brought to bear on a single individual, hidden susceptibilities would still have re- mained within him, and sources of feeling in reserve for other disclosures, and for future periods of his being. 26. But if such be man's emotional relation to external na- ture, how defective must that piety be which makes it a boast that it can see little in the entire circle to engage its attention, or to yield it delight : how great its loss of enjoyment : how sacred the duty of training the mind to an acquaintance with the objects appointed by God to excite our emotions ; how im- portant that the heart be kept open and susceptible to all the influences designed to act on it ! 27. Fourthly, it is further implied in the general proposition, that the degree in which man will be found susceptible of being moved by objects and events, will be regulated by his views of their importance, as this, again, depends on the degree of their subserviency to the great end. Endowed with this discrimi- nating power, every object possesses, in the eye of man's emotional nature, a different value. To a superficial observer, indeed, the objects of external nature may appear to be thrown together like the stars of the midnight sky, in inextricable con- fusion. But as among the celestial bodies the astronomer dis- tinguishes masses of different magnitudes, and constellations of different brightness, so in all our thoughts and reasonings on things, no true distinction can exist, no difference of value be imagined, which the emotions are not calculated to appre- ciate and confirm. While every object of thought exercises an influence, the mind is supposed to be affected by each in a manner proportioned to its subserviency as a means of Divine manifestation. This is the standard of their value in the Divine estimation, for this is the very reason of their existence. God himself is perpetually energizing every part and particle of the entire system, and imprinting on it some property of His nature, as a means of self-revelation. It is only, there* PROGRESSION. 99 lore, as every object included in the system, succeeds in im- parting or imprinting itself, that it answers the design of its being. According to the laws of gravitation, the feather acts on the globe, as well as the globe on the feather ; so, in the intellectual world, there is nothing so insignificant as not to possess some property which represents a Divine perfection, and whose office it is not therefore to move the mind according to the value of that property in the general scale of things. Hence the least objects are ever tending to imprint on the greatest their reality and their signature, as well as the greatest on the least. But while in this system of mutual dependence and influence the least do not fail to affect the greatest, it is to be expected that the reason of the existence of /^ach will be the principle of its operation, and that that which is more per- fect will ever be tending to conform that which is less perfect to itself. In so doing, it is only evolving its own nature, acting in harmony with the will of Him who, having endowed it with a superior power of Divine manifestation, values it in proportion as it answers the end of its existence. 28. Here, then, is a scale of valuation for all the objects in the universe. How important that we should acquire the habit of correctly arranging and valuing things accordingly ! How many of the fatal errors which occur in the education of the young, arise from the oblivion of this rule ; in consequence of which means are mistaken for ends, shadows for realities, and the body preferred to the mind ! How high a place in this scale of valuation would a human being be found to occupy! while every other object would lind a place, he, as the mediate end of all, would stand at their head, charged with the collective influences of the whole, the great blessing of every circle into which he came. How high a place above all other communications should a volume of Divine revelations occupy ! If the mutual impartation of human thoughts be the great ordinary instrument for moving the mind, what emotions may be expected to follow the utterance of Divine thoughts ! Hence " the truth " is the means of human renovation. Besides the world of natural objects employed to move the mind, God has inserted or superadded a more direct communication from Himself, has afforded views of a higher and a more spiritual economy of things ; and when the heart has been prepared and adjusted to receive the influence which the view of this new economy is calculated to exercise, this finite subjective is gradually brought into harmony with that 100 MAN. infinite objective. Hence, too, the transforming influence of prayer, in which the finite subjective is brought into direct communication with the Great, the Infinite objective ; and what can the effect of that be but to touch every spring in human nature, and to put it into activity in harmony with the Divine movements ! 29. Now this view of the manner in which the heart is sup- posed to be moved by objects according to their rank or value in the scale of Divine manifestation will serve to show the rea- sonableness of loving God with all the heart, and soul, and mind, and strength ; and how it is that the belief of the truth is essen- tial to the understanding of the truth the love of God to the knowledge of God, For the very design of my susceptibility to be moved by an object is that I may be led to attend to it, and then to deal with it according to its value. My means of doing this, however, would be inconceivably augmented, if the emo- tions were subject to laws such as the following that I should have the power of recalling and willing the presence of certain objects before the eye of the mind, in order that they might give rise to certain emotions ; that I should have the power of attending to these objects : that my attention to them should have the effect of rendering my perception of them more quick and vivid than they would otherwise be ; that while one impres- sion lasts, in proportion to its intensity, my mind should be incapable of receiving impressions from other objects ; that the longer it is under the influence of an object, the deeper should be its impression (hence the importance of attention) : that as all objects are related, so all emotions should be also. Now these and other laws exist ; but as they presuppose the activity of the power next to be considered the will our considera- tion of them must be reserved for the next section. SECT. VI. Man Voluntary. 1. We have found man capable of being moved by every object in creation. And as different classes of phenomena are of different degrees of importance in the great scheme of the Divine procedure, we found him susceptible of corresponding differences of emotion. But in all these movements of the mind by different classes of objects, we have, so far, been re- garding it as passive. For aught that has yet appeared to the contrary, the man is lying in this respect at the mercy of phe- PROGRESSION. 101 nomena over which he has no control. Everything is acting upon him, but without any power on his part either to resist or voluntarily to submit, because without any choice. He, too, may be reacting on every object within a given circle, but only as they are acting on him, unconsciously, and by a preordained necessity. 2. The reason and the reasonableness of his being actually influenced by the objective universe in a certain manner and in a certain degree, are obvious. How, otherwise, is man to sympathize with his Maker in his appreciation of all that (^od has done for His own manifestation ? When the universe was made, it only presented to the Divine Mind the objective dis- play of that which, subjectively, He had contemplated from eternity. If man, then, is to sympathize with his Maker, in this respect, he can do so only by having the objective universe as true in its relations and influences to his mental constitution as if it were within him. As the idea of the external universe was in the mind of God before it was embodied without ; for man that universe is first without, in order that it might pro- duce the appropriate effect within him. And hence we have seen that he is, in some sense, open to all its influences ; that everything is calculated to act upon him, directly or indirectly, with a motive-power. But this view of external objects acting through his sensitive nature, must, we repeat, admit of some qualification. In our last chapter, in which we saw the inor- ganic, organic, and animal dispensations re-appear in his con- stitution, we found him to be a link the last and the noblest, it is true, but still only a continuous link in the unbroken chain and iron mechanism of nature, and formed as necessarily out of antecedent materials, and as subject to the antecedent laws of cause and effect, as the link which preceded him. And for aught that has yet appeared to the contrary, the manifesta- tions of his intellectual and of his sensitive nature, are all necessary also. 3. It seems obvious, then, that if man's appreciation of the Divine manifestation, and his subserviency to it, are not to be necessitated but free, he must be endowed with such a power of directly or indirectly reacting on or regulating the emotive part cf his constitution, as shall render that appreciation and subserviency the expression of his unconstrained choice. On no other condition can his appreciation of the Divine mani- festation be morally pleasing to God, or acceptable even to himself. 9* 102 MAN. 4. In accordance with this general proposition it may be expected, first, that man will be endowed with the power of acting according to his will. Here, it may be proper to premise that by the Will is meant the power of volition ; and that a Volition, or particular act of the will, immediately pre- cedes and determines action. By Motive is intended that which immediately precedes and influences volition. 5. Now that man has the power of acting as he will is a fact conceded by all parties. It is a statement susceptible of an explanation to which even an ultra-fatalist would readily sub- scribe. If this were a full exposition of human freedom, we might accept Hobbes's definition of liberty "the absence of all impediments to action that are not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent ;" with which the definitions of liberty by Leibnitz, by Collins,* by Bonnet, and by Schel- ling, substantially agree. " That is free," says the last, " which only acts conformably to the laws of its own being." But this is language which serves to conceal the difficulty ; for the ques- tion still recurs, What are those laws of our being ? If they only amount to "the power of acting as we are acted on" if this is all that is meant by freedom, it becomes a question whether there be, whether there can be, such a thing as necessity ; for if there be, and if there are any phenomena naturally constituted to be determined by it, still, according to the foregoing defini- tions, they must be said to be free, since they act conformably to the laws of their being. The line of the poet : " the River windeth at his own sweet will," must be received as a meta- physical truth. Indeed, Hobbes actually selected the descent of water, or, its "liberty to descend by the channel of a river," as an example of freedom. But if this be not an image, not an analogy, but an example of human liberty, there is no such a thing as necessity. Fate itself, if there were such a being, would, owing to the very iron rigidity of its nature, be the most perfect instance of liberty. The falling stone, and the mind which excogitated the Principia, are alike free ; the only difference being that the former is part of a material, and the latter part of a spiritual, machine ; but the movements of each are alike mechanical. Further, if all our actions are thus mechanical, or necessitated from without, it seems to follow that our charac- * In opposition to this view of free agency, see Dr. S. Clarke's " Ke- marks on a Book entitled, A Philosophical "inquiry concerning Human Liberty," and, of Dr. Keid's Essays, that on the Liberty of Moral Agents, c. 1. PKOGKESSIOX. 103 ters are the inevitable result of an unremitting constraint; that Diderot was not illogical in concluding that there is "neither vice nor virtue," that "the doer of good is lucky, not virtuous," that "we should reproach others for nothing, and repent of nothing;" nor Bonnet, in affirming that "the same chain embraces the physical and the moral worlds," and that "the wisdom which has ordained the existence of this chain, has doubtless willed that of every link of which it is composed." On the supposition that all our volitions, and therefore all our actions, have an objective cause, there is but one Being in the universe to whom human conduct can be traced ; and Spinoza was only consistent in concluding that even He acts involunta- rily, and that in all He has done He had not the power to act otherwise.* 6. If the bare freedom of acting as we will may thus consist with fatalism, we may expect to find, secondly, as our general proposition implies, that the motives acting on the will do, in some respects, admit of selection, regulation, or resistance. If they do not, if man acts only and immediately as he is acted on, if he differs in no respect from that external world in which nothing determines, but everything is determined, then are we still in the resistless current of necessity ; and to speak of free- dom as in relation to the will, is to confound fiction and truth, and to utter a contradiction in terms. But the enlightened necessarian admits, as freely as the libertarian, the conditional resistibleness of motives. It is a fact of consciousness ; of daily, hourly experience. A motive of one kind, for example, is made to give place to a motive of another kind. Wherever opposing motives are present to the mind, one of them, at least, is over- ruled. Among different motives to an action, we are conscious of answerableness for acting from the right motive. And this single fact admonishes us that, in entering on the consideration of the human will, we have reached a province of observation essentially differing from every preceding province ; that, hence- forth, a fact unknown to all the antecedent creation (as far at least as this world is concerned) is to be admitted as a distin- guishing element in our views of man ; that the very fact of our having to do with that unique thing in creation, a will there having been, by hypothesis, but One Will, in, at least, this part of the universe, previously, and of which the human will is to * Res nullo alio modo, neque alio ordine a Deo produci potuerunt, quam productixe sunt. Ethic. Pars I. Prop. 33. 104 MAX. be the representative should be sufficient to remind us that we must move from the position from which we have hither- to looked at creation, and even at the phenomena of our own minds, and must seek to occupy a point from which we can mark the coincidence between the phenomena of nature which is necessitated, and this new phenomenon, which, in the same sense, is not necessitated. i 7. Here is a faculty investing man with the high prerogative of subordinating the laws of nature to his own purposes ; surely, that cannot be the right state of mind for doing it justice which treats it as if it were itself nothing more than, or nothing dif- ferent from, one of these same external and mechanical pow- ers. Here is a new power, by which man himself is lifted out o the category of mere things and becomes a person ; surely, it augurs ill for a correct result, if we begin by viewing this power itself as a mere thing, an additional link in the iron chain of things. That the mind cannot originate a special method of reasoning for the phenomena of the will is freely admitted ; but neither can it employ the ordinary method, without invol- ving itself in error respecting them, if it be unconscious of having made a vast transition in its subject, of having passed from the natural to the super-natural. And the danger advert- ed to is that of treating the phenomena of a faculty which is sui generis, as ordinary phenomena ; of forgetting that in speak- ing of the will we have entered a sphere in which that which man is conscious of respecting it, is to be, not merely one of the elements admitted into the discussion, but is to supply the primary data. The mind has not to reason to the facts of con- sciousness on this subject, but from them ; and therefore until they are present, and have made themselves to be heard, rea- son itself prescribes silence. On the ordinary laws of causation the mind can reason securely, as on a topic which is before it, and below it ; but, psychologically, the will presupposes the in- tellect, comes after it, and, as the" great executive power of the mind, ranks above it. At this point, therefore, reason has to wait for, and to accept of, facts of consciousness, which are them- selves ultimate facts. 8. The fact that some motives are resistible, is admitted. But this proves nothing conclusive, either for the libertarian, or against the necessarian. For, first, if the latter remarks that the view of the libertarian gains nothing by the admission, since the overcoming power itself is a motive ; it is rejoined that this is the point to be proved, not assumed ; and that to say, that it PROGRESSION. 105 is the strongest motive which prevails, because it prevails, is to argue in a circle. To which the libertarian adds, secondly, that even granting it to be a law of the will that it shall act only under the influence of the strongest motive, to conclude that therefore the act is caused by the motive, would be to beg the question at issue ; and that, in his eyes, it would be to confound law and cause, uniformity of condition and efficiency of operation. And, thirdly, that the fact that no motive is uni- formly strong for the mind, shows that all the apparent strength of the motive is not inherent, or independent of the mind which entertains it ; that its power is more subjective than ob- jective ; and that such subjective strength may therefore be the result of a prior exercise of the will. As the sensation of fragrance is not in the flower which occasions it, but in the sentient mind itself; and as the emotion of desire is not in the intellectual act which precedes and occasions it, but in the emotional mind itself; so, by analogy, the strength exhibited in volition may not lie in the motive which precedes and occasions it, but in the faculty of volition, the will, itself. The flower, the thought, the motive, being nothing more than occasions of the sensation, the emotion, and the volition, respectively; necessary occasions, it is true, but still occasions or conditions only. 9. Now the necessarian himself coincides in this representa- tion to this extent, that he never thinks of confounding motives with mere external objects. That which moves the will, he teaches, is " that motive, which, as it stands in the view of the mind, is the strongest ; " in other words, that the motive will always be, as is the character of the man viewing, and of the object viewed, taken conjointly, and that, consequently, it will be different in different men, and even different in the same man at different times. All that yet appears evident, then, is, that motives are conditionally resistible. Whether the resisting power consists of counter-motives, or of the will itself, remains to be considered. 10. Accordingly, our third remark, harmonizing with our general proposition, is, that the force of these motives which are yielded to is not the force of efficient causation, necessarily producing volitions as effects in the same sense in which phy- sical causes produce effects. Here, as in the last particular, we are removed back from the connection between volitions and their sequents to the connection between volitions and their antecedents motives. And, without saying anything at pres- 106 MAN. cnt on the certainty of this connection, we merely affirm that, in its nature, it differs essentially from that of physical causes and effects. For example, we may have decided on the performance of a certain act, for several reasons, but when just on the point of performing it, we hesitate ; during our hesitation, all the reasons but one cease to exist, and that one becomes consider- ably weakened ; and yet, after all, we decide on and perform the act. Now, this phenomenon, of a thing which is to be acted on resisting or suspending the influence of that which acts on it when at its strongest, and yet yielding to the same thing when at its weakest, has no strict analogy in maternal nature. 11. Now, the libertarian affirms that the will itself is a cause ; not a lawless, chance-like, or unlimited cause, but a cause in- variably conditioned by motives ; and that, provided these con- ditions are present, it is capable of originating particular vo- litions, and of acting or determining itself in a special direc- tion. And this view he regards as arming him with an ade- quate reply to the famous objection, that if motives are not the cause of any given volition, some previous volition must be, that volition again being preceded by another volition, and so on, ad injinitum. For, he argues, that if the will itself be a conditional cause of volition, no other cause need be invoked ; and, indeed, that the so-called reductio ad absurdum of an in- finite retrogressive series of causative acts, supposed to be chargeable, in one form, on the advocates of an unconstrained will, belongs properly and exclusively, in another form, to the necessarian scheme, which appears to exhibit the unwinding of a system of causes and effects in one long line of inseparable dependencies. 12. The objection thus combated had been made to assume a very formidable aspect by some necessarian philosophers and divines, who represented it as endangering the argument for a First Cause. Collins pretended a concern for the argument when he wrote, " Man is a necessary agent, because all his actions have a beginning. For whatever has a beginning must have a cause ; and every cause is a necessary cause. If any- thing can have a beginning, which has no cause, then nothing can produce something ! "* " As to all things that begin tc be," says Edwards, " they are not self-existent, and, therefore, * Collin's Philosophical Inquiry concerning Human Liberty, pp. 57 82. PROGRESSION. 107 must have some foundation of their existence without them- selves."* Edwards, though employing almost the same lan- guage as that of Collins, was actuated by a very different mo- tive ; by a holy jealousy lest " the scheme of free will (by afford- ing an exception to that dictate of common sense which refers every event to a cause) should destroy the proof a posteriori for the being of God." The libertarian, however, points to the log- ical consequences of the necessarian's own argument on the sub- ject, according to Collins, "that every cause is a necessary cause ; " in other words, that even the First Cause is only an- other name for Fate. Or, waiving this consideration, the liber- tarian calls attention to the fact that as, in his view, the will it- self is a cause of which every volition is an effect, the danger apprehended is not of his creation ; and, further, that he be- lieves as fully as the necessarian that all things that begin to be, and therefore every will of which volitions are the manifesta- tion, are of Divine creation ; and that every created will is con- stantly sustained in the causative activity which it exercises by the pervading agency of its Maker. 13. Another objection alleged against the self-determining power of the will is derived from the doctrine of the Divine foreknowledge. Either man is free, it is said, and then it is im- possible to foresee his volitions ; or else his volitions can be fore- seen, and then he is not free. To this the advocates of the free- dom of the will reply, first, The objection is not relevant. If the objector will only inform us of the mode of the Divine fore- knowledge in which foreknowledge we believe as unwaver- ingly as he does probably no difficulty will remain. But till then, his objection owes its strength, not to his knowledge, but to his ignorance. He is arguing from the darkness of the un- known, against the light of the known and the felt ; from a sub- ject of which he is entirely ignorant, against a fact of his own consciousness. So that in order to be employed at all, the ob- jection must be based on an assumption. It supposes, without any authority, that man's mode of acquiring foreknowledge and God's, are identical. We foresee the future only by induction from the past ; this foresight never attains to certainty except in the calculation of mechanical laws of causes and effects con- nected by necessary dependence; when the effects of free agents are to be anticipated, our foresight is, at best, mere con- jecture. Now the design of the objection is evidently to re- lieve the infinite mind from the supposed difficulty and uncer- * Inquiry on the Will, P. H, $ 3. 108 MAN. tainty of having to foresee in any other way than by induction. The objector, indeed, does not know that such is the mode of the Divine foreknowledge ; but his objection supposes that he does know. He says, in effect, that he himself could not fore- see all things, unless the whole were capable of arithmetical cal- culation ; and he assumes the same for Him whose " thoughts are not as our thoughts." Perhaps, however, he would revolt from forming such an idea of the Divine prescience ; yet this appears to be the legitimate application of his objection. At all events, while he may be sincere in the homage which he pays to the Divine foreknowledge in sacrificing to it the fact of hu- man liberty, we trust we are not less sincere in abstaining from the imposition on the Infinite Mind of that limitation and feebleness of our own minds, which alone render such a sac- rifice necessary. We do not avail ourselves of the view which regards before and after as terms relative only to our mode of acquiring knowledge ; which denies that infinite knowledge has a past and a future any more than infinite space has an above and a below ; and which represents duration as an ever-present, and the Deity as knowing all the events of that present. We content ourselves with saying, that until the objector can dis- close to us the mode of the Divine knowledge, he can derive no argument from that quarter without assuming that his dark- ness is as good as light. And, secondly, they argue, If the foreknowledge of actions necessitate them, every action, according to the scheme of the necessarian, must be the effect of two distinct causes of the Divine prescience, and also of the force of motives. He can- not regard both these as identical ; for Divine prescience, is not human motives, nor are human motives Divine prescience. Nor can we regard the one as the consequence of the other; for then the sense in which the one necessitates actions must differ es- sentially from the sense in which the other necessitates them. Thus, if the actions are necessitated by the Divine prescience, then the motives cannot cause them, for the actions would ne- cessarily follow even without the motives ; if again the Divine prescience of human actions is the consequence of the neces- sary operation of motives, then those motives would have op- erated necessarily, whether forseen or not. The true and only explanation of the difficulty appears to be this, that the term necessity is here employed by the necessarian in two distinct senses. As applied to motives producing actions, it is the me- chanical necessity of cause and effect. But as applied to Di- PROGRESSION. 109 vine prescience, it is simply the certainty of the effect. If it meant more than certainty if foreknowledge exercises a ne- cessitating force, the Infinite Agent himself is not free ; for "He seeth the end from the beginning." But are the events of His providence necessitated by His foreknowledge of them ? In other words, are they caused by His prescience or by His will ? On this point, His own declaration is definitive, " He doeth all things according to the counsel of His own will." So that his foreknowledge, leaving his will unconstrained, has sim- ply to do with the certainty of the events which He has willed taking place. And the same is true of the Divine foreknow- lege of human volitions. 14. Thus far, we have seen that man has the power of act- ing according to the dictates of his will ; that when different motives are present to his mind, some of them are resistible ; and that the force of those yielded to, is not that of efficient causation in the same sense in which physical causes produce effects. We have now to remark, fourthly, in agreement with our general proposition, that the mind is conscious of an un- constrained power of volition. However certain or necessary, then, the connection between motives and volitions, either that necessary relation is not necessitating, or else these necessita- ting motives must themselves have had an element of freedom, operative in some stage of their formation ; or else this con- sciousness of unconstrained power must be an illusion. The choice of the religious necessarian must lie between the first and second of these alternatives. Ultimately, perhaps, they are one. But to deny that an element of freedom comes into oper- ation at one or other of the two points specified, is to deny the veracity of consciousness, and to shut himself up to the third alternative. 15. We have not attempted to define the Will, for, as an ul- timate power of the human mind, we do not believe that it ad- mits of formal definition. Nor have we attempted to define the Freedom of the will, for we regard it as a simple idea. All the definitions of it, hitherto given, are nothing more than synony- mous expressions or identical propositions. The meaning or idea of freedom must spontaneously arise in the mind, and free- dom itself be consciously realized and felt, or no definition or description can ever originate the idea. It is open for consid- eration, however, at what point the element of freedom, of which the mind is conscious, comes into play as one of the antecedents of volition. For, from the moment that man received a moral 10 110 MAN. constitution, reason required that such an antecedent there should be, and consciousness attested its existence. To affirm that every action, like the will itself, is originated from without, and that the influence originating it, encounters no such element within as that of which we speak, but passes into a volition as a cause producing its unmodified effect, is fatalism. To affirm, in effect, that the Creator could not give me a choosing power, without Himself causing every act of that power as really as He caused the power itself, or choosing for me that He could not endow me, that is, with the function of choice without retaining and exercising that function Himself is a self-contradiction. To imply that nothing but necessity is possible, that it is not in the compass of Omnipotence to create a will not necessitated in its volitions, as it respects both the operation, and the compo- sition, of the motives producing them, would be to beg the point at issue, and to do this in the face of a protesting consciousness. 16. The analogy ordinarily invoked to sustain such views from the laws of causation in the material world, fails in the only point in which it would be relevant, for the physical cause or moving power is external to the thing affected ; in the in- stance of voluntary agents, the motive is not external. Emo- tions are my emotions, states of my mind, expressions of my character. Granted, that inducements to action come from without, the very fact that they come to be accepted or rejected, shows that the mind is free in a sense which takes its phenom- ena out of all strict analogy with the phenomena of mechanical causation. Granted, also, that some of these inducements are acted on, it is not as mere objective realities that they move me. They do not adopt me, but I, a person, accept them, and accept them as having become subjective states of my own mind. And does not Edwards (it will, perhaps, be asked) take, substantially, the same view of the motives ? distinctly affirming that the vo- lition depends not only upon " what appears in the object view- ed, but also in the manner of the view, and the state and circum- stances of the mind that views :" in other words, on subjective as well as on objective conditions ? Admitted. This, indeed, is the great principle of his system. So, also, Mill, in insisting on the universality of the law of causation, affirms that " by say- ing that a man's actions necessarily follow from his character, all that is really meant is, that he invariably does act in con- formity to his character."* But the question is, what faculties * System of Logic, I. 419. PKOGRESSION. Ill or processes are concealed or included in this state of mind, and in this character ? Do they really involve an unconstrained power ? or have they been all made what they are by con- straint ? He who adopts the latter alternative ought, in fair- ness, to omit the subjective element in his account of the condi- tions on which volition depends ; or else, to add that, ultimate- ly, it is traceable entirely to objective causes, and, as such, is independent of the man, and irresistibly formative of him. 17. The sense, then, in which we speak of emotions as our emotions, states of our minds, supposes that they involve the presence of an element of freedom. Coleridge, indeed, has af- firmed that " the man makes the motive, and not the motive the man." Taken without explanation, each member of this sen- tence may be regarded as containing only a half-truth. From the first moment of conscious volition, the man and the motive begin to make each other ; but they operate in a certain order. In that first moment, and in all the successive acts of man's voluntary agency, the motive chronologically precedes the voli- tion, the will psychologically precedes the motive. Even though it should appear, therefore, that the motive determines the voli- tion, it could have acquired the power only from the prior con- Bent of the unconstrained will itself. Motives are ever modify- ing character, but, primarily, character is to be viewed as modi- fying motives, and, therefore, as being ultimately the sum and result of its own acts. 18. In corroboration of this view, it is to be borne in mind ihat we are actually indebted for the idea of causation to the conscious exertion of our own will. I make an effort to move yny arm, and I move it. The relation between the effort and the movement is a relation of succession ; but it is more. If my consciousness is to be relied on, it is also mediately or immedi- ately a relation of efficiency. The effort supposed is in the will ; in making it I feel that I really produce an effect, of which the organic movement is the manifestation ; and it is in the con- sciousness of this that I find the idea of cause. And, further, in the very act of making the effort, I am conscious of a control- ling power in reserve, which leaves me free to make it or to de- sist from it. 19. " But may not this consciousness be an illusion arising from our ignorance of the antecedent causes ?" This sentiment may be either boldly asserted, or tacitly implied, and taken for granted. In his endeavor to reconcile the feeling of liberty with the doctrine of necessity, Lord Kames, in his JZssays and 112 MAN. Sketches, explicitly adopted and advocated it. According to him, at the moment when man imagines that he is performing his own act, he is only an instrument developing a concealed necessity. He is, in effect, a machine, fancying itself an agent. The distinguishing characteristic of his nature is a lie, and he is constituted to act through life on the firm faith of its being a truth. Startling as this consequence may be, the reasoning of those who argue the doctrine of necessity as if the will were subject to the law of cause and effect, in the same sense as the phenomena of nature, is chargeable with invoking the same re- sults. But, in proportion to the revolting nature of the view adverted to, is its value as a proof of our consciousness of free- dom ; for it is the confession of an ultra-necessarian or fatalist, of the utter uselessness of questioning the fact of such conscious- ness. The Stoics themselves, the champions of fate, strenuous- ly asserted the liberty of the will.* Descartes, in the same passage in which he asserts that God is the cause of all our ac- tions, appeals to the evidence of consciousness for the freedom of the will.f Nothing but a truth deep-seated in the conscious- ness, could thus maintain its ground amidst hostile views, and cause its voice to be heard by unwilling ears. It is recognized in the common forms of speech in all civilized languages ; in the universal faith, in the judicial administrations, and in the estab- lished practices, of mankind ; nor does any rational being ever lose the consciousness of it. 20. Were it not for this conscious freedom, man would be incapable of government or obligation. Some, indeed, would object that the possession of such a power would render him in- capable of government. Superior to the government of com- pulsion and necessity, such as that to which matter is subject, it certainly does render him. But not incapable of rational and moral government ; for it leaves him open to the influence- of motives. And it is the consciousness of his power to deal with this influence freely, as opposed to its necessitating force, that lies at the foundation of his sense of responsibility. To say that any moral obligation could rest on a creature whose actions are determined by necessity, would be a self-contradiction. If my volitions are truly and in every sense, necessitated, the Divine jurisdiction in my breast cannot commence till after I have willed. If my power has no reference to my motives, I cannot * Enchiridion of Epictetus ; the opening sentences, t Cartesii Epistolce VIII. IX., Pars I. PROGRESSION. 113 be held responsible for acting from one motive rather than from another. If my freedom lies exclusively in the connection be- tween my volitions and their sequents, why yet am I so consti- tuted, that even when that freedom is denied me, I feel con- scious of an obligation to will, purpose, or intend a certain act, despite my want of opportunity to perform it ? Of power with- out responsibility we can conceive ; but responsibility without power is a nullity. An unconstrained will, in some sense, is essential to make morality even possible. And if the authority of consciousness is, as we saw, ultimate and infallible in the in- tellectual department, it must be received as decisive on moral questions also. 21. Fifthly, an important element of this great subject yet remains to be considered, and one which is vitally involved in our general proposition, namely, that although motives are not necessitating causes of volitions, they stand in necessary and harmonious relation to them as, at least, conditions. Many of the advocates of human liberty have erred in not assigning to this part of the subject its due importance. In their anxiety to protect the precious interests involved in the conscious fact of an unconstrained will, they have not sufficiently borne in mind that this freedom itself contemplates the attainment of an end ; that every individual will is placed in the midst of a great system, of which every part has a tendency in the same direc- tion as that in which the will finds its highest liberty. 22. It is at this point of the subject if anywhere that the necessarian and the libertarian, by aiming to combine, in one view, the claims of the individual will and the claims of the great encircling system in which it moves, may hope to approx- imate, though they may never entirely coalesce. Each errs, perhaps, not so much in what he affirms, as in what he denies. Each approaches and contemplates the subject from a different point, and seldom sees to advantage more than one side of it. The most eminent of each party are the readiest to admit that neither view alone is adequate to all the exigencies of the sub- ject ; that there is essential truth lying on each side of the line which separates them, and truth which is separately de- monstrable ; and that the great difficulty lies in mutually ac- cepting each other's mode of exhibiting that truth, and in the reconciliation of their respective views. To conclude, however, that because we find it difficult to harmonize two propositions, therefore they are irreconcilable, or else one of them must be false, is to erect our minds into the standard of truth, and our 10* 114 MAN. present knowledge into the measure of all possible attainments. Surely, nothing is wanting on the part of the religious dispu- tants on this subject but a little Christian magnanimity, in order to dissipate their mutual misunderstandings, and so to narrow the debateable ground which separates them as to make them practically one. 23. If now it be true, as stated, that man is made for an end whatever that end may be the libertarian must concede that the liberty of the will cannot be such as to leave man in- different to that end. Suppose man made for happiness, it can- not be a condition of freedom that he should be equally biassed in favor of misery. Suppose him, again, introduced into a sys- tem in which some things tend to his misery, and others flow in the direction of his happiness, it cannot be required in order to his freedom that he should be affected by both classes alike. But if he be not, the so-called liberty of indifference has no ex- istence. And it was against that theory of the will which invests it with a self-determining power irrespective of motives, that Edwards especially directed his powerful logic. The utter untenableness of such a theory is further evident from the fact that it makes a habit of virtue or of vice impossible ; for in pro- portion as a course of conduct became habitual, the very force of the habit would destroy its moral character, so that it would be only necessary for a man to persist in a vice until it became inveterate, in order to neutralize his guilt. In the same man- ner, virtue would be diminished in an inverse ratio to the force of the motives to practise it. Accordingly, Whitby and others actually taught that the actions of the holy and of evil angels are alike destitute of a moral character, and therefore alike un- susceptible of reward and punishment. Now, to say nothing of the revolting difficulties in which a libertarian entertaining such views would be involved were they to be applied to the Divine volitions, we may safely refer them for a reply to the consciousness of every individual, and to the fearful moral con- sequences to which they directly tend. 24. That men act without motives is a doctrine as alien from enlightened views of an unconstrained will, as from those of moral necessity. Even Dr. S. Clarke, in his remarks on Col- lins, affirms, that the dictate of the understanding is substantially the same as the determination of the will, and cannot be distin- guished from it. But though men never act without motives, it is contended that it by no means follows that their actions are caused by motives. The motives are the necessary occasion PROGRESSION. 115 and condition of the will's activity, while the will itself, as the principle and cause of its own volitions, determines the particu- lar volition, in the view of these motives, to be what it is, and not otherwise. " What determines the man to a good and wor- thy act, we will say, or a virtuous course of conduct? The intelligent will, or the self-determining power ? True, in part, it is ; and therefore the will is pre-eminently the spiritual con- stituent in our being. But will any reflecting man admit that his own will is the only and sufficient determinant of all he is, and all he does ? Is nothing to be attributed to the harmony of the system to which he belongs, and to the pre-established fitness of the objects and agents, known and unknown, that sur- round huii, as acting on the will, though, doubtless, with it like- wise ? a process which the co-instantaneous, yet reciprocal ac- tion of the air, and the vital energy of the lungs in breathing, may help to render intelligible." * More strikingly still may this illustration be made to serve its purpose, if we think of the moment in which the air and the lungs first come into contact at the birth of the infant. What nice arrangement and exqui- site adaptation are necessary in order to bring about the coinci- dence of the two in that eventful moment ! Without the sur- rounding air there would be no motion of the lungs, no life ; but the air is only a condition of life. Were it the cause, the lungs would never cease to play as long as they continued to be sup- plied with air. In a manner somewhat analogous, motives, as conditions, influential conditions, are necessarily co-present with our voli- tions. For man to act without motives, even if it were optional, would only serve to convict him of irrationality. To affirm that he is naturally constituted to act and will without reasons, would be to lower him to a level with animal instinct. That he is really influenced by motives is a fact of which he is as conscious as that he is not irresistibly determined by them. So that while motives are not physically the causa causans, equally clear is it that they are the sine qua non of our voli- tions. If a will necessarily constrained by motives is a contra- diction, it is equally evident that a will separate from, ancl unin- fluenced by them, is a nonentity. 25. But how is this view of the necessity of acting from a motive compatible with the doctrine of an unconstrained will ? We think it may be shown, as a matter of fact, that neither in * Coleridge's Aids, c., p. 67. 116 MAN. the being of God, nor in the laws of nature, (and these are the only sources whence opposition could come,) is there any- thing incompatible with the co-existence and perfect harmony of the two. The first part of the problem is this : Can a particular will exist at the same time with a universal will ? Can the freedom of the finite being exist without being overborne by the infinite power of God ? and His power escape invasion from the uri- compelled activity of the human will? That all beings are 'necessarily dependent on God that their dependence is not an arbitrary arrangement, but the inevitable condition of their continued existence, is a fundamental truth ; and the question is ? can man's personal freedom co-exist with this state of dependency? Now, that freedom and law can co-exist is evident ; for the highest freedom and the highest law actually exist in perfect combination in the Creator himself. We behold it in that co-existence of voluntariness and appointment which constitutes the basis of the whole scheme of Divine manifesta- tion. It is recognizable even prior to that, in the order of thought, in the still more simple form of that Primary purpose by which the Self-sufficient bound himself to appear as the All-sufficient, and thus, certainly, for an infinite Reason, yet voluntarily, brought himself under obligation to do that which He will certainly, yet voluntarily, be ever doing. 26. But if such co-existence be realized in God, we can show next that a similar co-existence in man is not merely probable, but is even made necessary, by the great end of the Divine manifestation. Even if no such end existed if the design of God in creation were simply to be known, the co- incidence of law and will in man was necessary ; for if this coincidence exist in the Divine Being, the only condition on which it would be possible for us to know it would be, that He will the existence of the same in us. If His design were only to be loved, this coincidence was still necessary ; for none but personal beings beings influenced by motives, and determined by will possess the capability of loving, as none but such are the proper objects of love. But the great and ultimate design of creation is the manifestation of the Divine All-sufficiency. The greater the Divine Perfection, the more certainly will that perfection be exhibited in the most exalted of His creatures. Now the co-existence of law with freedom in His own nature is the highest perfection of which a creature can conceive. It is that alone which makes a holy and a happy creation pos- PROGRESSION. 117 sible. Not to impart this perfection to a creature, is to leave His highest glory as a Creator unrevealed. Destitute of this characteristic, man, so far from being in His image, would be most unlike Him; for he would want the very perfection which distinguishes an intelligent and a personal God from a blind, impersonal, and resistless fate. And creation, as it would only exhibit a power working mechanically with blind impulsion, would, instead of displaying His glory, only serve to detract from it. Man, then, may be expected to resemble God in this important respect. But this is saying, in effect, that his par- ticular will can co-exist with the Universal will. For the co- incidence of law and freedom of motive and volition in God is the very thing to be manifested. And the coincidence of man's own individual will with the Divine will is essential to make the manifestation possible. 27. But, it may be asked whether it is permissible to reason from the law which regulates the Divine activity to the law of man's dependence ? Are they sufficiently analogous, that is, to justify the conclusion that if the former co-exists with Divine freedom, the latter is equally compatible with human liberty ? We cannot hesitate to reply in the affirmative. For the nature of the difficulty to be solved is the same in each instance. True, in the former case, the law is freely Self-imposed ; while, in the latter, it is an unavoidable necessary condition. But the point in question is, not the origin of the law, nor the reason of the law, but the reconcilement of its actual existence with real free- dom for law is limitation. Now, in the manifested God we actually behold self-limitation; a limitation of power which, having been originated, not only permits the existence of other powers, but even their wanderings, without crushing them ; a limitation of activity which, so far from doing all things at once, admits of unending progression ; a limitation freely Self-imposed for the highest purpose, and of which the highest perfection alone is capable. Not merely, therefore, is freedom compatible with the limitation of law, we have, here, the archetype of this grand truth for all orders of free intelligences, and the ground of its existence and manifestation in them. He "hides His power," that man's power might not be overborne. He veils His effulgence, and circumscribes His activity, that man might be able to look abroad, and might find ample scope for his free agency. 28. And, by the same arrangement, the Divine agency escapes the infringement of the free activity of the human wilL 118 MAX. The possibility of man's sinning, indeed, only demonstrates the reality of his freedom. And the fact that his sinning was only possible, and not necessary, proves that the limitation arising from his dependence left that reality untouched. "We are not now, however, treating of man actual and historical, but of man potential. And, we repeat, that the fact that the infinitely free God was pleased to will the limitation of His own agency, is the very ground which makes the freedom of man possible, though he is dependent ; and which provides for his obedience, though he is free. While his necessary finiteness and depend- ence surround him with a circle beyond which he has no power to move, the Supreme Will assigns that, within that circle, his will shall be free from the centre to the circumference. And what higher guarantee can be given that his unconstrained movements will be all in harmony with the free activity of the Supreme Agent, than the fact, that his freedom is an en- dowment designed expressly to manifest and represent the Divine freedom ? 29. This coincidence of the free human will with the Divine is essential, therefore, in order to its perfection. For if the operation of the Divine will is according to infinite reason, and is therefore perfect, the "freedom of a finite will is possible under this condition only, that it becomes one with the will of God." Where this harmony has either never been disturbed, or is entirely restored, holy influences from without may be supposed to act on and through the emotions most directly. There is nothing in the mind to divert their course, or to di- minish their intensity. " The pure in heart shall see God ;" and the light which streams from his presence reaches their will without decomposition or refraction. Voluntarily they place themselves in a line with its rays, and spontaneously move only in the direction of its beams ; and as they go on consciously brightening under its radiance, the continuous act of uncon- strained choice which retains them in ft, reflects it back again in homage with added splendor. And thus the state in which they appear, from their spontaneous and perfect conformity to the Divine law, to be the least free, or to be most completely surrendered to the will of God, is the state in which each is most vividly conscious of individuality, and in which all feel themselves most exultingly free. 30. This view suggests the reply appropriate to the second part of the inquiry How can the freedom of the human will consist with the necessary laws to which nature is subjected ? PROGRESSION. 119 Nature itself owes its origin to the same source, and exists for the same end, as the human mind, however different its consti- tution. Had the free human being come into a world not yet subjected to law (admitting for a moment the possibility of such a world), he would have found that until it was brought under law, it was no world for him either to know or to employ. Its pre-existing laws were the very conditions of its habitableness. All of them, however, are but the appointments and inferior expressions of the same Divine will which has endowed him with freedom. It is not possible, therefore, to conceive, on the one hand, of nature as standing in contradiction to freedom ; and if, on the other, the human will is in coincidence with the Divine will, it follows that it is in coincidence with everything that expresses that will, and therefore with nature. Besides, nature itself is mechanical only as viewed apart from its Maker; and as having no will of its own, or iii itself. Regarded as the production of the Infinite will, and the expression of Divine attributes, it supposes that the finite will which already agrees with the Infinite will, is one with nature also. " The finite will," as Coleridge expresses it,* " gives a beginning only by coincidence with the absolute will, which is at the same time, infinite power. Such is the language of religion, and of phi- losophy too, in the last instance. But I express the same truth in ordinary language when I say that a finite will, or a finite free-agent, acts outwardly by confluence with the laws of nature." Primarily, the only freedom he needs, is that of being able to act on his own nature, to assert his exemption from the iron chain of physical laws. And this liberty he consciously asserts, partly in the high ends to which he applies these laws. Availing himself of these, or acting in harmony with them, his power over nature is of a degree unknown a power, indeed, which, as comprehended in his own will, corresponds with the Supreme will. Nature thus treated, so far from being hostile to his freedom, aspires to share it ; and he, the finite artist, aspires to call into existence forms unknown to nature a second nature in humble imitation of the productive energy of the Creator. 31. And thus we arrive at the conclusion, that though motives are not the compelling cause of volitions, they yet stand har- moniously related to them as essential conditions. This is at once a fact of observation, and a truth of consciousness. It is * Aids to Reflection, p. 261. 120 MAN. this which makes both sin and holiness possible. And it is this wondrous arrangement by which man, the inferior part of whose constitution is itself mechanical and necessary, po the means of bringing that part of his nature into the Divine presence, and of offering it up as a free-will offering to God. Thus resembling his Maker in another respect; for as all material nature is the product of the Divine 'will, and is made subservient to the Divine glory, so man, made in the image of God, possesses the means of subjecting that condensed world, his own nature, to the Divine will, as the free act of his own individual will. 32. We have now to attempt, as proposed, a brief exposition of the laws of the will in relation to motives. If the view which we have taken be correct, it may be expected (1.) that the will is capable of availing itself, in some manner, of the different motives or classes of motives, to an act or a course of conduct, before it decides what that course shall be. Motives are of different orders, answering to man's different relations, internal and external ; motives arising from his appetites, his self-love, his affections, and his regard for the will of God. (Of that sense of duty, or consciousness of obligation, which may underlie the entire field of motives, and which, when present, adds to them a sacred and ultimate character, we have not now to speak.) These motives lie around the will, and enclose it. The more a man observes, converses, and reflects, the more the motives of each class are multiplied. No motive of one class can influence him to put forth a volition, to which volition mo- tives belonging to the other classes do not also bear a more or less intimate relation. Are these other classes of motives to exist in vain ? At one time or other, they have been present to his mind; can they in no way be recovered when it is most important that they should be felt ? and, if they are recoverable, what is the state of the mind in the interval which passes between the first motive to an act, and the action ? Now, that the will is not necessarily impelled by the first motive which acts on it, in any given instance, we have seen already. And if j Having decided not to yield to it, at least, till other motives appear; if, during this pause, the mind re-produces prior con- victions, or presents new considerations, and if the will is then decided by these latter reasons, it has in so far resisted the first motive, and has adopted another, which presented itself as the indirect consequence of that resistance. This is a mental process of familiar occurrence. If the plurality of motives PROGRESSION 121 between which the will decides be not a plurality of co- existence, but of successive existence, the process begins in the act of the will negativing the first motive, and thus affording scope and opportunity for the introduction of others; this is followed by the power of recollection, or suggestion, or both, producing them ; and of attention in regarding them ; though after all, perhaps, the first motive may prevail. This power of the will it is which constitutes the chief difference between the mere creature of impulse or of circumstances, and the man who acts from wise deliberation. 33. (2.) It would further augment the power of the will if, besides being able to call for objects of thought as motives to action, each of these objects should suggest to the mind a train of other and associated objects, accompanied by their appropri- ate emotions. Now, such proves to be the fact. An object may solicit the will to move in a particular direction, but before the movement is made, other objects of thought are summoned to reinforce the prior motive, or else to counteract it. They come not singly, but in linked association ; and it depends on which of these the attention fixes, and on its character, as to whether the will moves in the direction at first indicated, or in an opposite course. Not only will that act of attention magnify the importance of the object, and invest it with a light which will cast the others into shade ; if that act of attention be con- tinued, the effect will be to bring all those other thoughts as auxiliaries, and to range them around that central motive, to strengthen and to serve it. Everything will seem to join as minor motives, in urging the will in the direction of that selected and principal motive. How vital the connection which exists between the subjective and the objective, when the world without is thus able to call up trains of thought in the world within ; and the world within to be ever drawing in fresh materials of thought from the world without ! How vital the connection between these movements within, when, to call for a single thought is to tend, at least, to move the whole ; and when, of all which do appear, there is not one which might not prove an incentive to action ! And how lofty that power of the mind which, when surrounded by these motives, and influenced by them, can yet decide to which it will yield ! 34. (3.) The power of the will would be still greater if, be- sides indirectly calling for motives to action, it could select and attend to any one of these motives at pleasure. We say in- 122 MAN. directly call for them, for, a8 we have shown above, the will cannot, on the instant, bid any or every train of thought into its presence which the nature of the impending volition might ren- der seasonable and important. But, having delayed the volition, having resisted a present motive that it might delay, and having thus placed itself in a condition to receive the influence of other motives, the mind does possess the important power of selecting either of these, and of concentrating upon it the whole of its regards. This is the faculty of attention; and an act of attention is a voluntary act, an exercise or manifestation of the will. According to a preceding head, I can, by a volition, transport myself to a new scene of observation ; arid, in so far, I must be regarded as voluntarily exposing myself to the action or influence of whatever objects that scene may exhibit. But, when surrounded by these objects, I can, according to the present head, determine, by another volition, on which, or whether on any, of all these objects I will fix my regards. Be- sides the muscular power which my will employed to take me to the spot, I can, when there, employ the same muscular power to remove me from it; or to close my eyes and to shut out the entire scene ; or to keep my gaze steadily fixed on only one of all the objects which it contains. So also, by voluntarily calling for certain objects of thought, and by bringing them from the past, the distant, or the future, I am, in effect, willing the emo- tions which they are calculated to excite. The particular ob- ject I wish to think of, indeed, may be forgotten ; but something relating to it may be remembered, and by dwelling upon that, I am voluntarily giving it the opportunity of recalling all the objects of thought with which it is associated ; and, among them, the particular idea I desire to recover. Not only therefore is the emotional influence of that particular idea when recovered to be traced back to that act of the will which first called for it, but whatever influence has been shed on me by the train of ideas which at length brought me to it, I must be regarded as having voluntarily submitted to likewise. And, in like manner, if I desire to avoid a certain object of thought, I can call for one of a contrary nature ; in which case, I voluntarily withdraw my mind from one class of emotions and subject it to another. 35. (4.) Further, the power of the will would be shown if, besides being able to summon objects as occasions of motives into its presence, and to select any one of these as an object of attention, the eifect of that attention should be to render our perception of that object more vivid than it would otherwise be. PROGRESSION. 123 " The first effect of our attention," says Dr. Chalmers,* is the brightening of that object to which it is directed, or rather, the clearer view which we ourselves acquire of it. There is not a greater quantity of light upon that which we are looking to, but the look itself makes the same quantity of light serve the pur- pose of a more distinct and luminous perception." The differ- ence of effect between a vague reverie in which a whole train of mental objects glides along indistinctly, and a vigorous effort of attention in which the mind is concentrated on one of these objects, is just that which follows from glancing carelessly at a landscape when deepening in the shades of evening, and that which arises from singling out one of the figures of the land- scape, approaching it, and making it for a while the exclusive object of regard that is, it gradually detaches itself from the surrounding objects with which it had appeared confounded, and assumes and reveals its own definite outline. And then, not merely is the emotion excited by an object, a summons to at- tend to it, but the effect of our attending to it is, very generally, and up to a certain point, an increase of emotion. And thus the will, besides exercising an influence anterior to the emotion by calling for objects of thought likely to excite it, can then ex- ert its power in the presence of these objects by selecting any one of them, and confining its attention to that, and then show its power over that selected object by so holding it before the mind as to render it the occasion of deep interest and emotion. 36. Now these laws of the will in respect to the emotions, disclose the secret of the error of those who affirm that belief is an involuntary, and therefore an irresponsible act, as well as the ground on which it may be boldly met with the counter-affirma- tion, that man is accountable for his belief. " The state of mind which constitutes belief is, indeed, one over which the will has no direct power. But belief depends upon evidence ; the result of even the best evidence is entirely dependent on attention ; and attention is a voluntary intellectual state over which we have a direct and absolute control. As it is, therefore, by pro- longed and continued attention that evidence produces belief, a man may incur the deepest guilt by his disbelief of truths which he has failed to examine with the care which is due to them."f * Moral Philosophy, chap. v. p. 195. The whole of this chapter, " On the Morality of the Emotions," and of the preceding one, " On the Com- mand, which the Will has over the Emotions," are of great value. t Abercrombic's Moral Feelings, p. 182. 124 MAN. While man is by no means responsible for the evidence of the thing to be believed or disbelieved, for the attention which he gives to it he is responsible ; for this is under the control of his will, and on this depends the presence or the absence of convic- tion. 37. And here, also, we see the sense in which the apparently paradoxical proposition is strictly true, that belief precedes and prepares the way for the understanding. The evidence of the truth of a proposition is one thing, the meaning of the proposi- tion so evidenced is another ; the reception of the former may- be indispensable to the comprehension of the latter. This is true in relation even to many of the phenomena of physical sci- ence. The fact of there being antipodes, is only one of the many truths which philosophy itself once pronounced to be " ut- terly inconceivable." And it was not until attention to the evi- dence of the fact had commanded belief, that the mind was enabled to conceive of the fact itself. The belief of the evidence of the fact, prepared the way for the apprehension and admis- sion of the fact itself. Still more generally does the same order obtain in the department of moral truth. The evidence of the fact of a Divine revelation, for example, is one thing ; the mean- ing of its contents is another. Now, he who erroneously denies that he is responsible for his belief, will surely admit that he is responsible for a sincere desire to know the truth. But this desire cannot be sincere if he do not accord to the evidences of revelation the attention which its importance deserves. This at- tention is a voluntary exercise, and this voluntary exercise, issuing in belief, provides, in the meaning of the revelation whose claims are admitted, a new object of attention of transcendent interest, which attention, again, is, at least, one of the conditions of rightly understanding it. ALnd thus it is that a man's moral state influences his intellectual conclusions ; and that there may be guilt attached to his ignorance, his judgments, and his beliefs, because his atten- tion never took the initial step for arriving at the truth, or because he voluntarily took that step in a state of mind for which he was responsible, and which could ensure only a wrong result. 38. (5.) Still further is the importance of the will in the won- derful economy of the mind illustrated by the fact that while one emotion continues, and in proportion to its intensity, the mind is incapable of receiving impressions from extraneous ob- jects. The attention, in the very act of fastening its eye on a single object withdraws the mind from the objects which lie around it ; and, then, in proportion to the light with which that PROGRESSION. 125 attention invests that object, all the surrounding objects are eclipsed and disappear. Hence it is that the attention of two persons may be fixed on apparently the same object, and yet they may be affected in a manner diametrically opposite. Let the object be supposed to present the twofold aspect of suffer- ing and unsightliness, and the explanation is, that the attention of one was so riveted on the suffering that he heeded not the unsightliness, and that the attention of the other was so en- grossed by the unsightliness that he was blind to the suffering. 39. The great advantage, and, as we believe, the Divine design of this arrangement is, that the man might persevere in the comparatively undistracted study of one subject till it be understood, or rightly appreciated, before he passes on to another ; and that, as objects rank very variously in importance, he might be able to award the right amount of regard to the superior without being diverted by the inferior, and to the infe- rior, when necessary, without being entirely engrossed by the superior. To the same law it is owing, that thfe exhibition to the mind of a new class of truths or facts may become the means of entirely displacing objects which had previously engrossed the attention. This makes a gradual change of the character possible. Surrounded by a new objective let down from Heaven, the mind which had looked ouly at the sensible and the passing, may come to " look, not at, the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen " and " eternal." 40. (6.) The power of the will would be considerably in- creased if it were the tendency both of emotion to become weaker by repetition, and of voluntary acts to become easier and more frequent by repetition. Now, this is found to be actually the case. The frequent repetition of any mechanical act, at stated periods, renders it more and more facile, till at length it comes to be accomplished almost unconsciously, and leaves the performer at liberty to attend to other things while he is doing it. In a similar manner, the more frequently the thoughts are voluntarily turned into a given channel, and a vir- tuous act is consequently performed, the less vividly is the emotion felt which first attracted the thoughts in that direction, and prompted to that action ; and the less necessary is it for the will to put forth an effort to induce us to perform it. This is the law of the momentous power of HabiL And the end gained by it is obvious. The design of external objects is, through the medium of thought, to produce emotions, and the object of these is under the determining power of the will, to 126 MAN. lead to outward action. But when the action has become easy and familiar, the emotion is no longer, to the same degree, necessary. When the scene of wretchedness to which we were at first attracted by deep and even painful commiseration, has been frequented so often that our visits have become habitual, where would be the advantage or necessity of the painful emo- tion ? The intensity of the feeling gradually diminishes, and is exchanged for the habit of active benevolence. 41. The advantages of this wise arrangement are numerous. It leaves the emotional part of our nature free to be attracted in a new direction, and to be excited by fresh objects of interest ; and as we are capable of only a limited measure of excitement, this economizing of our sensibility is of great importance to our progress in knowledge and virtue. It tends to prepare us to look beyond the visible and the present for objects commensu- rate with our capacity of enjoyment. As mere sublunary ob- jects of interest are necessarily limited, and the interest which they excite of comparatively brief duration, the mind is left at liberty to look on into other worlds for objects of imperishable interest. It warns us not to rest in the barren luxury of emo- tion, but to advance at once to the action which is the appro- priate end of that emotion ; since emotions not only begin to subside from the moment they reach a certain point (so that it is of the utmost importance to acquire the habit of performing that action before the languor commences), but, if neglected to be carried on into the appropriate action, that languor proceeds all the more rapidly till it terminates in insensibility. Hence, the fearful consequence of indulging in that species of reading which excites a sympathy never to be carried out into benevo- lent conduct ; and of being often excited by the preaching of the gospel without taking a step towards genuine repentance ; and of habitually witnessing dramatic exhibitions for the mere sake of emotional excitement the excitement terminating only in sentimental tears, and in cheap verbal lamentations over imaginary woes, while the suffering race, the world of real woe, for which those tears were designed, is forgotten and passed by with callous indifference. It renders our perseverance in a right course of action, the longer we continue in it, more and more certain. Virtue becomes increasingly subjective. Each act of goodness imparts new strength to the will, and renders it more certain that the act will be repeated. Another conse- quence of this arrangement is that we come to possess " greater moral power, while the given action itself requires less moral PROGRESSION. 127 efibrt. There hence arises a surplus of moral power which may be applied " * to higher courses and nobler acts of virtue. Not only is the power by which it gave impulse to an inferior course of action set at liberty, there is also the power acquired by that effort to be added to it. And thus is it ever presenting us with the strongest incentives to a right course of action. For, if every act tends to the formation of habit, and if every habit goes to form character and to render it unalterable, who can calculate the interminable consequences attached to every moral voluntary act. 42. But the same arrangement which is so advantageous for the virtuous, becomes, in the experience of the vicious, a means of fearful punishment. Every act of sin tends to repeat itself, and to render the whole man more vicious. Each sinful indul- gence yields an ever-diminishing amount of gratification, though the passions which demand it are ever growing in tyrannic strength. Thus their evil character is gradually approaching a state of unchangeableness. And often it happens, that a voice from within has pronounced it unalterable, long before the voice without authoritatively confirms the sentence in the fearful words, " He that is unholy, let him be unholy still." 43. (7.) If such be the power of the will in relation to the emotions, it may be expected (as, indeed, we have taken for granted) that it will possess the means of exemplifying its in- ternal activity by corresponding external movements of the body. To will, indeed, is to act ; for to act, is to put forth a power ; and this the will does in every volition. Hence, if a man will to move his arm, and the arm be paralytic and inca- pable of motion, still the will, the moving power, has acted ; all that is wanting in such a case is an external physical movement in obedience to the internal act of the will. " If there were no external world," remarks Cousin, f " there would be no com- pleted action ; and not only is it necessary that there should be an external world, but also that the power of willing should be connected with another power, a physical power, which serves as an instrument, and by which it can attain the external world. Suppose that the will were not united with an organi- zation, there would no longer be any bridge between the will and the external world; and no external action would be * Elements of Moral Science, by F. Wayland, D.D. Brown University, &c. c. iii. 2, an excellent treatise, t Elements of Psychology, c. x. 128 MAN. possible." Now, the muscular system has been placed entirely at the service of the will. As the will is the executive power of the mind, the muscular system is its appointed and obedient instrument ; and hence the loss of command over any part of it by disease, is the loss of so much means of carrying our voli- tions into external effect. 44. One fact there is connected with this mysterious arrange- ment worthy of our attention that, in obedience to the will, this muscular organization should equally express what we will to do and to have done, and what we will not to do and not to have done. Pre-eminently is this the fact in relation to one part of this organization the tongue. Not only is it capable of expressing, at the bidding of the will, what we would arid what we would not have, but of conveying to others the know- ledge alike of the propensities of the inferior part of our nature, of the perceptions, judgments, and ideas of the intellect, of the varying play of the emotions, and of all the movements of the internal world, with which the will perhaps has had nothing to do but to keep them in check, and to cause them to be described and imparted through the medium of speech. But this the will has to do with them. And it is because the tongue has so wide a range in relation to the movements of the world within, and forms so ample and efficient a medium of communication with the world without, that its government, whether in a personal, social, or religious point of view, is of such vast importance. And as that government is given into our own power, being placed under the control of the will,, we can account for the em- phatic declaration of an apostle, " that he who offends not with his tongue, the same is a perfect man." 45. (8.) Lastly, the power of the will in the individual would be indefinitely augmented by acting in harmony with other wills. The man in whom the will so far exerts its au- thority as to permit no explosions of passion, and no yielding to temptation, but who controls the forces within him, and " governs his own spirit," is pointed at by the finger of Inspira- tion itself as a model of power. By placing himself in har- mony with the laws of nature, which are themselves expres- sions of the Divine will, he can greatly increase his power. By resisting them, he would only diminish his own proper power, and lose the use perhaps of some of those muscular or- gans and instruments which are already placed at the disposal of his own personal will ; but by falling in with them, and avail- ing himself of them, he can, in effect, multiply these organs PROGRESSION. 129 and instruments ; can appropriate and arm himself with many of the forces of nature, and become the will, the moving- power, of many of its laws, as to when they shall act, and when they shall not. Beyond this, he can add to his own the muscular forces of other men, by uniting his will with theirs in a com- munity of purpose. He and they can freely will to do this. Influenced by the same motives, they can determine on the same end, and move together like one man towards it. How important that others should thus feel and will with us, in order that the injustice which one man could not restrain single- handed, might be successfully repelled by the union of many ! How important is this union in order that the good which we are unable to accomplish separately, others may help us to perform ! Hence, it was contemplated in the primal benedic- tion, as the means by which the earth should be replenished and subdued to man's dominion. And wherever it has existed for any length of time, nothing has been able to stand before it. 46. But only let us imagine this community of wills to exist in relation, not merely to some particular objects, however good, but to some central object, around which all those particular objects revolve, and to which they are subservient. Let us conceive these wills to be moving harmoniously together, not merely towards an end, however good, but towards the end for which all other ends exist, and exist only as means. Let us suppose this community of created wills to be ever moving in harmony with the Central and Supreme Will of the Creator ; to regard each indication of His will as the loftiest motive for their wills ; each movement of His as the broad and open path of freedom for theirs ; let us suppose even their, desires to be so accordant with their wills that in uttering the language of the one they should be giving expression to the other, and that the language most expressive of their united and highest en- ergy should be Thy will be done Thy will, as the only means of satisfying our wills ; and, in order that our wills our whole nature may find perfection ! What a sublime spectacle would such a scene present ! a race of free creatures finding the very perfection of happiness and freedom in the perfection of obedience ! finding, and exulting to find, that the act in which they put forth their highest energy and their noblest assertion of liberty, was, at the same time, the act most perfectly in har- mony with the Divine will, and with all the laws of created nature ! God, nature, and man, in universal activity, but ex- hibiting the harmony of a single Force ! 130^ MAN. 47. But even suppose that only a single human will were in strict accordance with that supreme will, who does not see that, by moving in a line with it, everything else in accordance with it would be one with that finite will? all the mechanical laws of nature would be one with it. Hence, "the beasts of the field" are said to be "in covenant with him;" "the stars in their courses fight for him ;" and " even his enemies are," under cer- tain circumstances, " at peace with him." He takes all nature with him ; because nature, like himself, is moving in harmony with the will of God ; and he takes, if not the wills, the con- sciences of "his enemies" with him also. And the longer he continues to identify his will with the Divine will, the more un- alterable becomes his habit of obedience, until his moral charac- ter, like that of God, assumes the regularity and constancy of moral necessity. While the prayer of Scriptural faith is repre- sented as actually giving him "power with God," the Supreme will unites Avith his will, and becomes a new antecedent to new and unexpected consequents. 48. Having already, in the preceding paragraph, indulged in remarks somewhat in advance of what the subject requires, I may be permitted, in the same strain, to call attention to the manner in which the Scriptures assume all these laws of the will, or take their existence for granted. For example: can the will either indirectly repel, or call for, objects of thought, which are sure to excite corresponding emotions ? we are ex- horted to stand aloof from certain things, lest they should inju- riously affect us, and we are to set our affections on objects of a different order. Can we select one object out of many, and mentally dwell on it ? we are exhorted to " distinguish between things that differ," to make the right selection of things on which the mind is to dwell ; to " keep our hearts," in this respect, " with all diligence," remembering that every object admitted into them will leave its print there. Do objects affect us in proportion as we attend to them ? we are to " take heed how we hear," and are held responsible, on the pain of perdition, for not believing the Gospel. Are emotions to be carried out into action, and to lead to the formation of habits ? we are reminded that "pure religion is this," not merely to talk of the suffering, not to shed fruitless tears over unseen woes, nor even to give money for their relief (for that may not be in our power, or may be done without sympathy), but "to visit the fatherless and the widow" to cultivate active benevolence. Is the muscular system placed at the service of the will? we are to "bow our PROGRESSION. 131 ear" to receive instruction; and to "yield our members as in- struments of righteousness unto God." Can our wills mutually harmonize ? the church is the community instituted expressly to exhibit the sublime spectacle we have described; and the glory of God is the great end which is to harmonize and unite them. In a word, can the finite will accord with the Infinite ? It must li ve in the contemplation, and move daily in the presence of that ethereal purity and unclouded glory, which transforms the beholder into its own image. SECT. VII. Conscience. 1. In the preceding section, we behold the introduction of that novelty in the created universe, at least in this part of the Divine dominions, an intelligent will. In our previous survey of the progressive unfolding of the Divine scheme, we started from the Infinite and Only Will, in which the whole had origi- nated, and, descending regularly from link to link in a pro- longed chain of causes and effects, we had encountered nothing capable of being anything else than clay in the hands of the pot- ter. Now, however, we have come to another will : to a being who is not only capable of intelligently examining that chain, though he himself, as far as all but his will is concerned, forms a part of it, but capable, also, by means of his will, of disturbing and putting himself out of harmony with it, of putting even the inferior part of his own nature in opposition to it. Here, then, in the bare possibility of this opposition is a hypothetical effect, of which nothing in the antecedent chain can be regarded as the cause. There, in truth, is, in. some sense, a cause, or a power hypothetically opposing itself to the First Cause. For, if the production of the natural universe be traceable to a cause the Will of God the possibility of disturbing it, or of con- sciously taking anything out of harmony with it, must obviously originate in a cause also ; certainly, it could not originate in one of the mechanical links of the pre-existing chain. 2. Owing to this new power alone it is that man can form the idea of a First Cause. The fact that he himself possesses a will, is revealed to him exclusively by its own acts ; and this gives to him the idea of a cause, of a power capable of originating an act or state. He is conscious that in willing, he, though influenced and conditioned by motives, originates and constitutes an actual beginning, and as there is no example of this in the phenomena 132 MAN. of Nature, he can only refer their origination to a Supreme Will. 3. But while these phenomena are consecutive, and exist in linked continuity, his will, for the reason assigned, claims imme- diate descent from the Divine Will, and direct alliance with it. The Divine Will originated them all ; man's Will is above them all. But for the Infinite Will, creation could not have taken place ; but for the Finite Will, the existence of that Infinite Will, as the originating power of creation, would have been unknown ; so that no manifestation would have been possible. Wanting in the human will, therefore, creation would have been defective in the principal respect; for the very image and know- ledge of the Will in which the whole had originated, would have been wanting. In the human will alone does God behold and manifest the reflection of His own will. 4. But by the possession of a will representative of the Divine Will, man ceases to be a thing, and becomes a person. Destitute of this attribute, he might be used or employed as a means to an end ; but, possessed of it, he could not be so employed, with- out doing violence to this distinctive part of his nature, for it would be against his will. He is now a being who has, con- sciously, an end and object of his own, and, as such, a person. For, as God is his own end in that scheme of manifestation which originated in his Divine Will, so, by right of his finite representative will, man is not merely a means for the attain- ment of this end : he is capable of seeking his own end, and of subordinating everything created and inferior to it, though he is made to find the true end of his own existence only by seeking it in perfect coincidence with the great end. 5. And, for doing this, he is to be held accountable. In giv- ing him a will, a foundation was laid for his responsibility. Up to that point he was irresponsible, because mechanical and powerless. But the bestowrnent of a will grave and awful privilege! gave the other parts of his nature into his own keeping, placed the most sacred trust in creation his character in his own hands. Still, though man is a voluntary being, and though this element of his nature is indestructible and ina- lienable, free agency alone does not constitute and complete his accountableness. This is only the executive power of the mind. If there be a right and a wrong, and if every voluntary act be the one or the other, it is essential, in order to responsibility, that the free agent should know what he ought and what he ought not to do. In other words, if man is to be a manifestation PROGRESSION. 133 of the Divine character as well as of the Divine will, and is to be held accountable for voluntarily harmonizing with the Di- vine manifestation, it may be expected that he will be capable of a consciousness of obligation in every instance in which he has the means of subserving the great end. 6. The phraseology here employed indicates that we are now entering on a new region of truth that we have left the quid est, and have reached the quid oportet, the province of ethics or moral science. " The purpose of the physical sciences through- out all their provinces, is to answer the question, What is? The purpose of the moral sciences is to answer the question, What ought to be ?"* It is of the first importance, however, to the correct view of our subject, to bear in mind that moral science itself branches off into two similar divisions. In this department, the question, What is ? relates to the eternal and immutable distinction of right and wrong to the foundation and principle of moral obligation, a foundation and a principle which existed anterior to creation, and which would continue to exist were the universe of creatures to sink into annihilation ; while the question, What ought to be ? relates to the moral con- stitution and conduct of the creature. No one has insisted more cogently on the necessity of steadily abiding by this dis- tinction than the writer himself just quoted. When once it is recognized, indeed, it seems to be so obvious, as to render illus- tration unnecessary. And yet such men as Paley and Hume, Bentham and A. Smith, have either failed uniformly to make the discrimination, or else have entirely confounded the two branches of the subject together. 7. That branch of the subject with which we have at present to do, relates to the latter of the two questions stated not to the nature and foundation of rectitude, but to the process or faculty by which we are made capable of recognizing and re- sponding to it. The question, What constitutes virtue ? is quite distinct from our present inquiry How does man derive the notion of virtue ? Virtue has an objective existence independent of the subjective mind which takes cognizance of it, Rectitude is not a creature. From eternity it has resided in Him in whom fact and right are one. Man is a creation of God, and his mind is made to appreciate that rectitude. The constitution of his mind, then, is a subject of inquiry as distinct from the foundation and principle of the rectitude for which it is made, * Sir J. Mackintosh's " Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy," Introduction. 12 134 MAN. as his faculty of reasoning is from the figures and truths of geome- try, which he feels to be independently and eternally neces- sary.* 8. In accordance with this important distinction, and with the terms of our general proposition, it may he shown, first, that man universally recognizes a moral quality in actions. The same action may be viewed in different lights as clever or foolish, seasonable or unseasonable, polite or uncourteous. But besides this, the mind is capable of recognizing in it a quality which no terms can express but those of right or wrong. And this distinction is universal. When once the idea is developed in the mind, it is never entirely lost. The same mind cannot regard the same quality of an action as right and wrong, just and unjust, at the same time. The two ideas resist every at- tempt at such commutation. Their objects may change with circumstances, but their nature never. Even the professional infanticide of a barbarous clime pursues his horrid calling, not as wrong, but right not merely as a right (the noun instead of the adjective, with which it is often confounded) acquired by custom or l&w ; but as being, for certain supposed reasons, ad- jectively right. And the criminal whose life may appear to have been spent in a laborious endeavor to confound the dis- tinction between right and wrong, confidently calculates, when called to trial, on justice ; he assumes, that is, that the sentiment of right and wrong is common to man, and that which he de- mands is right. If he is to be punished, he assumes that jus- tice is something anterior to punishment, and he demands to be punished according to justice. Indeed, the ideas of reward and punishment invariably presuppose the ideas of merit and demerit, and these again presuppose the ideas of right and wrong, terms designating a quality or distinction in actions which man universally recognizes. 9. This view of conscience answers, by anticipation, the sup- posed objection to the universality of conscience, that the moral judgments of men widely differ respecting the same actions. Had we represented conscience as a faculty divinely empowered to divide all external actions into two classes, and to pronounce infallibly that every action of the one class was right, and every action of the other class wrong, our statement would have been liable to the objection. But regarded as the faculty which re- cognizes a moral quality in actions, we know of no exception to * Dr. Chalmers's Bridgewater Treatise, Vol. I. p. 72. PROGRESSION. 135 its universality. Many of the very practices erroneously ad- duced to prove the non-existence of conscience in certain par- ties, are the expedients ignorantly resorted to in the hope of appeasing its remorse. The Thugs of India did not strangle their human victims, because they believed murder to be an in- nocent act ; but under the notion that they were offering an ac- ceptable sacrifice to Kalee, the goddess of destruction, and that the strangled victim went directly to Paradise. The most de- graded of mankind are found to recognize a moral quality in actions, however mistaken they may be, owing to their perverted judgments, in its specific selection. 10. Granting the universality of conscience, the want of uni- formity in its decisions may be objected to, as greatly detracting from its value. To which we reply, first, that perfect objective uniformity, amidst an endless variety of disturbing influences could only be secured by investing conscience with a dictatorial power destructive of all responsibility. Secondly, the moral differences which actually obtain among men, relate, not so much to whether a certain action shall be regarded as virtuous or vicious, as to whether one of two qualities, of which both are admitted to be right, may not be sacrificed to the other. Thus, when theft was publicly taught and rewarded in Sparta, it was not because honesty was not deemed a virtue, but because patri- otism was deemed a greater virtue, and therefore the dexterous robbery of an enemy was honored at the price of honesty, as a service rendered to the state.* Nor, thirdly, is the extinction of conscience to be inferred, from the spectacle of a multitude of men madly rushing into the same crime, any more than the non- existence of the passions is to be inferred from their subjection to control. Their moral judgment respecting it may be one with our own, when the judgment shall be allowed to speak ; even if their present impetuosity of conduct is not to be inter- preted as an attempt to silence the present uneasiness of their conscience. Nor, fourthly, is anything other than the temporary perversion of conscience to be inferred from the deliberate and continued practice of certain crimes, a perversion produced only as the result of example and instruction. The patient training rf the Indian Thug did not permit the apprentice to the trade of murder to witness the horrid rites till the third year of service ; implying that it required all that time to murder conscience, or * Sir J. Mackintosh's Dissertation, i. See also Dr. T. Brown's 74th and 75th Lectures. 136 MAN. rather to bribe it to silence. And, fifthly, it is to be borne in mind that even where conscience is thus temporarily drugged to silence on some one point of morality drugged by an opiate administered in the name of morality or religion it is always liable to awake, or waiting to respond to a monitory call ; while, apart from such temporary and local exceptions, the same vir- tues are honored, and the same vices execrated, with remarka- ble uniformity, in every part of the world. 11. "The principles upon which men reason in morals (says Hume) are always the same, though their conclusions are often very different." The uniformity which obtains even among the laws of nations can be accounted for only by supposing a com- mon moral nature. " Whatever variety may be discovered," says Michelet, in his origin of French Law, " unity predomi- nates. It is an imposing spectacle to find the principal legal symbols common to all countries, throughout ah 1 ages. In truth, to one who considers not the human race as the great family of God, there is in those multitudinous voices, out of hearing of each other, and which, nevertheless, respond each to each from the Indus to the Thames in reciprocating sounds, wherewithal to dismay the intelligence, to strike the heart and spirit of man with consternation. Transporting was the emotion which I my- self experienced, when, for the first time, I heard this universal acclaim. Unlike the sceptic Montaigne^ who so carefully fer- reted out the customs of different nations to detect their moral discordances, I have found a consentaneous harmony among them all. A sensible miracle has risen before me. My little existence of the moment has seen and touched the eternal com- munion of the human race." Even if morality were a question to be decided by vote, it would be much more rational to con- clude that, since a thousand to one agree concerning a given action that it is wrong, therefore the action has a recognizable moral character, than that it has not because one in a thousand differs. And such subjective uniformity actually exists amidst all the objective varieties of its manifestation which the world presents. 12. The inquiry, What are the means by which man recog- nizes and responds to the moral quality of actions ? is, as ob- served already, entirely distinct from the question, What is that moral quality itself, or, what is virtue ? Yet so generally, in ethical discussions, has the former been involved in, and con- founded with, the latter, that, in order to ascertain the opinions which have been entertained on the subject, we shall not be able PROGRESSION. 137 to avoid a glance in passing at some of the theories of virtue in which these opinions are implied. 13. Is our notion of morality derived from our acquaintance with human law ? According to Hobbes, virtue is only a syno- nyme for political law ; actions have no moral character prior to human legislation. But this is to confound a right acquired by law, with right independent of law. 14. According to another theory, morality is founded, not on the will of man, but on the will of God. But, in the language of Aquinas, "though God always wills what is just, nothing is just solely because he wills it." We believe, indeed, not only that every command of God is in perfect harmony with recti- tude, but that the rectitude is the reason of the command. Now, both these theories of the nature of virtue the first creating it by human law, and the second by Divine law, though materially differing from each other, may be regarded as basing morality on arbitrary appointment; and as consequently reducing the means necessary to recognize morality to a mere acquaintance with such appointment. But as man recognizes moral distinc- tions independently of such external knowledge, the true solu- tion of the problem must be sought further. 15. Is our notion of a moral quality in actions derived from the arbitrary constitution of our minds, independently of any such quality in the actions themselves ? This is a consequence which has been charged on Hutcheson's theory of a moral sense ; for if a tiling be right only as it gives rise to a constitu- tional feeling of approbation, it follows that a change in our moral constitution would originate a corresponding change in the nature of rectitude. According to Adam Smith, we judge of the actions of others by a direct, and of our own, by a reflex, sympathy; those with which we fully sympathize are right. But this again is to make virtue depend on the constitution of the mind, and renders all morality relative. In a similar man- ner, virtue, according to Dr. T. Brown, is a mere abstraction, expressive only of the relation between a certain action and a certain emotion. From which it would follow that virtue has no objective reality ; and the relations of right and wrong might have been reversed by the mere reversal of our personal feeling rf approbation. 16. These three theories are, in effect, only modifications of the last of the preceding two, which makes virtue a creature of arbitrary legislation. The principal difference appeal's to be ihat whereas in that theory the Divine command is objective and 12* 188 MAN. is imposed upon the creature ; according to this, it is subjective, or expressed inherently in the original constitution of the mind ; each, however, agreeing in this, that an action whether externally enjoined or internally approved, might have been the very opposite of what it is, and yet have been virtuous. With the objectionableness of this theory, however, as a theory of virtue, we have nothing at present to do, except as it bears on the an- swer to our inquiry Is our notion of a moral quality in actions owing entirely to the arbitrary constitution of our minds ? Ad- hering, as our consciousness compels us, to the conviction that we recognize in actions an inherent moral quality which is quite independent of such recognition, we could not admit the affirm- ative of the question without implying that our moral nature consists of a moral deception. Our moral faculty protests against the possibility of such an imposition. Having recog- nized the rectitude of an action, we feel, in the depths of our consciousness, that it would and must be right, even though we had been denied the power of perceiving it. We feel that it is right, anterior to, and independently of, our perception of it ; and that our perception of it is simply owing to a certain faculty with which we are endowed for that purpose. 17. Is our nation of morality the result of 'intellectual intuition ? According to Cumberland,* the professed antagonist of Hobbism, certain propositions of unchangeable truth, or laws of nature, prompt us to social morality ; obedience to these principles is virtue ; and these are " necessarily suggested to the minds of men ; " or are the direct product of " right reason." Cudworth f resolves virtue into an agreement with the ideas which have existed eternally and immutably in the infinite mind. Dr. S. Clarke j regarded it as an agreement with the eternal relations fitnesses of things. According to Wollaston, virtue consists in conformity to truth, or to the truth of things. Now all these writers differ from the class preceding, in regarding right and wrong as words representing real characters of actions, and not mere qualities of our minds what actions are in themselves, and not the feelings or sensations attending them. And they agree with each other, not merely in thus regarding virtue as * See his " Philosophical Inquiry into the Laws of Nature." t " Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality." J " Being and Attributes of God : and Evidence of Natural and Revealed Religion/' Author of " The Religion of Nature Delineated." PROGRESSION. 139 an objective reality as eternal and immutable in the objects to which the word is applied but also in regarding our per- ception of it as intellectually direct and necessary. Whether represented as necessarily suggested to the mind, or as contem- plated in the mind of God, or as perceived immediately like a mathematical truth, they unite in making the recognition of it a purely intellectual operation.* We have therefore to allege against them, in common, that they overlook the voluntary and emotive part of our nature. That virtue does coincide with nature, reason, truth, order, and the fitness $f things, we confidently believe, but it coincides with something more. To say that our idea of virtue is given us in a purely intellectual act or intuition, by no means satisfies the requirements of the case. It leaves us to a state of passive contemplation. Our consciousness of moral obligation and ap- probation remains unexplained. In our recognition of moral qualities we are conscious of more than an intellectual percep- tion. 18. Is our idea of the moral quality of actions derived from the exercise of the judgment ? According to Dr. Wardlaw, the faculty which decides on the right and wrong in actions is the judgment^ Dr. Payne applies the term conscience to "the susceptibility of experiencing those emotions of approbation and disapprobation J which are consequent on the prior decision of the judgment. My own conviction is, on grounds to be here- after stated, that the function of moral discrimination, and the susceptibility of consequent emotions, both belong to the province of conscience a view to which Dr. Wardlaw expresses himself as by no means averse. More than mere judgment appears to be necessary, in the case supposed, if the term be taken in its strict and logical acceptation. Thus, if judgment be that act of the mind which affirms a relation between two notions previ- ously existing in the mind, no one can affirm that the sky is blue unless the notion of the sky and of the color which he predicates of it, be first in his mind. And no man who had no previous idea of right and wrong, could ever affirm either of these qualities of an action ; " much less could he by this faculty, * Malebranche's " Love of Order," and Jonathan Edwards's " Love of Being," might have placed them in the same category as far as their ob- jective abstractions, order and being, are concerned ; but by employing the term love, their theory of virtue ceased to be merely intellectual. t Christian Ethics, Lect. V. } Mental and Moral Science, p. 404. 140 MAN. acquire the original idea." Butler, indeed, is supposed by some to have regarded conscience merely as the exercise of judgment in the department of morals. " There is (says the Bishop) a principle of reflection in men by which they distinguish between, approve, and disapprove, their own actions." * But the very fact that he here and elsewhere speaks of conscience as a dis- tinct principle in man, seems to negative such a supposition. .And the office which he assigns to conscience, of not merely dis- tinguishing between actions, but of also approving and disap- proving or else of distinguishing by approving and disappro- ving them implies that if the act is intellectual it is emotional also. The commanding power likewise with which he regards conscience as invested, intimates that, in his view, its province is not merely discriminating and intellectual, but also imper- ative. 19. Is our idea of morality derived from a principle of asso- ciation ? According to Hartley, the formation of our passions and affections, and even of our sentiments of virtue and duty, takes place by means of " the association of ideas." With cer- tain modifications, Sir J. Mackintosh adopts this view. But though conscience is thus " acquired," he represents it as " uni- versally and necessarily acquired ; " and though not simple but compounded, the language of all mankind (says he) implies that the moral faculty, whatever it may be, and from what origin soever it may spring, is intelligibly and properly spoken of as one." But on this theory we may remark that the idea of right and wrong is, in the case supposed, a part of the com- pound. In the first moral association of which we are con- scious, its existence is presupposed. Besides, by affirming that the moral faculty is universally and necessarily acquired, it must be meant that the acquisition takes place in consequence of an original law of our nature, which universally and neces- sarily operates. " He supposes association," says Dr. Whewell, in his preface to the Dissertation, to be employed in the edu- cation rather than in the creation of our moral sentiments." If this be, as it appears, a correct interpretation of the theory if there be an original law of the mind which only needs edu- cation, and which, as the result of a necessary process, exhibits a growing power of recognizing the moral quality of actions, the most questionable part of the theory disappears. That the moral faculty was designed to enlarge its domain as we advance * Sermon I. PROGRESSION. 141 from infancy to mature age, till we come to " make conscience of everything," there can be no doubt. One could wish, how- ever, to have been more particularly informed concerning the nature of that original law, which is supposed to become con- science only as it is developed by association. 20. Is our idea of virtue derived from a calculation of conse- quences ? Opinions on this subject are divisible into the follow- ing clauses : First, the theory of Hobbes* properly desig- nated the selfish system according to which, whatever pro- motes our own selfish interest is for that very reason right ; and whatever opposes it, wrong. To this it is sufficient to reply, in passing, with Butler, that there are the same kind of indications in human nature, that we were made to promote the happiness of others, as that we were made to promote our own. Indeed, the impeachment of this revolting view of morality is implied in each of the theories which follows. 21. Secondly, the Utilitarian theory of Hume makes virtue coincident with whatever is agreeable and useful to ourselves without injury to others, and to others without injury to our- selves. This is an obvious improvement on the selfish system, for it contemplates the advantage of others. Besides, Hume adds the term agreeable to that of useful ; which amounts to a virtual abandonment of the utilitarian character of the theory. For by leading us back to the question, On what is this fueling of agreeableness or approbation founded? we find ourselves re- ferred to a principle distinct from that of utility. Indeed, to the existence of such a principle repeated reference is found in his writings ;* as if its admission were involved in the very act of denying it. Bentham, too, the great advocate, in recent times, of utilitarianism under the name of the greatest-happiness prin- ciple, exhibits, by a happy inconsistency, the impossibility of dispensing with the word ought in ethical discussions. For, though repeatedly angry with the word, his work is denominated Deontology meaning, the Science of Duty, or of what men ought to do. 22. According to Paley in his theory of expediency, or of general consequences, " Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting * Thus, one of the sections in the third book of his " Treatise of Human Nature," is headed, " Moral Distinctions derived from a Moral Sense." See also the first section of "An Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals.' 11 142 MAN. happiness."* This proposition appears to place virtue on high- er and nobler ground than that occupied by either of the pre- ceding theories ; for it recognizes the will of God and an eter- nal future. In reality, however, it is chargeable with a gross selfishness, which the doctrine of Hume condemns. It implies that every act is vicious which is not performed for the sake of the agent's own happiness ; and consequently, that the impulses of generosity and compassion should be repressed as being wor- thy of reprobation. In effect, too, it makes the " tendency to produce happiness " both the rule of virtue and its foundation ; for while professing to regard the will of God as the rule, it finds the test and standard of that rule in the " tendency to pro- duce happiness," because " God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures."! 23. The distinguished American divine, Dr. Dwight, places his theory of utility on still loftier ground. Disclaiming utility as the rule of virtue to us, he affirms that " virtue is founded in utility "| meaning, by utility, a tendency to produce happi- ness. For, while contending that " the foundation of virtue is riot in the will of God, but in the nature of tilings," and that " the foundation of virtue is that which constitutes its value and excellence," he finds this nature and excellence in virtue only as it is productive of happiness. This, however, is not to find the foundation of virtue in the nature of things, but in their ten- dency, and is to confound the intrinsic excellence of rectitude with its effects. As Dr. "Wardlaw has well expressed it, " the principles of moral rectitude are not right because they produce happiness, they produce happiness because they are right ; their nature not arising from their tendency, but their tendency from their nature." 24. In my remarks on this important subject, I would by no means imply that virtue may not ultimately coincide with utility the great moral law with the greatest happiness. It must be admitted that, even now, the expedient often proves to be right ; and that in regard to things morally indifferent, utility and expediency may allowably guide our determination. But this is widely different from saying that expediency is the crite- rion of rectitude, and utility to us the rule of morality. That our notion of the moral quality of actions, and of their conse- quent obligatoriness, are not, and cannot be derived from a con- * Moral and Polit. Phil., Book I., c. vii. t B. II, c. iv. J Theology, Serm. XCIX. Christian Ethics, Lect. VI. PROGRESSION. 143 Bideration of then* consequences, may be made evident from the following considerations : 25. First, it assumes that the production of the greatest amount of happiness is the controlling principle of the Divine government ; and that, if it be not, we are under no obligation to obey God. Perhaps (says Bishop Butler)* Divine good- ness, 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 suitably with the na- ture which he has given them, to the relations 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 which 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 crea- tion." Not only does the idea we are opposing assume the reverse of all this independently of proof, but, further, if the happiness on which virtue is made to depend be the happiness of the universe, including the infinite God, it would follow that even His own holiness depends on his happiness, not that his happiness springs from his holiness. Nor even then could we be certain that an action would be right for us in proportion to its productiveness of happiness, except by taking it for granted, further, that our happiness is coincident with His. While the discovery that either of these assumptions was false would dis- charge us from all obligation to virtue, or else would show that we had mistaken its very foundation. 26. Secondly, the theory of utility even in its least excep- tionable form confounds together motive and obligation, the subjective and the objective, the intention of the agent and the intrinsic nature of the act. For if it be affirmed of an act that it is good because of its tendency to promote the general happi- ness, it follows that it is subjectively good or virtuous, owing to the motive of the agent to promote that end. In other words, virtue as an objective independent reality is annihilated, as well as the obligation which belongs to it, and the motive of the agent usurps their place. urps tneir place. 27. Thirdly, the theory of utility, or of happiness, as the rule * Analogy, Part i., c. 2. 144 MAN. of virtue, is incapable of general application in our hand. " Whatever is expedient, (says Paley,)* is right. But then it must be expedient upon the whole, at the long run, in all its effects, collateral and remote, as well as in those which are immediate and direct; as it is obvious, that, in computing con- sequences, it makes no difference in what way, or at what distance they ensue." This might be almost regarded as a grave satire on the entire theory. It presumes on the presence and equal activity of qualities in which men are commonly most varied and deficient those of foresight and intelligent comprehension. It overlooks the fact that man is, at present, in a state of things in which multiplied disturbing forces are in operation. " The individual is to imagine what the general consequences would be, all other things remaining the same, if all men were about to act as he is about to act. I scarcely need remind the reader, what a source of self-delusion and sophistry is here opened to a mind in a state of temptation ?"f Or if it relies on the com- bined and generalized results of human experience, these are inaccessible to the majority of mankind in almost every situa- tion in which they would be of any value ; and to the still greater majority of individual actions they are not applicable at all. And the theory in question everlooks the fact that, as every action embraces an infinity of relations, the Infinite mind alone can apply it. Taking advantage of this doctrine, infidel attempts have not been wanting to subvert the foundations of morality. Beausobre, for example, remarks, " the goodness of actions de- pends upon their consequences, which man cannot foresee, nor accurately ascertain." 28. Fourthly, in its grosser form, the utilitarian theory is chargeable with disparaging even the great doctrine of motives. By placing virtue in the outward act, it confounds the morality of the agent with the law. It calls away the attention from that which we are, to that which we do ; and thus tends to patronize hypocrisy. It robs the benevolent of the virtue belonging to their good intentions; simply because their poverty or want of means may prevent them from carrying their intentions into effect. 29. Fifthly, the theory under consideration overlooks the ef- fect of actions upon the moral state and habit of the mind. It implies, for example, in opposition to the general verdict of man- * Moral and Polit. Phil. Bk. II. c. viii. t Coleridge's Friend, Vol. II. Essay xl. PROGRESSION. 145 kind, that happiness does not depend in the highest degree on the state of the mind ; that there are certain outward things on which happiness depends more than on the exercise of virtuous affections and principles ; for otherwise, the cultivation of such principles must be regarded as an important independent object. And it implies also that outward actions do not flow from the affections and states of the mind ; otherwise the regulation and right state of the affections must be a distinct object of primary importance. Indeed, it is now generally admitted by utilitarian moralists, that in estimating the utility of an action, " its influ- ence on the agent's own mind," and " on the characters of other persons besides the agent," is to be taken into the account. But this concession, besides prescribing for the judgment a condition of very limited and precarious application, virtually abandons the theory which it is meant to modify ; for if the utility of an action consists partly in its promoting morality and confirming virtuous habits, it follows that virtue is a distinct good, worthy of being valued, and capable of being cultivated, for its own sake alone. 30. From what has been said, it is evident, sixthly, that the doctrine in question is open to the charge of logical inconsistency. What is the design of Paley in teaching that expediency is right, or of Bentham in affirming that the greatest happiness of the greatest number is the fundamental principle of human action, but to show that men ought to act on these views ? But why ought they to do so ? The answer may be, either, because it is their interest to promote their interest which is a truism explaining nothing ; or else, because they are hound to aim at the general welfare which is only equivalent to saying that it is their duty to do it ; thus presupposing moral obligation in the very act of denying it ; or assuming that moral quality in the premise, which they deny in the conclusion. 31. Seventhly, the theory of utilitarianism confounds cause and effect, or the nature of virtue with its beneficial tendencies. That all the moralities are useful, we admit ; but to infer from this that utility is the foundation of morality, is to jump to a most unwarrantable conclusion. " Man may be so constituted a| instantaneously to approve certain actions without any refer- ence to their consequences, and yet reason may nevertheless discover that a tendency to produce general happiness is the essential characteristic of such actions."* So that even when * Ethkal Phil. 1. 13 146 MAN. reason has made this discovery, the questions remain, whether that moral approbation does not imply a distinct moral quality in actions ? whether virtue may not be useful because it is right, instead of being right because it is useful ? whether the rectitude of certain principles might not have existed from eternity apart from all possibility of trial by their practical tendencies in cre- ated natures ? and whether their utility, subsequent to creation, be not either their direct and appropriate result, or else the mark which God has been pleased to affix to them in token of His divine approval ? These important inquiries the utilitarian doc- trine overlooks or negatives, falsely inferring, that because virtue conduces to happiness, therefore utility is identical with virtue ; whereas, if, as we believe, the principles of rectitude had an existence anterior to the present order of things, their condu- civeness to happiness is simply the manifestation of their nature and tendency. 32. Eighthly, as the present is a question of fact, we make our appeal to consciousness. We affirm, that when we are con- scious that an action is morally wrong, the consciousness is neither preceded nor produced by a conviction that the act will be followed by disadvantage or loss. When we say, for example, that theft is wrong, we mean something more than that it is use- less, and this something more is the inherent criminality of the act which the mind perceives intuitively. Even Bentham admits that " the mind will not be satisfied with such phrases as, * it is useless to commit murder,' or, 'it would be useful to prevent it,' " And the reason of our dissatisfaction with them, as Dr. Whewell remarks, is, " that they do not express our meaning ;" that be- sides the calculable injuriousness of theft and murder to society, and prior to any such calculation, we instinctively revolt from the wickedness of it. And to Paley's objection, that a wild man of the woods, when first caught and brought into civilized society, would exhibit no such signs of moral detestation, it is sufficient to reply, that neither would he reason, nor intelligibly converse, nor, if brought suddenly from a life of total darkness into the presence of the sun, would he be able to see ; yet no one would think of denying on this account, either that the faculties of reason, speech, and sight, belong to the human constitution, or that there are no objective realities answering to them. 33. We affirm, also, that our moral approbation of an action arises previously to any calculation, or even thought, of its utility. That virtuous conduct does impart gratification, we acknowledge ; for He who made us for virtue, made us for hap- PROGRESSION. 147 piness also. But to say, with the advocates of the se!6sh system, that disinterested virtue is therefore impossible, is, as Butler has shown, to be blind to the important fact that self is not the im- mediate object of the benevolent affections. If the pleasure of benevolence is selfish, because it is felt by self, not only must reasoning be selfish, inasmuch as the reasoner is necessarily conscious of the process, but, on the sanie ground, the malevo- lent affections also must be selfish. The mistake consists in con- founding self, " as it is a subject of feeling and thought, with self considered as the object of either." We ask, then, with full confidence in the result of our appeal, whether, when we describe an action as right, we do not mean something more than that it is pleasurable or useful ? Is not the pleasure we have in a virtuous act previous to any gratifi- cation we may reap from the advantage of it ? Does not this very pleasure presuppose an instituted harmony between the mind and its object, or the existence of a moral constitution ? and are we not conscious that the more ardently we are set upon virtue for its own sake, the less we think of its enjoyment, and yet the greater our enjoyment is? May we not derive advantage from an act we do not admire, and admire an act from which we derive no advantage? Indeed, is not our admiration of an act of apparent virtue diminished in the exact proportion in which we see cause to suspect that there is a selfish end to answer by it ? and hence, is not our admiration of an act sometimes changed into detestation, though the ex- ternal benefits flowing from it remain the same ? And is it not true that moral education attains its highest end in the forma- tion of a character capable of the pure, the heroic, and the magnanimous, apart from all calculation of consequences ; and that all civilized languages contain epithets and phrases ex- pressive of disinterestedness and impulsive self-sacrifice ? 34. Thus, in our subjective inquiry respecting the faculty by which we become cognizant of virtue and vice, we have inci- dentally brought into view the principal answers to the objective question, What is the ground of virtue ? And we have found that each different theory of the foundation of rectitude gives us a different doctrine respecting the means by which we are supposed to recognize its existence. The remarks which fol- low are meant to illustrate, or to harmonize with, the view, that the moral quality of actions is taken cognizance of by an origi- nal susceptibility or independent faculty of the mind. Let it be premised, however, that whether conscience be a 148 MAN. distinct and simple faculty, or be resolvable into simpler and anterior faculties of our nature, is of little practical importance. All that is necessary to the prosecution of moral science is, the evidence that rectitude has an objective existence and character, and that man is endowed with the means necessary for placing him in harmonious subjective relation to it. Nor let it be sup- posed that we regard the mind as a collection of distinct mem- bers, or co-existent parts, resembling an organic structure. We view it as a substance simple and indivisible. And we so regard it, riot for the supposed simplicity of the view, for we profess that we do not see that the subject is simplified by exchanging parts for states, but because the contrary is incon- ceivable. And the mind, thus simple and indivisible, is capable of passing into different states, remembering, hoping, willing, approving, being so many distinct acts or states of the whole mind. 35. Among these capabilities, we regard the faculty of recog- nizing and responding to the moral quality of actions as a sep- arate one. Other faculties are psychologically preliminary to it, and its operation may presuppose, or else associate to itself, the operation of all the rest ; but this faculty itself we believe to be distinct and ultimate. We infer this, first, from an appeal to consciousness. On the one hand, there is no positive evi- dence to contravene our view ; on the other, the consciousness of obligation, and the emotion of approbation or disapprobation belonging to the operation of conscience, are so distinct from every other perception and aifection of which the mind is con- scious, as to defy analysis or explanation. Secondly, if, as we believe, the moral quality which conscience recognizes be sim- ple and ultimate, it may be' inferred, by analogy, that the coun- terpart faculty is distinct and ultimate also. And, thirdly, if, as we shall hereafter see, conscience is a faculty appointed to place us in relation to a distinct attribute of the Divine character, and to introduce us into a new stage of the Divine manifestation, we are furnished with strong presumptive evidence, at least, that it is uncompounded and ultimate. 36. What then is the function of this ultimate power? Not to legislate ; not even to supply information respecting the laws of the constitution into which man has come ; but to recognize and respond to the rectitude of these laws. To every part of this constitution man is so related, that, even apart from conscience, his every movement is (not innocent or guilty) but objectively right or wrong, accordant or discordant. He could not err re- PROGRESSION. 143 specting it, even involuntarily, without disadvantage ; nor culti- vate the right state of mind, even though ignorant that it is right, without advantage. But the lines of conduct which this constitution prescribes, he is competent to learn from his own experience of the course of nature, and from the word of God. Moreover, he is conscious of motives (I speak not of their ade- quacy) to pursue these lines of conduct the appetites, self- love, the benevolent affections, and gratitude and obedience to God motives answering to all the laws and objects included in this constitution. I can conceive, however, of a being capa- ble of all this, while yet destitute of what I understand by con- science. The constitution into which he has come is an expres- sion of the will of God, and as such it prescribes the rules of his conduct : and as a creature sentient, intelligent, and emo- tional, he may be able to trace them, and may be conscious of motives to comply with them. But the will of God itself of what is that an expression but of the immutable rectitude of which his Nature is the infinite residence ? Now it appears to be the function of conscience to place man in relation to that rectitude to enable him to recognize and respond to the moral quality of actions. As the will of God presupposes his holy nature of which it is the exponent, the motives which I have named presuppose, in every truly virtuous act, that conscious- ness of obligation on which virtue rests. As the will of God derives its imperativeness from something logically anterior, from his intrinsic excellence, so motives derive their highest authority from this consciousness of obligation. Every perception of ob- ligation, indeed, by acting impulsively on the will, is a motive ; but it is something more. Conscience is the ultimate term in man's moral nature, answering to the ultimate rectitude of the Divine nature. 37. What is the manner in which conscience operates in re- lation to the moral quality of actions ? We think its phenom- ena will be found to be threefold.* First, when a man is re- flecting on an action which, on some accounts, he hesitates to perform, conscience announces its presence by discriminating the moral quality of the action. His ground of hesitation to perform the act may be the labor, the time, or the self-denial, it may require, or its contrariety to the prevailing opinion or custom. But, fixing its eye on the moral quality of the act, conscience regards its rectitude alone, and tells him that it is * Wayland's Ethics, c. ii. 2. 13* 150 MAN. right. Or let us take the instant approbation of which we are conscious on witnessing the conduct of a dutiful child. But every emotion presupposes an intellectual perception or convic- tion as its immediate occasion. This approbation, therefore, implies a previous notion or perception ; and as it cannot be the perception of the mere external act, it must relate to the inherent Tightness of the child's conduct. 38. Secondly, with this discrimination of the moral quality of an action is inseparably allied a constraining or impulsive sense of obligation to perform it. This is the vo dsov, or the sense of that which we ought to do ; the notion of right involv- ing the feeling of duty. I am now speaking of conscience as that which has for its proper province our own conduct. But it is, I think, equally true of our estimate of the moral conduct of others, that our perception' of what is right for them to do is invariably accompanied by a feeling that they ought to do it ; and by a sense of obligation that, in the same circumstances, we should be bound to do it also. And as this sense of obligation acts impulsively, we rank it among the motives to action, though, unlike other motives, it acts imperatively, by a sense of inward constraint. Its motive power is felt when, coming into conflict with interest or passion, it bears them down, or is borne down by them ; and is implied in the fact that we are consid- ered to have sufficiently accounted for a moral act by affirming that we felt we ought to perform it. 39. Thirdly, supposing the action to be performed, there is in- separably allied with it a consciousness of self-approbation. If the action be performed by another, we are conscious of award- ing him our esteem, and silently pronounce him deserving of reward. On the contrary, if the impulse of conscience be dis- obeyed, the sentence of approbation is replaced by one of im- plied or of felt condemnation. The remorse, indeed, conse- quent on our own moral delinquency, includes elements not to be found in the estimate we form of similar delinquency in another, but the feeling of revulsion rests, in each instance, on essentially the same moral basis. And thus the discrimination of that which is right, is allied with the impulsive sense that it ought to be done, and this again is rewarded with a conscious- ness of pleasure, or punished with a consciousness of pain, according as it is done, or left undone. Or, reversing the order, it might be said, that a moral sentence presupposes an impulsive sense of moral obligation, and this again presupposes the capa- city of discriminating right. This view of conscience affirms a PROGRESSION. 151 moral determination, but without rejecting the exercise of the judgment respecting the object to which it should be applied ; a moral disposition, but without implying that it is imperative in the sense of irresistible ; and a moral susceptibility of pleasure and pain consequent on the conduct of the will in relation to that determination and disposition. 40. What is the manner in which conscience operates in relation to the different classes of the motives ? These we have said may be divided into instinctive desires, or such as have some outward thing for their object ; self-love, having a man's own happiness for its end, and for that purpose postponing and even refusing the gratification of the private desires ; the social affections ; and regard to the will of God. Now conscience itself, we have just remarked, in virtue of its discriminating office becomes impulsive. In the very act of saying what is right, it commands the performance of the right. Its impulsive power, indeed, by no means overbears any of the motives just named. It may oppose even the highest regard to a condi- tional command of God provided the sacrifice be that of a duty of mediate to one of primary and immediate obligation ; and it may unite with a motive of the lowest class with one of the appetites.* In the very act of arbitration, it adds its own motive-influence on the will to the influence of the motive which it pronounces to be right. 41. This leads to the inquiry, What is the manner of its operation in relation to the will ? We have said that in the act of discriminating between right and wrong, it operates im- pulsively or with the force of a motive ; and, of course, like every other motive, it operates on the will. But there is this important distinction between conscience, and the various classes of desires and affections, that while they do not terminate on the will, but require ulterior means for their gratification, the moral faculty looks not beyond the will ; finds its end in obtaining the consent of the will alone. With those, the consent of the will is only the first step to an end ; with this, it is the first and the last. It is the first ; for in prohibiting the rising desire of evil in the heart, its solemn formula, " thou shalt not," is addressed to the will : and it is the last ; for even if the prohibited desire prevail over the will, and become embodied in outward action, conscience takes cognizance of it, and employs its whip of scorpions, only as it is a voluntary action. Thus, "nothing * S. Matt. xii. 4 8. 152 MAN. stands between the moral sentiments and their object. They are, as it were, in contact with the will. It is this sort of mental position, if the expression may be pardoned, that ex- plains, or seems to explain, the characteristic properties which true philosophers ascribe to them, and which all reflecting men feel to belong to them."* Conscience regards the will as the prime mover of the man. Until the desires and affec- tions have become voluntary dispositions, responsibility, in the eye of conscience, does not begin. It stands, if we may say so, close to the will, and the objects on which it addresses the will are the emotions approaching the will, and those which owe their existence to the will. From which it follows that con- science itself has nothing in it of moral excellence. It takes the name of the moral faculty, not from its excellence, but from its office, in having to pronounce on moral qualities. 42. Can conscience be said to be universal in relation to the movements of the mind? Its contact with the will authorizes a reply in the affirmative. By contemplating those dispositions which depend on the will, its office embraces the whole charac- ter and conduct. For what dispositions have not, more or less, this character of dependence ? Emotions, indeed, are not vol- untary in themselves, but in their proximate cause they are so ; for that cause is the object of thought and attention, and over the attention the will is invested with a controlling power. So that even if the emotion of which the mind is just conscious, have not yet obtained the consent of the will, the will is respon- sible, in the eye of conscience, either if the emotion has arisen in consequence of some former object of attention, or if, now that it has arisen in the mind, the will consents to it by not call- ing for some object of thought, which, by awakening another emotion, would cause this to fade and disappear. The eye of conscience, therefore, ranges over all the interior of the charac- ter, nor, in the whole of the diversified prospect, does it behold anything morally indifferent. Theoretically, it is always "ac- cusing, or else excusing." Every thought as it is suggested, and every emotion as it is excited, was meant to draw on it the judicial eye of conscience. 43. And, for the same reason, its activity is supposed to be unintermitting. Even the operation of human law is seldom suspended. It draws a circle around us and our property, accompanies us in all our movements on the land, sails with us * Ethic Phil. p. 199. PROGRESSION. 158 on the deep, penetrates into all our relations and situations, holds us as in the grasp of an invisible hand. But the law of conscience is with us, literally, everywhere, and at all times. Our sleeping moments are not exempted from its jurisdiction, for he who sinks into the deepest slumber, sleeps with a purpose in his breast. Long time may have elapsed since he first formed it, for opportunity may not have served, or the time may not have arrived for carrying it into effect. But it was in the first moment of its formation that conscience took cognizance of it ; and never till it ceases to be a purpose, can conscience be said to withdraw its eye from it. Were he to die in sleep, that purpose would go with him to the bar of God. Meanwhile, though he sleep, his purpose remains in the balances of con- science. Never are they laid aside ; and so exquisitely are they adjusted, that the "light dust" of other balances is itself weighed here. 44. The view which we have taken of the moral faculty enables us to answer another question, What is the authority of conscience ? And we find that, besides being, by right, universal in its jurisdiction and unintermitting in its activity, its authority is supreme. We do not say that its supremacy consists in superseding the exercise of the intellectual powers in their own legitimate sphere. What that sphere is we have seen in the preceding sections on reflection and reason ; from which it would appear that they enable us to perceive those very relations which involve the obligations recognized by con- science. Neither do we say that its supremacy consists in abso- lutely dictating the manner in which the obligations resulting from our relations should be externally discharged ; this may be, and generally is, a subject for reflection. When, therefore, the prediction of our Lord, that the time would come when the ene- mies of the gospel would think that they did God service by destroying his followers, is quoted to show the fallibility of con- science as a guide, its office is misunderstood. Its province, in this instance, is, to recognize the obligation of doing God service, and to enforce it as superior to every other obligation. But both the perception of the relation to God out of which this obli- gation arises, and the manner of discharging it in this particular instance, fall within the province of the intellectual powers. Nor do we mean that its supremacy consists in superseding other motives, but rather in arbitrating between them, denounc- ing the wrong, and thus authenticating and corroborating the right. In this repcct, it not only fills an office which is unique, 154 MAN. but in the occupation of which it sways dejtire, an authoritative influence over all the other principles of action. 45. The supremacy of conscience, in the sense explained, may be illustrated by the following considerations: 1. That if the gratification of a man's appetites comes into collision with the dictates of conscience; and he yields to the solicitations of the. former, he afterwards feels mortified, and is degraded in his own eyes as well as in the eyes of others. If, for so doing, he should be designated, as is often the case, a sensualist, an ani- mal, or a beast, the meaning obviously is that he has acted as if the higher principle of action had been denied him. It is in vain for him to plead the greater strength of the inferior impulse. Who thinks of excusing the miser on the ground of the invinci- bleness of his habit ? The judgment we form evidently proceeds on the ground that the least whisper of conscience ought to have greater authority with us than the strongest impulse of any infe- rior principle. 2. That " its title is not impaired by any num- ber of defeats." Every defeat " disposes the disinterested and dispassionate by-stander to wish that its force were strengthened;" and he " rejoices at all accessions to its force." 3. That the supremacy of conscience is necessary to the well-being of man. Whether we suppose the end for which man is made, to be the attainment of the greatest amount of holiness, of happiness, or of power or all combined either as an individual or as a society it will be found to be gained in proportion to the de- gree in which conscience restrains the various classes of motives within their appropriate limits. Even the passions themselves are gainers by submitting their activity to the regulation of con- science. We say nothing of the power which conscience displays under particular circumstances of the unquailing fidelity with which it will sometimes take the arrow which was discharged at a venture, and compel the sinner to press it into his own breast ; of the oracular and prophetic manner in which it menaces him on his way to some guilty deed, turning him back, time after time, and making him flee at the rustling of a leaf; how, at length, when the deed has been perpetrated, it recovers from the stunning effects of the blow, in the character of an avenger, and refuses again to be silent, clothing every man who looks at him with the character of a prophet, who seems to say, " Thou art the man !" and inscribing every wall on which his eye may rest with a handwriting which tells his doom ; how, when, by a course of guilt, it has been gradually drugged to stupefaction, no care can prevent it from occasionally starting and glaring with PROGRESSION. 155 a look which tells of suspended vengeance ; how it sometimes urges the culprit to surrender himself to human law ; pronounc- ing its own verdict so quickly as to anticipate all other judg- ments, so distinctly as to be heard above the tempest of the passions, and so solemnly as to be remembered after every other voice is hushed. We will only advert to what may be regarded as a literary illustration of the authority of conscience the fact that if a writer be forcible on any subject it is on this ; and that the most vigorous passages and striking imagery of writers sacred and profane will be found to relate to subjects which involve the office of conscience. Reminding us of the language of Butler itself, indeed, an illustration of our remark "had it strength as it has right, had it power as it has manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world." 46. The last condition implied in our general proposition is that the moral faculty should be of a nature to affect the will without compelling it. That it does not bear down the will, but may itself be overborne, we have given many and fearful intimations. And some have made this a ground of objection ; for if a man chooses to violate it, and to suffer the pain, then, says Paley, "the moral instinct has nothing more to offer." But to infer that conscience is useless, because it is not irresist- ible, or, that there is no conscience, because it is not invincible, does not oppress the will, and make man incapable of virtue, by turning him into a machine, is to mistake the nature and office of conscience. 47. True it is, that by leaving man capable of voluntary ac- tion, an inlet is left for sin, and that sin, having entered, con- science itself has been involved in the perverting effects of the fall. But its office is not extinguished, nor has its activity ceased : its relative position among the other faculties is what it ever was. Its original design and tendency are obvious, whatever its subsequent aberrations may have been. As But- ler justly remarks, "the body may be impaired by sickness, the tree may decay, a machine be out of order, and yet the sys- tem and constitution of them not totally dissolved. Every work of art is apt to be out of order, but this is so far from being ac- cording to its system, that, let the disorder increase, and it will totally destroy it. There is plainly something which answers to all this hi the moral constitution of man." Man, indeed, is not only " apt to be out of order," he is out of order. But his moral derangement is functional, not organic. And even where, 156 MAN. de .facto, his conscience is at present silenced, de jure, it is an arbitrator and an oracle still. Every appeal to it from without, whether from God or man, presupposes its official existence. In the very act of reproaching it, the Scriptures imply its power of response. The fact that conscience is, by right, a law uni- versally binding, and yet a law capable of being every moment violated, is precisely that which renders man capable of moral action. And thus the conditions of our general proposition are satis- fied. Man, introduced into a system of objective moral excel- lence, is found capable of a consciousness of obligation in every instance in which he has the means of subserving the system. He is thus both a manifestation of the Divine character of God, and is justly held accountable for voluntarily harmonizing with the Divine procedure.* SECT. VIII. Language and Testimony ; or, a Second Human Mind. 1. If man is, as we have seen, destined to be the intelligent interpreter of the Divine manifestation, and if that manifesta- tion is to be unlimited, it may be expected that every variety of means will be employed, consistent with other things, for in- terpreting the manifestation, for the greater this variety, the more enlarged will be the view which man will require of the Divine perfection displayed. If, then, to a single intelligent human being destined to this high end, a second be added provided each be able to com- pare his views with, and add his convictions to, those of the other the means of knowledge possessed by each will be more than doubled. Now we have reached that part of the history of man in which we have seen a second human being called into existence. Here, then, is another intelligent and moral being, whose mind, according to its measure of development, interprets the visible universe, and holds responsible relations with the invisible. May it not be expected, then, that man will be endowed with the power of learning more from his intelligent fellow-man than from any other object of external nature ? In other words, that a community of knowledge will be possible ? 2. But how shall this great desideratum be attained ? Two * See also Chapters XI. and XII. PROGRESSION. 157 things, at least are indispensable that they possess the means of interchanging their thoughts and feelings, and that the thoughts and feelings imparted carry with them satisfactory evidence of their credibility. 3. The first condition the means of interchanging thoughts and feelings the Creator has provided for by the intervention of articulate sounds, or speech. But speech, in order that it may answer this important end, will be found to include the following things : First, the utterance of sounds. And, in so far, as Locke has remarked, the materials of language pre-existed in Nature. 4. But, secondly, these sounds must be articulate. And this, of course, supposes that man possessed, from the first, the fac- ulty of speech, or an organization adapted to produce articulate sounds. 5. But, thirdly, if there were nothing more than sounds, even articulate sounds, there would still be nothing more than the means of signs : the signs themselves would be wanting. Be- tween the mere sound and the sign there is a gulf which mind alone can span or fill up. The sounds can become signs only on this condition, that the mind supply something to be signi- fied, and employ articulate sound, in order to signify it. Birds can be taught, remarks Locke, " to make articulate sounds dis- tinct enough, which yet by no means are capable of language. Besides articulate sounds, therefore, it was further necessary that man should be able to use these sounds as signs of internal conceptions, and to make them stand as marks for the ideas in his own mind."* Or, in the language of W. Humboldt,t " the intention and the capacity of expressing something thought is the only thing which characterizes the articulate sound, and which distinguishes it from the animal cry on the one hand, and from the musical tone on the other." Thoughts are not the creatures of sounds, but articulate sounds presuppose thoughts. 6. Fourthly, if language is to be an adequate instrument of the human mind, its form must correspond with the leading powers of the mind, or with the universal laws of thought. There are, indeed, numerous vague and general signs in nature, expressive of mere feelings, which are older than speech. Such * B.HL c. i. H 1,2. t On the Kawi Language on the Island of Java, etc., Vol. I. p. 83, of the Introd. on the Diversity of the Organization of Human Languages, Berlin, 1836. 14 158 MAN. are animal cries and sounds, and such the motions of the body, and of every partoi the body. But even if man possessed all these, and possessed them in perfection, he could do little more than express, in a very indefinite manner, some of his sensa- tions and desires ; whereas, language, besides expressing all that can be indicated by such corporeal signs, must possess, in order to be a suitable vehicle for the mind, the peculiar power of con- veying from one mind to another, thoughts which have only a mental existence, as well as the order of sequence in which they stand to each other. Accordingly it is found to answer this end. Probably, some of the first sounds which man uttered were de- scriptive of sensible objects ; when his Maker called his vocal powers into activity, by bringing to him " the living creatures, to see what he would call them." Corresponding to other ob- jects which are not sensible ideal objects and invisible reali- ties he has universal terms, and words which have been ap- propriated to the special use of the reason by their abstraction from all alliance with sensible objects, or by denoting the nega- tion of material qualities and sensible objects. But all the ob- jects stand in different relations to him and to each other. Ac- cordingly, his " language is not a simple collection of isolated words ; it is a system of the manifold relations of words to each other. These different relations are all referable to invariable relations, to universal grammar, which has its necessary laws derived from the very nature of the human mind."* Now, nouns and verbs, the names of objects, and their diversified re- lations to each other and to the human mind, lie at the basis of all grammar. Everything to which a name is given is distin- guishable by number and gender. By avoiding the repetition of the noun substantive in a sentence, the pronoun is given us ; by naming the quality or appearance which distinguishes one thing from another of a like kind, we have the noun adjective ; the degrees of comparison arise from marking the measure of intensity belonging to these qualities themselves ; and the prep- osition denotes the order and the place of a thing in relation to something else. As the action by which a thing is connected with ourselves or with other things denoted by the verb, admits of modification, it gives rise to the adverb ; the tense denotes the time in which the action takes place ; as every action is done or suffered, supposes an agent or patient, the distinction is express- ed by the active and the passive voice ; while the mode of ex- # Cousin's Psychology, c. v. PROGRESSION. 159 pressing an action, according as it is, as it may be, must be, and might be, as it is wished to be, commanded to be, and ought to be, varies according to its relation to the different faculties and operations of the mind. In this simple but mysterious manner, speech becomes the exponent of mind, the objective lends itself to the subjective, and faithfully expresses its most subtle and complicated operations. 7. But, fifthly, all this only describes the requisites of lan- guage for the individual man, or for a solitary man speaking " to the air." Whether language is necessary for the individu- al mind as a means of thought, we stop not now to inquire : that words logically presuppose the thoughts and the classifica- tions which they express, is as evident on the one hand, as the historical truth on the other, that the mind thinks chiefly through the medium of language. In order, however, that language may serve as a means of communication, it is evident that the mind of each individual must be similarly constituted, so that each may be similarly affected by external objects. In a former section we showed, that in order that God might im- part his mind to the individual man through the intervention of the symbols of external nature, it was obviously necessary that each symbol should mean the same for man and for God. Equally clear is it that external objects must mean substantially the same thing for the two human minds ; for there could not otherwise be a common understanding as to the name to be given to a thing, and knowledge, as it relates to external nature, would be impossible. True it is that the perfection of the ad- justment existing between the subjective and the objective in the case of each individual, and which we considered in our section on Sensational Perception, is so delicate, that no object, probably, will ever affect two persons alike absolutely, and in every respect ; probably, even the same individual will never derive from the same object two sensations perfectly alike. But this inappreciable difference in the impressions make by the same objects on two minds will be owing to the very per- fection of the adjustment in each case between the world with- in and the world without. For as each will view every object from a somewhat different point, in a slightly different manner, and with an organ or instrument slightly different from that of the other, a corresponding difference in the sensation must be the result. But while the very possibility of individual knowledge implies, on the one hand, this distinctive perfection of sensation for each, the possibility of mutual knowledge, and 160 MAN. of language as the means of it, takes it for granted, on the other, that this difference of sensation is restricted to narrow limits, and the actual existence of language demonstrates the fact demonstrates that the necessary mental agreement exists. 8. But, sixthly, besides this similarity in the sensation de- rived by each from the objects described, the words employed must convey to the hearer the same thoughts and impressions as those which prompt the speaker to utter them. For retain- ing kno wedge, any dots or strokes, or notations, may suffice : but for imparting it, the primary condition is, that the signs employed be common to speaker and hearer. They are then standing in the place of things of things which (it is to be remem- bered, as far as external nature is concerned) are themselves signs of other things of God's symbolic language addressed to man. For the very same reason, therefore, for which these external symbols of the Divine mind must mean the same for the two human minds, their verbal signs of that symbolic mean- ing must denote the same for each. If, for example, the crea- tion of a world is the Maker's mode of saying symbolically to a man " I am mighty," that man cannot impart his conviction of this truth to a fellow man, unless they have a mutual under- standing respecting the meaning of the terms, I, and world, and mighty, relative to which the symbolic meaning was conveyed. The words of a language, then, must produce in the hearer the counterpart of the mental state which leads the speaker to utter them. As truth in sentiment is the accordance of our conceptions and apprehensions with their objects, so Truth in language is the agreement of the words or signs by which we express our conception with the conceptions themselves. 9. And, seventhly, in order that the words of which a lan- guage is composed may serve as a means of knowledge, their meaning, both separately considered, and in the order of their collocation, must be understood to be fixed ; or their meaning must not be altered in any respect, except by mutual under- standing. That external nature presents itself to the senses with the regularity of law, we have repeatedly shown. And in order that this uniformity might be known, equally necessary is it (as we have seen in the section on Sensation) that the mind should act with corresponding regularity. But if this be necessary for the knowledge of the first individual, equally im- portant is it for the knowledge of a second that the words in which that knowledge is conveyed should maintain a corres- PROGRESSION. 161 ponding regularity. An unexpected and unperceived change in the symbolic uniformity of nature would not be more detri- mental to the knowledge of the first than an unperceived change in the verbal uniformity of language would be to the knowledge of the second. The only way in which the evil attending the change could be obviated would be, by effecting it by a mutual understanding. Only let this condition be com- plied with, and kept in mind, and the parties might safely, as far as their knowledge of each other's meaning is concerned, " call sweet bitter, and bitter sweet." 10. This representation awakens an inquiry, which leads to the second part of the section, on the Credibility of Testimony. For suppose that one party should report of a thing that it is bitter when it is sweet, without warning the other of the changed meaning he wished him to attach to the term ; or suppose he should affirm that he had seen or heard that which he had not, here would be a violation of verbal or conventional truth, which, unless the evil can be adequately guarded against, may be re- peated until language, so far from increasing the knowledge of one, by adding to it the knowledge of another, may only serve to cast discredit on every means of knowledge. In order, then, that language or testimony may be a means of knowledge, in a world in which falsehood is possible, two things, at least, are indispensable ; the credibility of the testimony must be ascer- tainable, and, being ascertained, the mind must be so constituted as to believe it. 11. A brief analysis of this subject presents us with the fol- owing particulars : First, that our belief in testimony is to be resolved ultimately into that law of the mind which affirms that ?very phenomenon must have a cause. To resolve it, as is generally done, into our faith in the unfailing constancy of na- ture, is to stop short of an ultimate fact ; for our faith in this very constancy is itself resolvable into the prior principle, that every event must have a cause. This prior principle, however, admits of no simplification, no analysis ; it is ultimate. 12. Secondly, that flowing from this as an irresistible but secondary belief is the conviction, that the same cause will uni- formly produce the same effect. But if this act of the mind be the natural result of the prior act, the truth of its information is equally to be relied on with the information of that act ; and just because that prior belief is to be relied on, inasmuch as the operations of nature are uniform. 13. Thirdly, that as man becomes acquainted with this uni- 14* 162 MAN. formity of operation, primarily, through the medium of the senses, it follows that the senses themselves are governed by laws which are uniform in their operation. How, otherwise, could we know anything of the uniformity of nature ? And the reasonableness of this proposition is obvious ; for as the opera- tions of nature, taken as a whole, are uniform, and as the senses themselves are parts of that whole, the regularity of the whole presupposes a corresponding regularity in all its parts, and, therefore, in the evidence of the senses. 14. Fourthly, that if the uniformity of operation in the ex- ternal world presupposes a corresponding regularity in the laws which determine the evidence of the senses, this regularity again equally presupposes a corresponding uniformity in the testimony of those who report it; otherwise the experience of each would exist in vain for all the rest, and the union and progress of mankind would be impossible. Now that this par- ticular kind of testimony exists is evident, since it is from tes- timony, chiefly, that we derive our proof of the constancy of nature. In other words, there is an evidence of the senses as unvarying as the course of nature itself; and there is an evi- dence of -testimony as unvarying as that of the senses; and the unvarying character of both of these classes of evidence is to be accounted for in the same simple way that they form a part of the unvarying constitution of nature itself, and are sim- ply the expression of its lUws ; so that if their certainty were to fail, the failure would impeach nature itself of uncertainty and caprice. 15. Fifthly, that this evidence of the truth of testimony is ascertainable ; for, if the uniformity of the external world pre- supposes a corresponding regularity in the evidence of the senses, and if their regularity equally presupposes a similar fidelity in the testimony of those who report it, this threefold regularity again equally presupposes, or rather presupposes with a threefold ground of certainty, that this testimony is dis- tinguished by characteristics which make it certainly ascertain- able ; otherwise, the laws which determine the constancy of the external world, of the evidence of the senses, and of testimony, would all exist in vain. But the marks of credible testimony are as certain as the laws of nature, simply because they are the expressions of some of these very laws. 16. Sixthly, that this evidence of credible testimony is capa- ble of increase to any amount. The admission that there is a kind of testimony worthy of some degree of credit, involves the PROGRESSION. 163 consequence that that kind of testimony, multiplied indefinitely, would command the highest degree of belief of anything to which it might testify. Hume himself, indeed, admits, that some kinds of probable evidence are as convincing as demon- stration. 17. And, seventhly, that the mind is constituted to believe the evidence of certain kinds of testimony. This appears from the fact that the evidence in question is denominated credible ; and that it is to the spontaneous belief of it, chiefly, that we are indebted for our knowledge of the uniform operations of nature, as well as for our power of conducting the affairs of social and civil life. From all which it follows, first, that this evidence of x testimony is calculated to produce belief, just because the laws of nature are constant in their operation ; and, secondly, that not to believe such evidence would be, not only to believe some- thing else, and to believe it without evidence, but contrary to all evidence. 18. But what was the origin of language ? and what the primitive language of mankind ? Respecting the first question, it might be premised that if a person, not acquainted with the history of the subject, were to tax his ingenuity to the utmost in imagining all the possible modes of accounting for the origin of language not shrink- ing from the most extravagant and absurd his fancy could de- vise the diversified, baseless, and absurd theories which have been gravely propounded by learning and philosophy, would yet eclipse his wildest conjectures. Lord Monboddo, Volney, Maupertuis, and others, represent man as originally without speech a mere " mutum ac turpe pecus " beginning with the inarticulate cries " by which animals call upon one another ; " the last-named writer supposing that when separate dialects were formed, a language was constructed "by a session of learned societies convened for the purpose." Dr. A. Smith supposes that the invention of language began with substan- tives ; Herder is in favor of interjections ; Dr. Murray makes the syllable Ag the foundation of, at least, the Indo-European tongues ; while Rousseau proposes the problem, " Whether a society already formed was more necessary for the institution of language, or a language already invented for the establish- ment of society ? " 19. That man had originally to acquire even the capacity for speech this is the first or lowest notion respecting the origin of language. It will, however, be time enough to point out the 164 MAN. inconsiderate folly of this view when anything rational has been advanced in its behalf. 20. That man was primarily endowed with the organic ca- pacity for speech, though not to any degree with the actual knowledge of language this may be regarded as the second hypothesis on the subject. " Speech," says Humboldt, " accord- ing to my fullest conviction, must really be considered as in- herent in man ; since, as the work of his intellect in its simple knowledge, it is absolutely inexplicable. This hypothesis is facilitated by supposing thousands and thousands of years; language could not have been invented without its type pre- existing in man." Still, he considers language as evolved en- tirely from himself. Now to this idea of the absolute origina- tion of language by a being merely preconfigured to employ it, it is obvious to object, first, that if mankind had not been pre- viously endowed with " a natural language, they could never have invented an artificial one by their reason and ingenuity." * Secondly, that no tribe has ever been known to emerge from barbarism, except by civilizing influences from without. And, thirdly, that the uniform tendency of an uncivilized tribe, left to itself, is to sink lower in the scale of brutish degrada- tion. 21. That man was originally endowed, not merely with the capacity for speech, but, to a certain extent, with the actual and intelligent use of language this is the third theory, and most in harmony with the reason of the case, and with the brief intimations of Scripture on the subject. If to this view it be objected, that " the history of many languages shows a gradual progress from small beginnings to a more perfect state," we reply that this is perfectly compatible (admitting it to be true) with the idea that a scanty language was bestowed on man in the first stage of his existence. .If it be further objected, that " the radical words of a language are clearly referable to the source whence our first ideas are derived namely, natural and external objects," we reply that this also is quite compatible with the theory that a certain amount of language was originally taught by God ; for it is to be supposed that it would be all derived from obvious sources, and be employed analogically. If it should still be urged, that the communication of a mature power, such as that which the theory supposes, is quite incon- ceivable, we reply that the creation of a man with immature * Reid's Inquiry, c., c. iv., 2. PROGRESSION. 165 powers is not more conceivable. The great miracle is the cre- ation of man at all. That admitted, the admission that he was literally endowed with the power of speaking from the first, appears to be as natural as that he could literally walk. It by no means follows that his language at first was copious. The probability is that the words Divinely taught were those only which denoted the objects most important for man to know, together with his most urgent wants, and with certain leading ideas and emotions. From these, as from a prolific root, the tree of language gradually developed and branched off in every direction, according to the laws of the human mind. 22. In strict accordance with this view, almost every new explorer in comparative language returns with some additional Eroof of the original unity of language, whereas, had it been jft absolutely to man's origination, the probability is that almost every family would have had its own language. Fur- ther, the fact that man had a real and adequate language im- mediately after his creation seems to be implied and com- memorated in the existence of a dual number in some of the earliest tongues. A single human pair would have occasion for a form of expression denoting duality ; whereas, when society became complex, such a form would be likely to be superseded by the plural numbers; and accordingly it had disappeared even so early as the Latin language. But, chiefly, in authenti- cation of this view, the Biblical account represents the first man as actually using language immediately on his creation ; not only giving names to objects, but in the instance of Eve, assigning reasons for the names given, hi calling her, first, woman, and afterwards JBve, reasons having no connection what- ever, with the sounds of the words or with any sounds in na- ture. 23. Our second question relates to the particular language originally spoken by man. Up to the close of the last century, phUologers were occupied, chiefly, in aiming to determine the relative antiquity of languages, and in a fruitless search after the primeval tongue. The low Dutch, the Chinese, the Celtic, and the Biscayan, have each found learned advocates claiming for it the honor of having been the language spoken hi Para- dise. And even when the suffrages of the learned determined in favor of a Semitic language, the Abyssinian and the Syrian disputed the honor with the Hebrew. The most probable con- clusion is that the primary language was one from which the Semitic or Syro- Arabian family of languages has sprung ; and 166 MAN. one, therefore, not now actually in existence, except as vari- ously represented by the different members of this family. It is by no means unlikely that the Hebrew retains many of the identical vocables uttered by the first man, especially of the names of objects. Beyond this, all is conjecture ; and even in this respect, the Hebrew cannot be supposed to enjoy a mo- nopoly of the distinction. 24 " So God created man in his own image ; in the image of God created He him, male and female created He them." And such was the mysterious and manifold constitution of the being to whom and by whom the perfections of the Deity were to be set forth. Some, indeed, have spoken of his knowledge, holiness, and actual powers, while in Eden, in terms of eulogy appropriate only to " the second Adam, the Lord from heaven." But to claim for new-made man a kind and degree of excel- lence which would have almost made progress impossible by placing him already at the goal,* is to err as egregiously in one extreme, as they err on the other, who represent barbarism as man's original state, or even a state of mere animal sensibility. The view which we are able to take of man's constitution at this distance of time from his creation, and which we have endeavored to give, is the result of ages of development. How much more rapidly the process of development would have proceeded in the hypothetical case of his having remained un- fallen, we can only conjecture. That the first man only be- came gradually conscious of his capabilities, that he only potentially answered to the description given in the sections of this chapter, must, I think, be admitted by every one who duly considers the subject. Like the language of which we believe him to have been made the recipient rudimental and sugges- tive his early consciousness disclosed only so much of his intellectual and moral capabilities as was necessary to quicken his activity, and to justify the responsibility of his new and grave position. SECT. IX. Man's Primitive Condition. From man's constitution, we pass to a survey of his primi- tive condition. His nature, we have seen, was a sublime novelty in creation. Did his circumstances exhibit corresponding pro- * As Dr. South does, for example, in the beautiful and oft-quoted, but purely imaginary passage on this subject, in his Sermon on Man created in the image of God. PROGRESSION. 167 gression? The great miracle of the introduction of such a subject prepares us to expect that all the objective arrange- ments necessary for his development and well-being will be found to await and to attend him. 1. Here, our attention is due, first, to the selected and pre- pared abode which awaited man. "And Jehovah Elohim planted a garden in Eden, on the East, and placed there the man whom he had formed. And Jehovah Elohim caused to grow out of the gound there every tree pleasant to the sight and good for eating And Jehovah Elohim took the man, and placed him in the Garden of Eden, to cultivate it and to keep it And Jehovah Elohim formed out of the ground every beast of the field and every fowl of the heaven ; and He brought [eachj unto the man to see what he would call it, and whatever the man called any living creature, that was its name Elohim blessed them, and Elohim said, * Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over every living creature that moveth upon the earth.' " * But were any of these species now absolutely originated for the first time ? or were they all reproductions of pre-existing species ? or, were some of them reproductions, and the remainder newly originated species ? It will never be possible, perhaps, to return categori- cal answers to these inquiries. The probability is that most of the species useful to man co-existed at a period antecedent to his creation, with mammalia long ago extinct, f But man's true distinction, and his well-being, depended not on the Divine crea- tion of new species immediately prior to his appearance. The tribes of animal and vegetable life which actually subserve his interests, were not the less designed to do him service because the primary origination of many of them may have preceded his own by an unmeasured period ; rather, that period implied the importance of the being whose coming was so long antici- pated. 2. That which truly marks the progress of the great scheme, is the special provision made by the Divine Creator for the security, instruction, and well-being of the new-made man. According to the inspired record just quoted, pre-existing nature was now raised to new relations, and was promoted to offices unknown before. As if Eden itself were not sufficiently * Gen. ii. 8, 9, 15, 19; i. 28. t Owen's Ecports to Brit. Assoc. 1842, 1843; and Introd. to Brit. Foss. Mamni. p. 31. 168 MAN. paradisiacal, a particular part of it was selected, and especially prepared for man's reception. Here, that he might neither starve through hesitation respecting what he might safely partake, nor perish through making a wrong selection, he was surrounded by such fruit-bearing trees as were both grateful to the senses and good for food. His muscular and mental system required activity; and, that he might not expend it in vain, he is shown how the ground invites, and will repay, his easy cultivation, developing new properties at his touch ; each flower owning his care by an added perfume, and each fruit by assuming a richer bloom and a more exquisite flavor. He is endowed with powers of observation and reflection ; and the animals* are brought into his presence to disclose their charac- teristics under his eye, and to receive appropriate names from his lips. To awaken him to a consciousness of his supremacy, he is apprized that aU the creatures are subject to his will. The whole was arranged to disclose him to himself. Nature was moved at his coming ; and so moved as to reveal to him his power, by its own ready subordination to his will; his aptitude for knowledge, by giving up its secrets to his obser- vation ; and his capacity for enjoyment, by reflecting his own looks of gladness. 3. But all this supposes, secondly, the presence and the ac- tual superintendence of a Divine instructor. To assume either that man was not originally an immediate creation of God, or that, having been created, he was then abandoned by his Maker to his own unaided efforts, involves a complication of extrava- gances which only the enormous credulity of scepticism could entertain. Even if geology supplied no evidence of man's recent introduction on the earth if histoiy afforded no proof that man has never been known to emerge from barbarism, except by aid from withoutf if astronomy had never asked for a primary impulse, in order to account for the motions of the * Such, probably, as were suited for domestication ; just as the trees of the garden were such as were pleasant to the eye and good for food. There is no reason for supposing that any of the carnivora were present. t " The most conclusive argument against the original civilization of mankind," says the author of the Vestiges, " is to be found in the fact that we do not now see civilization existing anywhere except in certain con- ditions altogether different from any we can suppose to have existed at the commencement of our race." But, first, do we find civilization inva- riably resulting from these said conditions ? For, if not, something more than these conditions is necessary to account for it. And, secondly, as the continuance of the race is a process requiring peculiar conditions FR OGRE SSI ON. 169 solar system, the reason of the case would yet have required the hypothesis, that, whenever man commenced his career, the hand that formed him was not withdrawn till his faculties had received an impulse in the right direction. Hence, Herder scouts the idea of " every wretched wanderer having in some way, discovered his system of worship as a kind of natural theology," and " places at the head of all history an original and higher state of cultivation in man, proceeding from God." The " customary plan of beginning the history of religion, or of society, with the savage state," is equally rejected by Cousin* as unphilosophical. " Does it not seem," asks J. von Muller, " as though the breath of Divinity dwelling in us, our spirit had acquired, through the immediate teaching of a higher being, and for a long time retained, certain indispensable ideas and habits, to which it could not easily have attained of itself?" F. Schlegel, too, " strikingly shows the necessity of admitting the original teaching of the human race by the spirit of God." " The original state of man," says the distinguished antiquary, Ouverof, " is neither the savage state, nor a state of corruptness, but a simple and better state approaching nearer to the Divinity." And the universal tradition of the ancient world (accepted by Plato) told of man's divine education at the commencement of his earthly course. 4. This plain dictate of reason the Bible satisfies. " Who then educated the first human pair ?" asks the elder Fichte, in a burst of common sense too strong for the bonds of an infidel philosophy. " A spirit bestowed its care upon them, as is laid down in an ancient and venerable original record, which, taken altogether, contains the profoundest and the loftiest wisdom, and presents those results to which all philosophy must at last return."f To object that such Divine tuition is entirely unknown, at present, to the course of nature, is to forget that man is no longer produced by miracle ; and that a first man is possible might not " the commencement of the race " have required conditions peculiar also conditions which have never since been supplied because never since necessary ? If, to nse his own language, " man started at first with this peculiar organization [of speech] ready for use," it is pre- suming but little if we suppose that certain words were supplied to this unique organization. The grand instrument having been bestowed, a lesson on its use, and compass, and power, seems only appropriate. * Introduction to Hist, of Phil., Lect. 2. For the other authorities re- ferred to, see Prof. Tholuck, Bib. Cabinet, Vol. XXVIII. Appendix. t Quoted by Dr. J. P. Smith in Bib. Cyclo. Art. ADAM. 15 170 MAN. but once. To dispute respecting the particular mode in which the tuition in question was imparted and made available, is only a contention about words. All that we seek is an escape from the revolting contradiction of supposing that man was created and left a semi-brute ; that with fewer and feebler instincts than other animals, he should also have been left without instruction ; that he, the heir of the world, should have been left unapprized of, and unqualified for, his inheritance ; that a constant miracle for his protection and support should have been made necessaiy, in order to avoid the transient one of his primary instruction. And the Bible, we repeat, meets this demand of our reason. It affirms, in effect, that man's first exercises were those of a man, and not of a child. By the Creator's wisdom, a circle of se- lected objects is prepared, and man is no sooner transferred into the centre than his senses and faculties are put into adult activity, each responding to its appropriate object. The vol- ume of creation is now first opened at a chosen page to man's intelligent eye, and the Divine author himself condescends to interpret for him some of its earliest lessons. 5. Thirdly, besides the collection of assorted objects into the midst of which man was introduced, another being, constituted like himself, was brought near to him, and placed, by the mys- terious medium of speech, in the most intimate communication with him. When the living creatures were brought into the presence of Adam, how little would he have found in them all with which it would have been desirable for him to sympathize, even had he been enabled to interpret all their sounds, and to understand all their unsignified sensations and instincts ! How much was there in him all the nobler parts of his nature with which there was nothing whatever in them to correspond ! So far was he in advance of all pre-existing natures, that crea- tion contained for him " no help-meet." " And Jehovah God said, It is not good for man to be alone, I will make for him a help suitable for him."* And in the production of a second human being, an addition was made to man's means of im- provement, greater, in some respects, than as if the number of his own senses and faculties had been doubled. For even if increase of knowledge had been the only end to be answered by the arrangement, by placing those added organs and powers as a distinct and independent means of knowledge, at the dis- posal of a second human being, the two can be in different places * Gen. ii. 18, 20. PBOGKESSION. 171 at the same moment, and be employed in a differeut manner, and yet each can enjoy the acquisitions of the other. Each can learn more from the other than from all creation besides ; for not only is the mind of one a compendium of creation for the other a speculum in which that outer world is reflected for him in the constitution and operations of that mind itself an object of contemplation is prepared for him, richer in the materials of thought than all the physical universe. Each can learn more from the other than as if a second world had been created instead, and had been brought within the reach of his senses. In the case of the first mind, the truth of its impressions from without depended on the continued perfection of the adjustment existing between the subjective and the objective. But in the event of that adjustment being in any respect disturbed, what standard had the man by which to test the truth of his impres- sions ? The addition of a second mind tended to supply the want. Every look was symbolic. Every tone touched a hid- den sympathy. Every word was calculated to be a preservative from error, a corroboration of knowledge, or an incitement to the attainment of further knowledge. The advent of a fellow- mind lifted man consciously above the level of mere nature, and was the true signal for the subjection of nature. It was the preternatural, preparing him more effectually for communion with the supernatural. It was at once the sign of progress, and the means of advancement for all the future. 6. Now also, fourthly, the institution of the sabbath awaited man. For " God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it, because thereon he rested from all his work which God had created and made." This is the historical record of the act of institution. By some, indeed, it is contended that the sabbath was first given to the Israelites in the wilderness ; because no mention is made of it in the histories of the patriarchs.* But to this it may be replied, first, that the objection rests only on negative evidence ; that the writings referred to are not a his- tory, but brief, fragmentary records, embracing twenty-five cen- turies in a few chapters ; and that similar omissions can be pointed out in subsequent parts of Scripture-history from which yet no one thinks of drawing a similar inference. For example, * So Paley in his Mor. Phil., chap, on the Sabbath. For a full exposi- tion of the arguments on both sides, see Ikenius. Diss. de Instt, etc. Mo- saicae Legis, xi. 172 MAN. in the account of the four or live hundred years from Joshua to David there is not the remotest allusion to the sabbath ; no mention is made from the birth of Seth till the flood (a period of, at least, fifteen hundred years) of sacrifice ; and during the eight hundred years from Joshua to Jeremiah, the rite of cir- cumcision is not named. But, secondly, we deny the truth of the statement itself. The division of time into weeks is re- ferred to repeatedly during the period in question ;* and what is remarkable, although it is not a natural division, like that of day and night, made by the revolution of the earth on its axis ; or of the year and its seasons, made by the revolution of the earth round the sun ; or of the month, occasioned by the revo- lution of the moon ; yet nations the most dissimilar and remote are found to have observed it from the earliest antiquity a fact which can be explained only on the supposition of some weekly institution coeval with our race. Thirdly, that the sabbath was not instituted, but only restored, in the wilderness, appears from the fact, that even prior to the promulgation of the law on Sinai, the people spontaneously gathered a double quantity of manna on the sixth day ; that Moses notices the sabbath on that occasion only incidentally, rendering no ex- planation of its nature, and no reason for its observance, as if both were too well known to make it necessary. Fourthly, the consecration of the sabbath was enjoined on Sinai in connection with laws all of which were as old as human nature ; leaving it to be inferred that the law of the sabbath was of equal antiquity. A fifth reason, of peculiar cogency to an unbiassed mind, is de- rivable from the fact that the law of the sabbath occurs first in the history of the Adamic creation. The only natural inference is that it was instituted at that time. And then, sixthly, the reason assigned for the sabbath the completion of creation began to be in force at the period of that completion, and not two or three thousand years afterwards ;f nor was the fact which this first-born of ordinances commemorated interesting to the Jew only, but to man ; nor were the advantages which it pro- posed to secure needed by the Jew only; the race required them. " The sabbath was made for man," said the Lord of the * Gen. vii. 410; viii. 1012; xxix. 27, 28; 1. 10. Job ii. 13. Ex. vii. 25. t " And what sense were it to read the command thus : ' For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, &c., and rested the seventh : there- fore, two thousand five Imndred and thirteen years after, he blessed the seventh day and hallowed it.' " Lightfoot's Works, vol. vii. p. 385. PROGRESSION. 173 sabbath ; implying that the making of the sabbath was coeval with man's creation. On these grounds we believe in a primeval sabbath. He who had made man's complex constitution, knew that a sabbath was one of the necessities of his nature. He who had prepared for him the solace of a fellow mind ; and who even admitted him to the hallowing influence of communion with Himself, knew that, by a law of his own implanting in human nature, that communion would become more assimilating by recurring at stated intervals, and therefore He appointed a stated season of special intercourse. Man is made for great occasions, and must have them in prospect ; and therefore, in addition to his daily worship, the sabbath promised him the return of peculiar joy. Probably, too, a place was set apart for the Divine man- ifestation the shadow of the tree of life or a spot where the symbolic glory abode, which afterwards lingered at the gate of Eden, and reappeared in the Jewish temple. Here, while cre- ation lay around him still wet with its first dews, man was to come and minister as its high priest, offering up the incense of a grateful heart in the presence of Creating sovereign goodness. 7. A fifth element of man's condition was the enactment of a special law. This, too, was a novelty in creation. Natural law indeed was ubiquitous, penetrating and containing all things. And man, as far as he belonged to mere nature, took these laws into his own constitution, and became subject to them. But there is a part in him above nature ; and, accordingly, a law unknown to pre-existing nature, addresses him. " And Jeho- vah God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden eating, thou mayest eat : but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat of it ; for in the day that thou eatest thereof, dying thou shalt die." * No sooner is man endowed with the elements of responsibility than the hand of Law receives him, and claims him for a subject. In the same moment in which his faculties begin to act, the Law, already present and imperative, prescribes the direction of their activity. The Creator becomes the Governor, and the creature rises into the subject. 8. (1.) With the vindication of this law, or with its actual violation, we have not now to do.f Our present concern is only with the truths which it presupposed and taught Possibly, the prohibited tree belonged to a species not yet extinct. Nor * Gen. ii. 16, 17. t On these subjects, see Chaps. XVHI. and XIX. 174 MAN. is it improbable that it was a tree having exciting and noxious properties ; so that its interdiction may have been wise and beneficent. But these are points of mere curiosity and conject- ure. The first great truth which it forcibly recalled and em- bodied was that God was the Creator of all; for the absolute authority which the command assumes, is the right of the Cre- ator alone. The new-made man, indeed, could not have been in danger of formally denying this truth. It must have been one of the first thoughts to which his consciousness awoke. The very name of God implied it. Man's danger lay in famil- liarly admitting the fact without feeling its force. He knew of no other mode of production than that of direct Divine origina- tion. To him, therefore, production by creation was the natural mode. Hence, the importance of making him feel that he had been really and truly originated ; that he owed his being to mir- acle. One of the Divine designs in creating the woman after the man, and virtually in his presence, was, probably, to vivify this idea of his own creation. And now, the command, in effect, repeats it and perpetuates it. " I am the Lord thy God that created thee ; and have therefore an absolute right in thee ;" this was the solemn preamble and formula of the law, not form- ally announced, perhaps, but spontaneously supplied by the human heart. 9. (2.) The next great truth which the law disclosed was the existence of moral government. The language of the Law- giver was, in effect, " I have made thee consciously capable of self-government, and therefore of my government. Thy nature is a reflection of mine own, and can advance and be happy only by remaining in harmony with it. Awake to a sense of thy dignity and responsibility." The command touched a new part of man's constitution. The sentient, percipient, reflective, rational, and emotional parts of man's nature had already responded to their appropriate objects objects supplied by Power and Wisdom and Goodness, and declarative of these attributes. But now Holiness speaks, and awakes up the will and the conscience to a perception of their high functions. Taking its mandate into the very sanctuary of man's nature, it disclosed to him the great fact of his moral power. It told him, in effect, that the will of God was everywhere ; and that if he chose, he migh't find Thou shalt and Thou shalt not in- scribed on everything. So that, in that command, all nature may be said to have found a voice, and to have republished its ancient laws ; each created object to have lifted up its head and PROGRESSION. 175 to have caught a beam from the Divine sanctity. Having led man to a throne which overlooked and commanded all earthly things, the Divine Governor now unveiled his own throne, and, lo, man was sitting on its footstool ! 10. (3.) But law implies sanctions. Now, the very fact that man is threatened with death in the event of his disobedience implies that he is made for uninterrupted life. For to suppose that he is not, is to suppose that his life will terminate at some time even though he continue to obey ; in other words, that his happy existence will terminate whether he obey or disobey. If the Divine manifestation is to be continued in a course of unending progression, and if man is the being, or one of the orders of being, by whom the manifestation is to be continued, and to whom it is to be made, a twofold reason flows from the twofold office which he thus sustains, for the expectation of his unending existence. One of these reasons is objective and the other subjective ; and under one or the other of these will be found included all that has ever been advanced by the advo- cates of man's immortality. 11. The objectve reason is derived from the assumption that man is the being to whom the Divine manifestation is to be made. For, if such be the fact, the duration of his existence must be co-extensive with the duration of the manifestation ; and as that is never to end, it follows that man must have been destined for immortality. For the same reason that he has being at all, that being will be continued to him for ever. This conclusion, however, assumes that man continues capable of appreciating the Divine display : in the event of his losing that capacity, it may be thought to leave us in doubt respecting the issue. 12. Let us, then, look rie^ttto the subjective reasons for man's immortality, or to those derivable from his constitution as view- ed in the light of Divine government. The manifestation is continuous ; and he possesses the power of recalling and re- taining the past, and of carrying it on in an unbroken chain into the future. The manifestation is accumulative and pro- gressive ; and though his capacity, intellectual and moral, is to be ever filling, the same activity which tends to fill it, tends also to enlarge it for all the future. To the question then, might not the great end have been answered by making man immortal as a race, though perishable as an individual ? the reply is obvious. The highest end of man's existence is not intellectual but moral ; in other words, the manifestation is to 176 MAN. be made by him as well as to him. Every present hour finds and leaves him, by supposition, not less, but more prepared by the influence of the past for every future hour. The more he sympathizes with the laws of the Divine government, the great- er his power of obedience becomes. And the more he exhibits of the Divine character, the more he becomes capable of ex- hibiting it. So that if these capacities and powers constitute a reason for his having been brought into existence, the reason grows stronger every moment for its indefinite prolongation. At no moment could the termination of his existence arrive without finding him in the midst of unterminated questions, in- cipient attainments, with hopes and expectations projected far into the future, and with powers and capacities for taking pos- session of it such as he was never conscious of before. Now when it is remembered that for every appetite, organ, and faculty, whether in man or in the inferior animal, there is found to be a corresponding object in external nature, the pre- sumption is suggested that man's noblest aspiration cannot have been enkindled to be extinguished in disappointment. But be- sides that the eye finds light ; and the ear, sounds ; the intellect, objects of knowledge ; and the affections, objects of love ; it is to be remarked that many parts of the human constitution exist latently and potentially long before they announce themselves by coming forth to seek their appropriate objects. Like the lungs of the foetus in the womb,* they are of no immediate use, but form a part of a prospective arrangement, arid point to a destination not yet come ; affording analogical ground for the conclusion that man's subjective fitness for immortality, and his ardent longing after it, will be met by a corresponding arrange- ment in the future to which they point ; that a sphere is assign- ed him in which his powers can expand amidst congenial objects without end. 13. And so also in the event of man's disobedience ; as the loss of his holiness does not involve the loss of any of the con- stituent parts of his being, that being itself could not be extin- guished except by a mechanical act of omnipotence an act having no congenial relation to a moral being, and an act imply- ing that an obstacle had at length arisen in the part of the Di- vine proceedure which could not be turned to the account of any further manifestaton, and that therefore it must be annihilated. This surely, would be the weakness of justice, not its strength. * See Butler's Analogy, p. i. c. 1, PROGBESSION. 177 Besides, the extinction of the sinner would not be the extinction of his sin ; that would live on, in some of its effects, for ever an inextinguishable protest against the perfection of the Divine government : while yet the sinner himself who first uttered the protest is supposed to to be placed for ever, by an act of that government, beyond the reach of punishment. For, further, the extinction of being is an escape from punishment ; so that here would be the singular anomaly, that while the dread of punishment is punishment, the infliction itself is the termination of all punishment. In addition to which it is to be remarked that the very prospect held out of unending happiness in the event of obedience, supposed a nature capable of hoping for and desiring it. Now the same constitution which renders man capable of hoping, renders him capable of fearing to the same extent. But if it was never intended that such fear should be realized in the event of disobedience, here is the further anoma- ly of a part of the human constitution to which there is nothing whatever in the objective and the future to correspond. We believe, then that the soul of man was made originally immortal; not necessarily, indeed, or independently of the Divine will (as if it were a substance inherently and absolutely indestructible) but naturally ; irrespective, that is, of its subsequent moral char- acter ; and that disobedience leaves its mere duration untouched. 14. Now both the objective and the subjective argument for man's immortality are distinctly implied in the threatening of the primal prohibition. " In the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." The obvious alternative to this penalty was, the Divine guarrantee that if man did not violate the law, his obedience should exempt him from every evil which stands in opposition to a holy and happy existence. And of this unend- ing happy life " the tree of the life in the midst of the garden," was appointed to be, not indeed the instrumental cause, though possibly its properties were highly medicinal, but the appropri- ate symbol, and the appointed pledge. The fact that death was threatened as the forfeiture of un- limited good, implied the subjective argument also, for it ap- pealed to man's love of happiness. We say that the death threatened, implied (as is not uncommon in Scripture) the loss of all that belongs to a holy and happy existence: nor does there appeal" to be any substantial ground whatever for the common conclusion that it contemplated the extinction on the day of transgression of man's bodily life. We do not take this view on account of any supposed difficulty respecting the manner in 178 MAN. which the first man could have come to know what natural death was. His Divine instructor might have described it to him as a formidable evil, of which he might have consequently stood in undefined dread. The leaf which fluttered and fell at his feet was an emblem of death was death. The ephemera which perished under his eye at the close of day, the insect which the pressure of his own foot unwittingly crushed, the an- imalcules which the larger animals unavoidably imbibed as they drank at the river's brink, and the destruction of those insects on which some animals are constructed to live, and with- out which they themselves would die, any, or alt of these phe- nomena might have been employed to enable him to apprehend natural death as a fearful evil. 15. But that bodily dissolution not only falls short of the penalty denounced, but was not specified in it, appears probable on these considerations. First, that as the evil to be guarded against was of a moral nature, the penalty threatened might be antecedently expected to be connatural with it, and that natural evils would only follow incidentally. Secondly, that the un- qualified and absolute form of the threatening is that which is employed in Scripture to denote spiritual death alone, quite irrespective of corporal death.* Thirdly, that man's dissolution did not take place on the day of transgression, but was on that day predicted as a yet future event. Fourthly, that it was not named even on that day until after the promise of a Deliverer had been given, leaving it to be inferred that it had formed no part of the primal threatening. For with what propriety could a promise of entire deliverance from the original penalty be immediately followed by an intimation that a portion of it must yet be endured ? And, fifthly, the death of the body is named as only one of a series of evils, including corporal toil, pain, and prolonged sorrow ; and surely these latter were not directly included in the primal threatening, for the instant extinction of man's bodily life would have made them impossible. From all of which we infer, on the one hand, that the penalty threat- ened consisted of the death of the soul, the alienation of the heart from God, the loss of " His favor which is life," and the endurance of His displeasure ; and, on the other, that bodily toil, pain, and dissolution ensued, on man's transgression, as the appropriate exponents, and sensible mementoes of man's fallen * Deut. xxx. 15 : Psalm xxx. 5 ; Prov. viii. 35, 36 ; John iii. 36 ; KOH> v. 17; &c. PROGRESSION. 179 condition. Had his spiritual nature maintained its standing of love and obedience to God its natural state his physical nature would have continued to enjoy preternatural exemption from the laws of pain and death belonging to the whole animal economy. But having brought himself spiritually into an un- natural state, and so incurred the threatened penalty of spiritual death, he was allowed to fall physically from a state of preter- natural exemption down to the pre-existing laws of animal suf- fering and death. ^ 16. As to the question where, in the event of man's perse- vering obedience, his immortality would have been spent, or the objection, that he could not have continued to live here for ever an objection which is sometimes urged in a tone which almost implies that man must, sooner or later, have sinned, if only in accommodating compliance with that impossibility we have only to reply, that the universe of worlds was open then for the localization of unfallen man, as it is now for redeemed man ; that he might have spent his immortality where the un- fallen angels are enjoying theirs; and that, without "tasting death," he might, like Enoch and Elijah, have been translated, generation after generation, to a nobler state of existence. A more interesting speculation would it be to follow him into that higher sphere, and to imagine what his attainments and dis- tinctions might there have been: whether, for instance, he would not have been qualified and employed to become the exemplar, in knowledge, in purity, and in spiritual excellence, of other orders of intelligent beings, himself ascending from throne to throne in an ever-advancing career of glory. But this is to speculate on a hypothesis. It is enough for us to find that man was from the beginning destined to an immortality of existence, and that this sovereign appointment, implied in the sanction of the first law, harmonized with all the laws of the Divine manifestation. Such was the theology of innocent man a powerful, wise, and beneficent Creator, the object of wor- ship ; that Creator his equitable moral governor ; and immortal life in prospect as the reward of his obedience, and a threatened death, standing for all that is opposed to life, as the deserved penalty of disobedience. 17. Here, then, both in the constitution and condition of man is the progress sought. God has now first a representative on earth a son.* And he, " fearfully and wonderfully made," * Luke, iii. 38. 180 MAN. finds liimself in circumstances suggestive of, and corresponding to, Iris high relation. Nature offers itself to his eye, a glorious picture-poem, waiting to be read. In relation to the pre-ex- isting creatures, his every seat is a throne, and he walks to it through ranks of objects not made with hands. His unuttered inquiries are answered by hints and intimations from a Divine instructor. He is joined by one whose presence reveals to him the resources of his heart. Every word articulated was new to nature, and above it. Every voluntary act disclosed some wonder of his being : he can believe, he can love, he can obey, and still he is conscious of a reserve of wonders. Principles before at large are now lodged; his person encloses them. The Lawgiver speaks to him, and Eden becomes an anticipa- tion of Sinai ; and the mere purpose to obey a purpose till now unknown on earth, gladdens all nature, and sanctifies it. The dial of time was now first set for worship, that he might consecrate its moments. Divine properties in him are incar- nated humanized. He is in " the image of God." So true is this, that his conception of God is the only one which can satisfy his idea of perfect excellence. External nature cannot realize it. It suggests far more than it exhibits. This is its highest function, to make the mind conscious of its superiority to outward things, even to those which come direct from the Creator's hand, and so to make it aware of its connaturalness with Him. The " angel standing in the midst of the sun " did not occupy a prouder position than innocent man placed in the midst of nature. Through him everything pointed away, as in rays of light, to God. He was the informing spirit of the whole. A mind had come to fill up the vacancy between earth and heaven. While the invisible tribunal within him looked away to the unlimited sphere of the distant and the future, peo- pled, not with shadows, but with hardly concealed forms of glory or of terror. APTER IV. CONTINUITY. is not an abnormal and unconnected part of the sys- tem in which he appears. Though " crowned with glory and CONTINUITY. 181 honor," his " foundation is in the dust." He is the last member of the advancing and related series of which he stands at the head. In other words, through man, " the Divine manifesta- tion, besides being progressive is continuous, or is progressive by being continuous." 2. Even the creative process, which ended in man's produc- tion, did not introduce a new system of nature. It took its place in the great plan as preceding changes had done ; and as those epochs had been manifestly local, so the Adamic creation was no doubt compatible with the uninterrupted maintenance of life in places beyond its own immediate sphere. Preceding epochs exhibit a gradual increase in the number of species till we reach the multitudes of existing species ; as well as the gradual conformity of the successive animal creations to the existing types. The human creation is only the most advanced part of a system of many preceding stages. 3. Man stands also in chronological continuity with the past. According to the sacred historian, the production of man was the continuous and crowning act of a six days' series of crea- tions. Of the different systems of sacred chronology the Samaritan, the Hebrew, the Septuagint, and that of Josephus we adopt the computation which results from the guidance of the latter two, as exhibited by Jackson, Hales, Russell, and Wallace ; * giving a period of from 5411 to 5478 years from the creation to the Advent of Christ. The difference of this time, indeed, as compared with the vitiated computations of the He- brew text, (for doubtless its chronology agreed originally with that of the Septuagint rather, the chronology of the Septua- gint was derived from it,) amounts to nearly 1500 years. But even this longer period makes the date of man's origin to be " but of yesterday." Whether or not any beings of other species may have been called into existence since the time of man's introduction upon the earth, is a subject which does not affect the question before us. We only affirm that man's crea- tion was an event in chronological continuity with a series of creative acts : that in addition to the pOAver, and wisdom, and goodness of the Creator previously displayed by these acts, man appeared as a manifestation of his Maker's moral charac- ter ; and that his introduction dates from about the compara- * See Jackson's " Chronological Antiquities ; " Hales' " Analysis of Chronology ; " Eussell's " Connection of Sacred and Profane History ," &c. ; and Prof. Wallace's " Tme Age of the World." 16 182 MAN. tively recent period which we have specified. The distance of the creation from the Christian era, indeed, is different as esti- mated by different systems of chronology. The Indian chro- nology, as computed by Gentil, would make the interval 6174 years; the Babylonian, by Bailly, G158 ; and the Chinese, by Bailly, 6157.* But this difference, considering the proneness of every early nation to antedate its existence, surprises by its minuteness rather than by its magnitude, and justifies our con- fidence in the Biblical chronology as interpreted by the Septua- gint. Still further is the recency of man's origin confirmed by obvious inferences from the actual state and number of the spe- cies. How, for example, is the incipient state of many of the arts and sciences, compared with the progress of human discov- ery, to be accounted for ; or the scantiness of the world's popu- lation, compared with its ever-multiplying and expansive power ; or the absence of all remains of man and of his works, (as far as research has hitherto gone,) from even the latest of the ter- tiary beds, except on the supposition of his comparatively mod- ern introduction on the earth ? 4. The order of man's appearance exhibits him also in geo- logical continuity with the classes of animated nature to which he stands most nearly related. Geology, indeed, affords no ground whatever for the hypothesis of a regular succession of creatures, beginning with the simplest forms in the older strata, and ascending to the more complicated in the later formations. The earliest forms of life known to geology are not of the lowest grade of organization ; neither are the earliest forms of any of the classes which appear subsequently, the simplest of their kind. Still, the succession of the vertebral classes is remarka- ble. For, notwithstanding subordinate exceptions to regular progress, the geological order in which we find these classes is that of an ascending series fishes, reptiles, birds, mammals ; and, at the head of the last of these classes, and the latest in time, comes man. Among the subordinate exceptions to regular zoological * The chronology of Egypt is still undetermined. M. Bunsen begins his exposition of it with Menes, whom he places, A. c. 3643. But even his friendly reviewer in the Quarterly questions the personal existence of Menes, observing, that there is no documentary evidence of it that Menu among the Hindus, Minos, and Minyas among the Greeks, Minerva among the Etruscans, and Mannus among the Germans, are the tradi- tional authors of civilization, and that the name is always linked with A root denoting mind as the faculty, and man as the agent. CONTINUITY. 188 progression to which I refer, it may be proper to instance such quadruinana as the orang, the ape, and the monkey. The non- discovery for a time of any trace of these tribes among the fos- sil records of extinct mammalia, had led some to the conclusion, that this type of organization, most nearly resembling the hu- man, came so late in the order of creation as to be little anterior to that of man. Recent discoveries, however, have abundantly shown that the inference was premature. A great number of extinct species are now added to our fossil collection of tertiaiy mammalia. The bones of a gibbon, or one of the tail-less apes, standing next in the scale of organization to the orang, were found in 1837 in the South of France ; but they were imbedded in strata probably of the miocene, or middle tertiary period, and were accompanied by the remains of the mastodon, dinothe- rium, palaeotherium, and other extinct quadrupeds. While the British quadrumane, discovered in 1839 near Woodbridge, in Suffolk, occurred in a still more ancient stratum, and belongs also to an extinct species.* 5. The physical structure of man places him in a zoological line with pre-existing animals. The misconception and abuse of this fact have led to a theory of development, according to which an unbroken chain of gradually advanced organization has been evolved from the crystal to the globule, and thence through the successive stages of the polypus, the mollusk, the insect, the fish, the reptile, the bird, and the beast, up to the monkey, and the man. As this untenable idea came under examination in the previous Treatise, and will be adverted to again in the next chapter, I will only at present offer two re- marks upon it. First, that the continuity which it advocates, even if its existence could be substantiated, would be only ap- parent or general. No two species so nearly approach as not to leave room for an intermediate third. However slight the break where one animal may appear to graduate into another, such an interruption there is ; and it is nothing less than an in- terruption in kind, a transition from identity to essential differ- ence. But, secondly, such transmutation is unknown. No animal shows any signs of graduating into an animal of a higher cla^s, much less into a human being. But, speaking generally, the type on which the animal and human structures are formed, is one. The type of the human hand, for example, is found in beings which existed prior to the * See Lyell's " Principles," etc. c. ix. 184 MAN. creation of man. Certain analogies exist also in the structure of the brain between some of the Simiie and man. Professor Owen, indeed, has demonstrated that these resemblances have been greatly over-rated ; and that, while in man the facial angle is, in the average of Europeans, 80, in the adult chimpanzee, which in this respect approaches the nearest to man, the facial angle is only 35, and in the orang or satyr 30. " The ape compared with man," says Professor Kidd, "may indeed be among other animals ' proximus huic ;' still, however, it must be added ' longo sed proximus inter vallo.' " In other words, the physical continuity of which we speak is found to consist with essential difference and with a permanency of specific form. The identity of the species is unchangeable. Even the higher phenomena of the human mind are not without their suggestive pre-intimations in the animal world. The impelled volitions of the brute will, is a faint foreshadowing of man's free will, and an apt picture of the constrained condition to which it may be reduced. And even the conscience may be regarded as having an inadequate precursor in the resentful rage of the animal when suffering' from the hand of man, though of the moral qual- ity of justice it knows nothing. Mere external resemblances of this nature abound ; nor can there be any danger in allowing the imagination to indulge itself in tracing them, provided the mind does not lose sight of the still greater differences. 6. The serial character of the Adamic creation, then; the chronological relation in which man stands to the great process ; the order of his appearance in respect to the particular classes of animal life to w r hich he belongs ; and his relation to pre- existing types of physical structure, all show that he is an inte- gral part of the great system into which he has come. He was meant, for a time at least, to be at home in it. To disturb it, would be to derange his own nature. If he would understand it, he must study it. If he would command it, he must obey its laws. Such is the harmony between it and him, that in pro- portion as he develops its resources, he promotes his own self-development. And w r hile his intellectual distinction, as compared with animated nature, consists in his perception of this fact, and in his consciously acting on it, his moral preroga- tive lies in the power which he possesses of viewing the creation as the symbolical utterance of the Creator's perfections, and of voluntarily making it the occasion of a homage which places him in communion with the Uncreated. DEVELOPMENT. 186 CHAPTER V. DEVELOPMENT. 1. WE have seen that man takes up into his constitution the distinctive characteristics of the higher classes of animals. The law of development leads us to expect " that the same character- istics and properties which existed in the preceding and inferior stage of creation will be found to be not only brought on to the present, but to be in a more advanced condition, in the sense of being expressed in higher forms, or applied to higher purposes, (if it be not entirely superseded by something superior ;) or that it will be in the power of the subsequent and superior production so to render or to apply it." For as, by the great law of the Divine manifestation, everything is in alliance and dependence ; and as everything looks on to an end beyond itself, its nature, or its relations and results, may be expected to advance, the further it proceeds from its original starting-point towards the distant end for the sake of which it exists.* The development of which we speak, it will be remarked, is not of one thing from another, but of the Divine plan of creation, and of our concep- tions of that plan. It has been shown already (in the preceding chapter) that man is, geologically speaking, of recent origin. Chronologically, the inspired records anticipated this conclusion, by describing man as the crowning production of the Adamic creation. And regarded zoologically, as ranking among the mammalia, it is found that the series of structures modelled on this particular type, after exhibiting the gradual development of its character- istic elements, attains a point of perfection in man which places him at the summit of the scale of terrestrial beings. 2. Physiologists point out numerous particulars in which man specifically differs from, and surpasses the physical structure and physiological constitution of such animals as make the nearest approximation to him.f The most obvious of these distinctions is his erect posture. " Man presents the only instance among the mammalia of a conformation by which the erect posture can be permanently maintained, and in wliich the office of support- * The Tre-Adamitc Earth, p. 52. t Blumenbach's DC generis Human! Varietate Nativa, 1. 16* 186 MAN. ing the trunk of the body is consigned exclusively to the lower extremities." Even M. Lesson, while affirming that the Simiae, in general organization, are nearer to man than to the brutes, lays it down as a perfectly ascertained fact, that it is only by accident, or external help, or painful training, that the orangs tread for a few moments on their posterior limbs alone, or inse- curely keep themselves in an upright position. In man, however, the length of the heel-bone, the form of the foot, the broad, articular surfaces of the knee-joint, the muscular swelling of the calves, the length of the leg, the width and direction of the pelvis, the manner in which the head is placed on the spinal column, and the adjustments of the organs of sense, all combine to mark the intention of the Divine Creator that man should maintain an upright attitude.*" ' How many excellences/ exclaims Cicero, * God has bestowed upon mankind ! He has raised them from the ground and made them lofty and erect.'f The os homini sublime, of Ovid, celebrates the same organic distinction. The primary and most striking advantage of this arrangement is, that the anterior limbs, the arms and hands, by being exempted from the service to which other animals apply them, are left at liberty to be employed by man as instruments of prehension and touch. 3. This brings us to remark on that structure of unrivalled excellence, the human hand ; for were it not differently consti- tuted from the anterior limb of other animals, in vain would be its exemption from the office of supporting the body. The limb which comes nearest to the human hand is the paw of the adult chimpanzee. But its distinguishing peculiarity is the smallness of the thumb, (so insignificant as to have been termed by Eusta- chius " omnino ridiculus") which " extends no further than to the root of the fingers. Now, it is upon the length, strength, free lateral motion, and perfect mobility of the thumb, that the power of the human hand depends. The thumb is called pottex, because of its strength ; and that strength is necessary to the power of the hand, being equal to that of all the fingers. Without the fleshy ball of the thumb, the power of the fingers would avail nothing ; and accordingly, the large ball, formed by the muscles of the thumb, is the distinguishing character of the human hand, and especially of that of an expert workman/'J Doubtless, the *Dr. Elliotson's Human Physiology, c. 1. p. 9; Dr. Prichard's Re- searches, etc. Vol. I. p. 171, etc. t Cicero's Nat. Deor. lib. ii. p. 173. t Sir C. Bell's Treatise on the Hand, p. 121. DEVELOPMENT. 187 variously formed and armed extremities of other animals give them great advantages. " But to man," says Galen, " the Crea- tor has given, in lieu of every other natural weapon or organ of defence, that instrument, the hand; an instrument applicable to every art and occasion, as well of peace as of war. Rightly has Aristotle defined the hand to be the instrument antecedent to, or productive of, all other instruments."* "Were we aiming to establish the right of man, then, to occupy the summit of the zoological pyramid, whether we compared his physical claims with the claims of any other single species, or with the selected and aggregate perfections of the whole ani- mal creation, we could be content to rely on the mechanism and endowments of the hand alone. Such is its perfection, in these respects, that some philosophers, like Anaxagoras in ancient, and Helvetius in modern times, have ascribed man's superiority to his hand alone. True, his advancement is owing ultimately to his intellectual power. Yet with hoofs instead of hands, he would be physically unable to construct the simplest instruments. It is his hand which executes the plans which his mind con- ceives ; though it does no more. It is the human hand which multiplies its own power by adding to it the wheel, the axle, and all the mechanical powers ; which appropriates the strength of one animal, and the swiftness of another ; which, by the con- struction of suitable instruments, increases indefinitely our powers of hearing and of sight ; and gives us that complete dominion we possess over the various forms of matter. Man, then, is supe- rior in organization to all other animals ; for his hand is not an isolated part, or a thing appended ; every part of his frame con- forms to it, and acts with reference to it. Yet the bones whose distribution we so much admire in the human arm and hand, we recognize in the fin of the whale, in the paddle of the turtle, in the wing of the bird, and in the paw of the lion or the bear. But concerning men it was the pleasure of the Creator to say, " Let them have dominion over all these :" and He devised and created the human hand as the instrument of acquiring that do- minion. 4. Ascending from the mechanism of man's structure to the functions of his organic life, we find that he is distinguished by that kind of superiority which his social and moral relations might have led us to expect. The form and arrangement of * Quoted in Prof. Kidd's Bridgewatcr Treatise on the Physical Con- dition of Man, p. 33. 188 MAN. his teeth, as well as the structure of his digestive organs, show that he is omnivorous, or capable of subsisting alike on vege- table and animal food, while his means of culinary preparation, and his natural and artificial means of adapting himself to the temperature, better qualify him for every variety of soil and climate than any other animal. Hence he is found alike in the arctic circle, and under the equator, and supporting the widely different degrees of atmospheric pressure in valleys, and on lofty table lands, ten thousand feet high. And it is singular that the animals which make the nearest approach to him in structure should be among those which, in this respect of geographical distribution, differ most widely from him such as the chim- panzee and ourang-outang. Now, as we found animal existence superior to vegetable, partly because it is rendered independent of local situation for food, and enjoys the liberty of moving from place to place, the superiority of human existence to mere ani- mal life, in this respect, is proportionate to the wider sphere in which he is free to range. Yet who but the Maker of man could have known that his nutritive system was thus general- ized, as the fact is implied in the primitive appointment, " Be- hold I have given you every herb bearing seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree on which is fruit bear- ing seed ; to you it shall be for food." And the system of nu- trition thus generalized is, remarks Roget, one vast laboratory, where mechanism is subservient to chemistry, where chemistry is the agent of the higher powers of vitality, and where these powers themselves minister to the more exalted faculties of sen- sation and intellect. 5. Still more marked is the superiority of man if we ascend to the department of his animal life. Here, that relation of the sexes which is a law of the whole animated kingdom, is the means of producing intellectual improvement and moral excel- lence. For this we are prepared by the inspired historian of Eden. " And Jehovah God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept : and he took out one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place. And Jehovah God formed [built up] the rib which he had taken from the man into a woman, and he brought her to the man. And the man said, this now is it* bone out of my bones, and flesh out of my flesh ; this shall be called woman, for out of man was this * Meaning " now at length I see a being like myself, one of my own species," referring to ver. 20. DEVELOPMENT. 189 taken."* In this simple and tender narrative it is intimated that the creation of woman was the filling up of a divine plan for the paradisiacal well-being of man, and was essential to it ; that, prior to such creation, man felt " the unsufficingness of himself for himself;" that the first woman was connatural with, and a part of, the first man ; that she was presented to Adam by the hand of God ; that she was received by Adam as his other self, the supplement and complement of his own being ; and that they were regarded by God as being (in a sense here- after to be explained) indissolubly one. And thus, while among the inferior animals the sexual relation contemplates a specific end, which, generally speaking, begins and ends with itself, here, propensity is promoted into moral principle ; tem- porary connection into the sacred and enduring bond of mar- riage ; the daily utterances of external life into " the outward and visible signs of an inward sacrament" of sanctified love. Here, the tenderness and susceptibility of one sex are to exer- cise a refining influence on the sterner attributes of the other, while these again are to re-act in fortifying and ennobling the character of the former ; the distinguishing excellences of each being added to the other. 6. The gregarious instinct of certain animal species is re- placed in man by the social principle. The relation of the sexes is made eminently subservient to this very purpose, and other means are added to it. By making " of one blood all nations of men" by giving the human race the same parentage, all its members sustain from the beginning a family relation- ship ; by creating at first only one man and woman, and by per- petuating the sexes ever since in the same numerical propor- tion, wise and gracious provision is made for the cultivation of those family affections which are the foundation of all other affections ; by prolonging the period of human infancy and help- lessness so much beyond the period of dependence with the young of mere animals ; and by thus giving the mother an op- portunity of instilling her own yearning affection into the child, the child an opportunity of acquiring a deep sense of filial obli- gation, and the children time for cementing tbje-pure union of brotherly and sisterly affection, further scope is afforded for the * Gen. ii. 21 23. The verse following, " Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother and cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh" is doubtless the inspired application of the narrative the formal authentication of the great law of marriage as inserted and founded in the original constitution of human nature. 190 MAN. full development of the social affections. Sometimes, indeed, we hear certain species of the Simise tribe vaguely spoken of as apparently resembling man in many of his social habits. But sociality, though based in the union of the sexes, does not be- long to man's animal nature ; it is an attribute of his intellectual and moral constitution. Hence, while the bond of cohesion among animals remains stationary from age to age, the social principle in humanity has shown itself capable of perpetual de- velopment. And the Divine appointment that man should take possession of the earth, and have dominion over it, plainly re- ferred us to each other's help, and implied the mutual depend- ence and co-operation of social life. And, what is strikingly distinctive of man, the earth may be said to be covered with monumental proofs* of affection for departed friends, of the con- viction that they survive elsewhere, and of the hope that in some other state the social principle will triumph in the re-union of those whom death has temporarily severed. 7. With respect to the sensorial functions in man, they will be found to be either in themselves, or in their application, in advance of those of animals. It is generally allowed that few of any class of animals excels man in more than in one of the senses. But it seems to have escaped remark, that no animal probably excels man in the use of any one sense in more than in one or two respects, and these directly connected with the preservation and propagation of life, while in every other re- spect man may excel the animal, even in the use of that par- ticular sense. The sight of the hawk, for example, may be more acute for a special purpose that of perceiving a small object at a great distance below it, but unless it could be shown that it is capable of sweeping the magnificence of the midnight heavens, of combining in one view a whole field of separate ob- jects say an army, of looking steadily at the same objects for hours together, and of enjoying alike the presence of artificial and of natural light, the only case made out is one, not of supe- riority, but simply of variety. Now, (to say nothing of that robe of civilizing sensibility, the human skin,) the sense of touch the only sense, perhaps, common to the whole animal creation attains its greatest per- fection in the human hand. Taste enlarges our range of sense- perceptions, by making us acquainted with the qualities of bodies in a fluid or liquefied state. Smell still further extends our * Dr. Prichard has an elegant paragraph (6) on this subject in his " Researches." Vol. I., c. ii., 2. DEVELOPMENT. 191 circle of perception, by acquainting us with the qualities of bodies in their volatile and gaseous state. And though within certain limits some animals may possess these senses in greater perfection than man, the probability is, that in man they are ca- pable of application to a much greater variety of objects ; and that over and above their direct utility, they become to him a source of enjoyment which the animal is denied. This is cer- tainly the case with the sense of hearing, which still further widens our range of perception. In the construction of this organ, a gradation can be traced from the simplest form of which it is susceptible in the lower animals through eight or nine successive additions, till we arrive at the combination of the whole in the higher orders of the mammalia, and find them finally, in their most highly developed state in man. The hearing of some animals, indeed, may comprehend a range of vibrations which escapes the human ear. But more probable is it that our ear perceives sounds which theirs cannot, and that it commands a greater scale of sounds. And this, moreover, is certain, that the human ear perceives the relation of sounds in a manner denied to animals, and that from the harmony of sounds man derives some of his deepest emotions. Sight en- larges our field of perception to the utmost by taking us beyond the range of animal existence, and enabling us to explore the remote regions of creation. And here, again, from the first appearance of visual organs among the infusoria we can trace successive degrees of refinement, and extensions of power, till we come to those of quadrupeds which agree in their general structure with the human eye. In the lower quadrupeds, how- ever the eyes to name no other difference are placed lat- erally, " so that the optic axes form a very obtuse angle with each other." Approaching the quadrumana, we find this angle becoming smaller. In the human species, the axes of the two orbits, approach nearer to parallelism than in any of the other mammalia; and the fields of vision of both eyes coincide nearly in their whole extent. This is probably a circumstance of con- siderable importance with regard to our acquisition of correct perceptions by this sense. 8. Facts demonstrate, however, that the perfection of man's perceptions exceeds the comparative perfection of his different organs of sense. The reason of this superiority, therefore, must be looked for either in the brain, in the percipient mind, or in the brain employed as the organ of the mind. One of the modes employed for the classification of animals 192 MAN. is based on the difference of the nervous system, which they progressively exhibit. This system consists of nerves and variously shaped masses of nervous matter, or ganglia, distrib- uted, in some animals, symmetrically, and in others irregularly ; and also, in vertebrals, of a spinal chord, and a brain in a bony skull. Physiology points out a threefold division of the nerves the sympathetic, the sensitive, and the motor. Of these, the office of the sympathetic nerves is simply to maintain life ; hence they are distributed over every part connected with nutrition, respiration, and circulation ; and like those parts, they act spon- taneously, without any cognizance or effort of the living being. These involuntary nerves of organic life are regarded as com- mon to all animated nature ; and probably they are the only kind of nerves which the lowest classes of animals possess. The sensitive nerves subserve a higher purpose. They form the nerves of the several senses, or the media by which external objects become the occasions of perceptions ; each sense having its own special nerve endowed with its peculiar properties, and being affected according to its own proper function even when all are acted on by the same stimulus. The motor nerves re- late to the power of voluntary motion. And it is to be observed that while the sensitive system of nerves communicates to the brain, the motor system issues from the brain to the organs of action. 9. Now, on comparing the relative proportions of the brain and nerves in the four classes of vertebrated animals, Tiedemann and others have shown that there is a regular progression as we ascend from fishes to reptiles, birds, and mammalia. Further, the brain itself is naturally divided into the cerebellum or little braiij, and the large hemispheres of the cerebrum ; the former lying at the posterior base of the latter, and thought to contain the nerves of the instinctive propensities ; the cerebrum being, by supposition, related more directly to the functions of the intellect ; and it is in the cerebral hemispheres chiefly that this progressive enlargement of the brain is seen an enlargement which appears to require that the convoluted mass should be folded and packed, in order that the cranium might contain it. Now, on looking at the human brain, this gradation of devel- opment is found to be rather disturbed, than continued by the great and sudden increase of its size,* and this chiefly in the * Some pretend to discover a striking resemblance between the brain of the orang-outang and that of man. But, in the first place, the differ- ence in their volume is as five to one. c. Gall, 1. c. t. vi. p. 298. DEVELOPMENT. 193 expansion of the hemispheres. And still further it is shown not only that it is in these cerebral parts, eight or nine times larger than the cerebellum, and that the human brain exceeds, in proportion to the rest of the nervous system, that of other animals, but that, when fully developed, it contains parts which do not exist in the brain of any other animal species. Whence it is to be inferred that the intellectual superiority of man, as far as its physical conditions are concerned, depends on the dis- tinctive peculiarity of his brain. 10. But do not these facts countenance the embryotic hypo- thesis which teaches that the organic germs of all animals are identical, and that the higher animals while in the womb, pass through all the successive conditions which, in the lower grades of animals, are permanent ; the human brain, for example, as- suming in its formation the characters of the brain in the fish, the reptile, the bird, and the quadruped successively ? Doubt- less, we reply, if the hypothesis were first established on its own proper evidence, the facts we have adduced would har- monize with it, up to a certain point the point, namely, where the mind asserts its independence of matter. But the hypothesis itself is without proof. The resemblances observ- able between the embryo of different animals imply chiefly the imperfection of our tests. Mere likeness is mistaken for iden- tity. The analogy relates only to some one organ, or part of the foetus, at a time ; the likeness becoming apparent only by dint of refusing to see the attendant differences. The serial character of the supposed development fails in the most essen- tial parts ; such as the primitive trace exhibiting the rudiment of a backbone instead of a vegetable resemblance ; the heart of the foetus of a mammal not passing through the form which is permanent in the amphibia, though it does pass through a form not found permanent in any known creature ; and in numerous similar instances. Even by those who look favorably on the hypothesis, it is admitted that " the brain of the human foetus at no time precisely resembles that of any individual whatever among the lower animals." The truth appears to be that, as soon as ever organs begin to be distinguishable, the dis- tinctions are found to be specific. And, as far as we know any- thing on the subject, these specific differences are constant and immutable. 11. So also the facts which we have adduced might seem to harmonize with that theory of Transmutation which teaches that originally there was no distinction of species, but that 17 194 MAN. each class has in the course of ages been derived from some different class, less perfect than itself, by a spontaneous eifort at improvement. First, however, the theory itself must be based on independent evidence. Now the observations of mankind for thousands of years have furnished no instance of a trans- mutation of species. The crowded worlds of fossil geology present no remains whatever of any species in a state of tran- sition into any other species ; not even a trace of any char- acteristic part of a species having exhibited such progress. Striking as the resemblance may be between any two species, still, what more can be said than that the difference is specific ? The hypothesis supposes, moreover, that the propensities of an animal determine its organization, for it assumes that the struc- tural peculiarities of a species have resulted from its prolonged efforts at something for which it was not originally adapted. But if the organization, so far either from being one with the propensity, or from giving direction to it, has had actually to be conformed to it, what, we ask, determines the propensity ? or whence this presupposed organizing, creative propensity ? Be- sides, all the great changes of animal conformation which come under our notice are prospective ; taking place, not in conse- quence of a new condition, but in preparation for it ; thus, the embryotic life of the animal is subordinate to the formation of organs for a life after birth. It is only in accordance with this fact to add, that the brain of the savage is prospective of his civilization. Great as is the difference between the civilized and the uncivilized man, there is no perceptible distinction in the cerebral organs of the two. Soammering has enumerated as many as fifteen important anatomical differences between the human brain and that of the ape ; and these are all present in the brain of the least cultivated of the human species. In a word, the only deviations from specific forms with which we are acquainted are those of monsters, or of lusus naturae, in which, instead of the brain of an individual of a lower class being promoted into that of a higher, the brain of an individual of a higher class is arrested in its growth at some stage short of its full develop- ment ; and we are presented with retrogression instead of ad- vancement. For the reasons stated, then, we see in that cere- bral gradation which finds its perfection in man, not the opera- tion of a self-evolving law, or the necessary self-development of any supposed powers in nature, but the progressive develop- ment of the Divine plan respecting nature. 12. Nor do the facts we have adduced respecting the human DEVELOPMENT. 195 brain afford any adequate support to phrenology as a science. They evince, indeed, that there is a connection between the brain and our mental manifestations ; but this is widely remote from the notion that mind is an essential property of brain, as well as from the fundamental law of phrenology " That the power of any mental feeling or faculty is measured directly and necessarily by the size of the organ." The investigations to which phrenology has led have doubtless resulted in valuable additions to cerebral physiology. But were the data neces- sary for his system as full and complete as the most ardent phrenologist could desire, he could contribute nothing whatever directly to the science of psychology. His science is physiology ; and in all his cerebral researches he is presupposing a psychol- ogy, assuming certain mental faculties as already known on other grounds. All that he can properly undertake is to distribute and place them in different parts of the brain. Consciousness first supplies the mental facts, observation is his only guide in physiology. His very data, however, are at present incomplete and unsatisfactory. Whether or not, for example, there are distinct portions of the brain for distinct mental faculties; whether or not phrenology, if there are such organs, has cor- rectly identified them ; whether or not the brain has convexities on its surface, or any other signs, answering generally to the external convexities of the cranium ; whether or not the same nervous fibres run between similar organs on opposite sides of the brain, or only between the two sides, merely indicating a unity of action between the two hemispheres as one organ rather than as made up of many organs ; and how the system is reconcilable with the irregularity which the surface of the brain presents on the different sides of the same head these questions, elementary as they are to phrenology as a science, are yet unsettled. 13. " Of all the organs of the body, the brain presents the least intimacy of connection between the results of dissection and the phenomena of disease. The most violent symptoms referable to this organ often exist during life ; and yet, on the most careful examination, after death, either no appreciable lesson, or none sufficient to account for the phenomena, can be detected. Whilst, on the other hand, many and most important changes are frequently discovered in both the brain and its mem- branes, in cases which betrayed either no cerebral disorder, or none calculated to excite suspicion during life of any organic 196 MAN. change." * The truth is, says Dr. Roget, that there is not a sin- gle part of the encephalon which has not, in one case or other, been impaired, destroyed, or found defective, without any appa- rent change in the sensitive, intellectual, or moral faculties ; a statement confirmed by a large collection of cases made by Hal- ler, Ferrier, and others. Dr. Carpenter remarks on it as "a very curious circumstance, that the difference in the antero- posterior diameter, between the brain of man and that of the lower mammalia, principally arises from the shortness of the posterior lobes in the latter, these being seldom long enough to cover the cerebellum ; yet it is in these posterior lobes that the animal propensities are regarded by phrenologists as having their seat. On the other hand, the anterior lobes in which the in- tellectual faculties are considered as residing, bear in many ani- mals a much larger proportion to the whole bulk of the brain. Again, comparative anatomy and experiment alike sanction the conclusion, that the purely instinctive propensities have not their seat in the cerebrum." 14. Indeed, physiology proves that the superiority of the brain as the means of mental manifestation depends not on its absolute size ; for the brain of the elephant and of some of the larger cetacea, is larger than that of man : nor on its propor- tional size as compared with the size of the entire body ; for the brain of the elephant is smaller in proportion to its body than that perhaps of any other quadruped, and yet few exceed the elephant in sagacity ; and, judged by this criterion, several even of the smaller birds must rank above man : nor on its inter-proportional size, comparing either the mutual proportions of its constituent parts, or of the whole of it with the nerves which it sends forth. For though it is only in this latter sense, according to Simmering, that man can be said to have a larger brain than any other animal, tested by this standard the dog should rank in intelligence below the ox, the orang-outang be- low the porpoise, and the dolphin next to man. From all which it is to be inferred that, while the brain may have been placed by the Divine Creator in instrumental relation to the mind, and while the mental and moral superiority of man, physically considered, may depend on the distinctive peculiarity of his brain, that superiority is not to be regarded as 'measured by this cerebral distinction, any more than the amount of cere- bral activity is determined by the muscular instruments which it is the means of setting in motion. * Art. "Brain," in Dr. Copland's " Diet, of Practical Medicine." DEVELOPMENT. 197 15. This conclusion affirms an essential distinction between mind and matter, and the grounds on which we have arrived at this conclusion prove the distinction. To the vulgar demand to see mind in order to believe in its existence, it might be suffi- cient to retort, Show us matter in order that we may credit its existence. And all that the materialist could reply would be, not that the hand touches it, or that the eye sees it, but that we touch it with our hand and see it with our eye ; in other words, that the brain feels and sensibly attests its existence. But the feeling itself he cannot show us. No cerebral commotion he can exhibit is a conviction, no physical process a conclusion, a judgment, that a material object is lying before him. He is con- scious that an object is before him ; but who can see this act or state of his consciousness ? We believe it to be an act of the very essence, mind, whose existence he denies ; and regard him, therefore, as presupposing and employing mind in the very act of disproving its reality, or as begging the question at issue. 16. So also of those who argue analogically, as they suppose, and affirm that as the liver secretes bile, so the brain secretes thought, it is to be remarked, first, that they begin by assuming the brain to be a gland, and then infer the secretory character of thought, or by assuming thoughts to be secretions, and then infer the glandular structure of the brain ; in either case beg- ging the very premiss from which their conclusion is to be drawn. Secondly, the elementary particles in the blood, out of which bile is formed by the liver, can be pointed out ; unless, there- fore, the materialist can point out in the brain the matter of hope, surprise, or doubt, he is chargeable with the self-inconsistency of arguing from the visible to the invisible. He professes to rely for proof on observation alone, and yet he is here inferring more than he sees, concluding from the known to the unknown. And, thirdly, the very mental act by which he thus generalizes the supposed functions of different organs, is of a nature for which nothing he observes in the brain can account. All that he observes are material phenomena, the act by which he gene- ralizes these isolated phenomena and gives them unity, is a phenomenon of which he becomes aware only by consciousness ; an act therefore lying entirely out of the range of his physiology, and not to be confounded with it, except by again begging the very question at issue. 17. (1.) This last remark serves to introduce the first great distinction to which I would advert between matter, however or- ganized, and mind the fact that the phenomena of matter are 17* 198 MAN. learned by outward observation, while those of mind are learned only by consciousness. " These two regions lie entirely without each other, so much so, that there is not a single fact known by consciousness which we could ever have learned by observation, and not a single fact known by observation of which we are ever conscious. A sensation, for example, is known simply by con- sciousness ; the material conditions of it, as seen in the organ and the nervous system, simply by observation. No one could ever see a sensation, or be conscious of the organic action ; accordingly, the one fact belongs to psychology, the other to physiology."* Now the broad line of distinction between the two sciences here apparent, is the essential distinction between sub- ject and object. And hence it is that physiology itself as a science presupposes, and is indebted for its scientific form to, that conscious subject whose nature forbids it to be observed. Let the physiologist write down only what lie sees, and he will find himself in possession merely of an assemblage of facts or ob- jects, without any internal relation or bond of union. Surely the power which classifies these separate materials, and unites them all into a single fact, is not itself connatural with the materials. 18. (2.) The phenomena which observation brings to light are only instruments and organs, while consciousness reveals a force or cause. The only conception which I have of cause or power, I derive primarily from the exercise of my own will in moving some part of my body. In accomplishing such a move- ment, I am conscious (as stated in a previous chapter) of more than a mere sequence, of volition and personal effort, and of an event as the result of the causal effort. And having thus gained our notion of causality from the consciousness of our own per- sonal effort, we transfer the notion to all the changes observable in matter. These changes or effects necessarily presuppose the cause which produces them. When, therefore, the material physiologist affirms that he has the same proof that the brain secretes thought as he has that the liver secretes bile, and that the stomach digests food, we have not only to remind him of the threefold reply to this assumption already given, we hare now to add, in direct opposition to his statement, that the liver does not secrete, nor the stomach digest, any more than the eye sees, or the hand feels. To suppose that they do, is to confound con- dition with cause, the instrument with the force which employs * " MorelPs Hist, of Modern Philosophy," Vol. I. 406. DEVELOPMENT. 199 it. Organization is not the cause of life, but only its instrument, for life precedes it. The hand is not the cause of its own mo- tions, but only the organ of that spiritual force, the will ; and as an organized body is only the instrument of the living principle which employs it, and the movement of the hand manifests the cause or power by which it is moved, so the action of the stom- ach, the mere place and organ of digestion, manifests a cause, of which digestion is the effect. The only difference in the two cases is, that in the movement of my hand I am conscious of being myself the cause, while in digestion and all those physical processes which proceed irre- spectively of my consciousness and will, the pervading activity of the great Sustaining will is presupposed. Wherever there is movement there is power. When, therefore, the materialist af- firms that thought results solely from the movement of the brain, he evades or overlooks the great question at issue, What moves the brain ? The movement itself is not power, but the effect of it. Gravitation itself is not power or force, but only the law, according to which the Moving Force is pleased to regulate the movements of matter ; and hence it supposes, even in the eye of science, a primary impulse, at least. It is the aim of enlightened science to push its inquiries, in its several departments, until it has reached the point which touches, or is impressed by, that Prime spiritual force. It is the office of enlightened piety to acknowledge and adore that Force as a pervading Presence. In the voluntary movements of man's own material frame, con- sciousness gives him the proof of a spiritual power of his own adequate to produce them ; and in all the processes of nature by which he is surrounded instinctive, animate, and inanimate reason gives him a Divine cause which pervades, as it once originated, the whole. 19. (3.) All material properties and processes give us the idea of space, but nothing that we know of the properties and affections of the mind sustains any such spacial relations. We speak of matter as extended and divisible ; or as endowed with certain properties of attraction and repulsion, as occupying cer- tain portions of space, and capable of moving in it, so that its parts thereby assume different relative positions and configura- tions. And this description is as applicable to organized matter as it is to unorganized, and therefore, to the brain; and hence we can speak of its form, its parts, its color, weight, and con- sistence. And if it should be proved to be a galvanic battery, we may be able to point the course which the subtle process 200 MAN. takes, and the chemical changes which it produces. But mind is the negation of all this, and resists every effort to be brought within the terms of such a description. To speak of the con- figuration of a hope, or of the infinite divisibility of a thought, of the angle of a doubt, or of the easterly direction of a fear, is felt to be utterly absurd. And the only satisfactory manner of accounting for this sense of absurdity is the conclusion that thought and feeling are not material products ; that mind is, in a material sense, unconditioned by space. " But neither can you speak of the top or bottom of a moving power, or of the vital principle." Admitted, we reply, and for the reason previously assigned, that these are properties of Mind. They are effects. Matter is only employed by the Producing cause as the means of their manifestation. And this remark includes a reply to the further objection sometimes urged by the materialist, that as mind is related to matter, it is capable, like matter, of being lo- calized, and may, therefore, partake of the same nature. But this, again, is to assume the very point in dispute, by comparing a subjective relation with a material object. Like the vital principle, mind is related to matter ; but who can conceive of the top or bottom of a relation ? It will be time enough to consider further the subject of the localization of mind when philosophy has determined the nature of the relation of the Creating mind to matter, or even when physiology has discovered the relation of life to organization. 20. (4.) The material phrenologist can present us only with a plurality of cerebral organs ; but how does such multiplicity of parts consist with that unity and individuality of self of which every man is conscious?* If something in common to * "But (says the materialist) a planaria from our ponds maybe cut into ten pieces, and each become a perfect animal ; does be then* acquire ten minds, or personalities ?" On tbe one band, the spiritualist cannot be reasonably expected to admit a mere physiological curiosity as a grave set-off against a great fact of human consciousness : nor, on 'the other, is the materialist, it is presumed, prepared to admit the alternative to which his use of the fact would seem to conduct him namely, that in the pla- naria, both mind, and the means of mind, are vastly superior to the same in man, for the planarian method of mental multiplication (he mind what it may) is a distinction to Avhich man cannot pretend. Doubtless the truth is, that mind, in the planaria, is such as barely suffices for instinctive animal motion ; and that it has no intelligent consciousness of identity about which any question can be justly raised. To speak of personality in such a connection is an abuse of language. And to attempt to argue from the mere power of instinctive emotion in a polype to the profoundest depths of man's consciousness, is no compliment to reason. Even life is DEVELOPMENT. 201 all the organs is supposed to unite them into one being, that unitive something is the very power in dispute ; especially, too, as that is the only power which makes itself to be felt, or of which we are conscious. Or if the materialist, repudiating the theory of a plurality of organs, regards the entire brain as a single organ, of which thought is the function, the same question returns in a slightly altered form what can that power be which, withholding the property of thought from every separate particle of die brain, imparts it to the whole ; and which, not- withstanding the greatest diversity among the sensations them- selves, imparts unity to the whole ? The only reply which satisfies the consciousness is, that the power sought for is that spiritual substance which I call myself, which cannot be numer- ically divided, nor be resolved into physical parts, and by which alone we gain the idea of perfect unity. 21. (5.) Still stronger does the demand for this spiritual principle become when the constant change of the particles, of which the brain is composed, is contrasted with that feeling of personal identity of which we never cease to be conscious. It is no adequate reply to say, that " all the properties of the body remain the same through life," nor to say, that " if the face is marked with small-pox, the pits remain throughout life." For the question relates, not to the indestructibility either of proper- ties or of form, but to identity of substance. A true analogy is wanting. If it be said, further, that the particles which are passing away communicate to those by which they are succeed- ed, the impressions which external objects originally made on themselves, it should be sufficient to reply, that this is a process entirely unknown, both to physiology and to consciousness. But the very hypothesis itself calls back, and leaves unanswered, the ever-recurring difficulty, what that principle, unknown to physiology, can be, which is said to endow the departing parti- cles with this mysterious power. An appeal to reason 'assures us that the identical and indivisible oneness which we feel, as it is utterly foreign to matter, must be an attribute of a different substance. And consciousness, the only appropriate, and the ultimate authority here, affirms the decision, giving us to feel that the substance, which is I, will remain the same in the whole circuit of my being ; and that it is this feeling of personal iden- tity which makes me capable of rising to the conception of the essentially Immutable. not, in the same sense, divisible by ten in man. How is it divisible in the worm ? for it is a principle distinct from organization, and precedes it. 202 MAN. 22. (6.) Contrary to all our experience of what we know to be a material instrumentality, there is a power within us uncon- scious and incapable of fatigue. Certain exercises of the mind, such as continuous thought and emotion, induce exhaustion and weariness, for in these it employs an organization which requires rest. But the individual will is perfectly insusceptible of fatigue. In its volitions, the mind asserts its proper spirituality. As far as material help is concerned, the will acts from itself. It discloses the fact, that in itself the mind is an energy, and the source of untiring energy. It soon exhausts the muscular system placed at its disposal, but only suspends its purposes while its wearied servant sleeps, to weary it out again in the execution of them when it awakes. Often it forbids thought, that the body may repose. And often it is impatient at the repose necessary, indignant that its servant should be so unlike itself. Obviously, this easily tired servant cannot be the cause of the untiring intelligent will. The will and it have, beyond a certain point, separate natures, pleasures, and ends ; and hence the indomitable will not unfrequently compels it to under- go privation and pain in its service, and even offers it up as a sacrifice. 23. (7.) Man's expectation of immortality comes indirectly in confirmation of the spirituality of the soul. Its immaterial- ity, indeed, cannot be deduced directly from its immortality, except on the untenable supposition that spirit is inherently and absolutely indestructible. That the human spirit is naturally indestructible, as " the Father of spirits" has chosen to consti- tute it, we have already expressed our conviction. But we also believe that the spiritual nature might have been mortal, and the material, and therefore the animal, immortal, had it so pleased the Creating will. If, however, the doctrine of the soul's immortality be first accepted on independent grounds, it will surely be allowed that the idea of a spiritual principle, as the heir of that immortality, better accords with our views of such a state, than that of any mere material organization. Here, too, is boundless scope for that personal identity which we have found to be one of the exponents of a spiritual sub- stance. And here the ideas of accountability and of future retribution find a congenial place phenomena which seem inexplicable on the supposition of an assemblage of mere ma- terial properties, for they imply, not only a deep consciousness of dependent existence, but also a nature kindred with that of the Infinite Spirit, and the possibility, if not the prospect, of DEVELOPMENT. 203 alliance with it for ever. Our investigation, then, brings us to^ the conclusion, that matter and mind, as known to us by their" properties, are negations of each other, and that mind is an immaterial spiritual substance. 24. Mind, we have seen, must be conceded, in some sense, to the animal creation, (though not, on that account, immortal- ity) ; and hence the question arises respecting those character- istics of the human mind by which it is distinguished from, and proves its superiority to, the mind of the mere animal. In order to form an opinion on this subject, we must recur to the physiology of the nerves. We have seen that, besides the un- conscious nerves of life, or the sympathetic system of which we have not now to speak, there is the sensitive system, conducting to the brain, and also the motor system, proceeding from the brain to the muscular organs fitted for action. Now, the effect directly consequent on sensation is perception, a notice or knowledge of the object occasioning the sensation ; and the effect consequent on perception is volition, or that mental act which immediately determines the motor nerves to muscular action. Here, then, is a circle of operations which apparently takes place whenever an animal acts in reference to external objects sensation, perception, volition, muscular activity. But does this circle include the whole of the process belonging to the animal mind? In the human mind, one additional link, at least, intervenes between perception and volition. To this link we give the name, not of understanding, but of reason, by which we mean the power which the mind has of apprehending ulti- mate and necessary truth, of contemplating the ideal relations of things so as to be able to deduce universal truths from par- ticular appearances, preparatory to willing and determining in harmony with such truths. So that the question to be decided may be put thus : Is the volition of brutes determined without the intervention of reason ? For if it be, it follows that the vo- lition of the animal is constrained, and is therefore the expres- ion of a will in no proper sense free ; that the human mind, be- sides differing from the animal mind in degree up to a certain point, beyond that point differs from it also in kind ; and that the end which the human being is designed for may be expect- ed to correspond with his superior endowments. 25. In stating the grounds of our conviction that the animal volition is determined necessarily, and not by reason, it may conduce to clearness if we glance at the different classes of in- stinctive phenomena. By some, instinct and life are regarded 204 MAN. as co-extensive. Such persons would denominate all the un- conscious motions of mere organic life, of the sympathetic nerves, as instinctive. These instincts might be called vital. Next come the adaptive, or those which call into action the muscles considered to be under the control of volition. Such are the beautiful and perfect nest-building of birds, and the mathematical cell-making of bees. These constitute the great class of actions, allowed on almost all hands to be strictly in- stinctive ; and whose direct tendency is to the continuance of animal existence. And yet, as far as the animal is promoting this object, it is evidently acting towards an end which is un- known to itself; and, therefore, acting blindly. Agreeably to Paley's definition of instinct, it is acting " prior to experience, and independent of instruction," and, we might add, acting with a perfection which no instruction could teach, and no experience improve. But thirdly, there are those actions whieh appear to be the result of experience, and which discover a power of selecting means for proximate ends according to varying cir- cumstances ; these may be said to be mental. These are the phenomena which claim our attention ; for to this class belong those instances of animal sagacity, at the recital of which every- one has been more or less interested. Now, even allowing, as we do, some mental act to intervene, in such cases, between perception and volition, our conviction is that such intermediate act or operation does not belong to reason. If the bird for example, on perceiving that the rising stream is approaching its half-finished nest, begins to build higher up the bank, it does but build on the spot where it would have placed its nest at first, had the waters then been as high as they have since become ; and the end in both cases is the same the continuance of the species. Here is only an instance of the provisional operation of instinct. Again, actions are some- times related of animals, to which human sagacity would be unequal, simply because they afford no scope for reasoning. All such must be evidently referred either to an instinctive in- telligence, or (which would be proving to much) to the exercise of a reason superior to that of man. The same must be said of the power which some animals possess hereditarily of perform- ing certain remarkable feats. Knowledge, the result of expe- rience, is not transmissible in this way. The reasoning in such instances, if there were any, being destitute of data, could be nothing less than a profound train of a priori speculation. The most wonderful feats of animal sagacity, perhaps, are the result DEVELOPMENT. 205 of human instruction; and merely evince the adaptiveness, within certain fixed and narrow limits, of the mental instinct Even the plant has a confined power of adapting itself to cir- cumstances. Nor is there any ground to conclude that the su- perior adaptiveness of animal instinct is accompanied with any intelligent consciousness of its possession. 26. Among the presumptive proofs against the rationality of ' brutes, it is, we think, justly alleged that their experience, con- fined at most within narrow limits, is incapable of accumulation and transmission ; that they practice nothing approaching to barter ; and especially, that they are destitute of the power of speech. To say that they have voices, or inarticulate language, adequate to the indication of certain appetites and passions, only- increases the force of this last reason. For how unlikely is it that they would be endowed with the means of expressing animal feelings, and be denied the power of imparting ideas, supposing them to have ideas to impart. To say, again, that the animal is not entirely denied the organs of speech, still fur- ther serves our purpose. That some animals, especially birds, have at least imperfect organs of speech is evident, for* they can be taught to speak ; and the only reason which can be assigned why they do not utter a single untaught sentence of their own is, that they have not a single thought to express. For " in a question respecting the possession of reason, the absence of all proof is tantamount to a proof of the contrary." 27. But while these considerations impel us to the conclusion that, in the mental process of the animal, reason does not inter- vene between its perceptions and volitions, they forcibly indi- cate what may or does intervene namely, the operation of appetites, passions, habits, and the passive memory or associa- tions of past impressions. To the expression of these alone, its sounds and signs are adequate ; and of these alone we be- lieve it to be conscious. As sensation issues in perception, perception awakens desire or attachment, aversion or anger, fear, or the operation of habit, or some past impression or mental association ; the influence of these again determine the volitions necessarily, and determine them differently according as they act feebly or powerfully, singly or in combination ; while the volitions, so determined, issue in corresponding mus- cular action.* The only will, properly speaking, which is here * The subject of animal instinct is considered at greater length in the " Pre- Adamite Earth." It was necessary, however, to give a condensed 18 206 MAN. manifested is the Creating will in its divine appointments, ex- pressing themselves in laws of which the animal knows nothing, and over which it has no control ; and hence our treatment of it as irresponsible. 28. We have now prepared the way for showing that the human mind differs from the animal mind partly in degree and partly in kind. The infant human being and the animal both appear to start from the same point of instinct ; both advance together across the line of sensational perception, into that sphere where the desires are excited, the passions gratified, where means are sought adapted to these ends, and where as- sociations of past impressions are formed unconsciously, and return unsought. But here their companionship terminates. Indeed, immediately on crossing this line the divergence begins. In the animal, the mind subserves the body; in the human being, the body is made to subserve the mind. He can re-fleet. He can look at his desire, and question it. He, the subject, can become his own object. He becomes conscious of desires which the wide world cannot gratify. For the animal, the point of starting is not more fixed than is its goal ; and only a few steps separate the two. But for the human being there is no goal ; before him stretches a prospect without a horizon. In that direction infinity lies, and all is open. 29. Already, then, man has entered a domain where the faint and flickering light of the animal understanding is eclipsed. All beyond and above is his own "a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen" and he travels it alone. In the brightening ascent of mind, man leaves behind him whole classes of animals at every step ; till, having reached the sphere of the true reason, he finds himself not merely alone, but enthroned, on a height. The inferior parts of his own nature are carried up with him. The appetites become virtues, and the social affections, religion. The loftiest summit of creation no longer ends in a machine, but in a will, whose freedom renders it a representative of the Divine will. Here too, the sacred domain of conscience is all his own, a realm of invisible life, which draws its breath direct from heaven. And, here, instead of instinctive signs, and inarticulate sounds, words, the new messengers of thoughts and feelings equally new, wing their way from soul to soul, and from earth view of it here, in order to be able to estimate the superiority of the human mind. DEVELOPMENT. 207 to heaven parts of the great hymn of language which is des- tined to receive additions from every age, and to reach its chorus in the Name of God. 30. And the end which the human being is designed to an- swer corresponds with his superior constitution. Here, again, our theory supplies us with the means of drawing the line which separates the animal from the human being. The animal has an end to answer, to preserve its own life and to perpetuate its kind. To the accomplishment of this end all its natural actions unconsciously tend ; for the end is proposed by the same Infi- nite intelligence as proposes ends for all the laws of nature. Even the limited adaptive power which it unknowingly exhibits is only the slightly diversified application and perseverance of instinct in gaining its own great end. Man shares with the animal in answering this end. But while it is the great and the only end with the animal, with man it is merely a medial end means to an ultimate end immeasurably beyond. To the at- tainment of that end he can voluntarily subordinate and sanctify even his instincts ; while everything which leads directly to it, he enjoys alone. Though standing in the midst of mere nature he towers above it. As a free intelligence he is super-terres- trial, and can raise the earthly, infer the unknown, anticipate the future, and choose the ultimate. Instead of living only in the present, he can " look before and after," and consciously become the vital link of the two. Instead of gathering his en- joyments from the dust, he can erect himself, and reach for them to heaven. He has faculties for which he has no other use. Ascending from his appetites to a well-regulated self-love, he can rise to an all-embracing disinterested affection, and thence to a lofty sense of duty which places him in emulation with celestial natures. " Like natures must have like enjoy- ments ;" and as his holy will is akin to the will of God, he aims at a like happiness ; aspires to live for the very same end as that for which God himself lives and reigns the manifestation of the Divine glory. 31. In proportion to the superiority of man's constitution, the resources of pre-existing nature were disclosed, and its relations advanced. In man himself, indeed, all its great laws, mechan- ical, organic, and animal, were summed up, and attained per- fection. Art is not so much the representation of nature as of nature's design. And "man expresses the ultimate goal or purpose of nature's design." Accordingly, he appears on the earth as a being for whose coming all nature had been precon- 208 MAN. figured. His ear only had been wanting to discover that its sounds were music. Classes of animals, since domesticated, had awaited his sway, and developed new qualities under it. He is their melior natura, the mediator for lower natures, and his influence over them a perpetual benediction. They look up to him, and he carries the look up to God. Everything now began to stand for something above itself. Literally, " truth sprang out of the earth." Nature was no longer an outside show. Its great symbolism had found an interpreter. Its ob- jects supplied the mind with images for ideal conceptions ; and forthwith passed into human language. Nature was indulged by man's presence, and exalted. Ordained " without hands," he was its minister and high-priest. The great temple in which he served was filled with emblems of the Divine Presence. As he walked to the altar, the proofs of goodness lay profusely in his path ; and the light by which he ministered was a symbol of purity. Nature had kept no sabbath ; but heavenly days were now to be intercalated ; and, through his lips, " everything that had breath was to praise the Lord." Providence no longer limits its cares to " the lilies of the field " or to the fowls of the air ; " henceforth it charges itself with the well-being of a creature, " how much better than they ! " Even " Righteousness looks down from heaven ; " and descends to govern him. Physical laws are promoted into a moral discipline. The kingdoms of nature have, in a sense unknown before, become the kingdom of our God. Life has become a religion. " Lord, what is man ! Thou hast crowned him with glory and honor ! " CHAPTER VI. ACTIVITY. 1. WE regard it as a law of creation, " that everything man- ifests all that it is calculated to exhibit of the Divine Nature, by developing, or working out its own nature." A creation devoid of regulated activity would be no manifestation of an ever-living and ever-active Creator. It is only by a universe of activity that He can be manifested to whose activity the uni- verse owes its existence. Still more may an active nature be ACTIVITY. 209 expected in that order of creatures whose distinction it is to be, that not only by them, but to them, the manifestation will be made. For such activity may be looked for in them if only to help them to understand, by sympathy, the same property in the Divine Nature. Accordingly, man is constituted a self- regulating force, pressing like the power of a spring on every resistance, and requiring unlimited time and space for the de- velopment of his energies. Everything within him and around him indicates that he is designed to occupy a sphere of activity which circumscribes, and indefinitely exceeds, every sphere of activity known to the prior creation. 2. Every part of the bodily frame circulates more or less rapidly. " At every moment," says Liebig, " with every expi- ration, parts of the body are removed, and are emitted into the atmosphere." The motion of any one part of the body involves the motion of every other part. The mechanism of certain parts admits of action more instantaneous than the quickest suggestion of the will. 3. But man was made for voluntary external action. This is evident, on the one hand, from the fact that a state of inac- tivity is soon attended with a sense of uneasiness. Standing still quickly tires. Properly speaking, there is no standing still ; " the action of standing, consists, in fact, of a series of small and imperceptible motions, by which the centre of gravity is perpetually shifted from one part of the base to another." Besides which, the mechanical properties of the living frame soon suffer deterioration, if they lie idle ; the power of the mus- cles diminish, and the strength of resistance in its bones and tendons degenerate. On the other hand, activity develops the physical structure, augments its power, and is attended, as the playful motions of the young of all animals show, with muscu- lar pleasure. 4. The appetites are regularly urging us to activity in order to their gratification. Mere sensations, or impressions from without, may be pleasurable ; but as if to prevent their ter- minating in themselves, or detaining us from activity, they re- quire to be frequently varied. " The continuance of an im- pression on any one organ, occasions it to fade." Let the eye look steadfastly on one object, and the image is soon lost. The senses themselves require to have their reports compared, and mutually corrected ; thus keeping the mind on the alert, and involving its activity. Perception, reflection, and reasoning, all suppose attention either to external or internal phenomena; 18* 210 MAN. and attention is the mind in an active state. We know only as we act. Our notions of time, space, and all their modifica- tions, involve a certain activity of mind. Activity is the con- dition of all knowledge. What, also, is the object of emotion, but action ? What is the office of volition, but to determine the direction our activity shall take? What the design of con- science, but to indicate the course which it ought to take ? 5. Let us pass from the constitution of man to the constitu- tion of the world around him, and to which he is preconfigured. . Here, we find, " all things full of labor ; " thus sympathizing with his own susceptibilities of activity, as well as inviting and inciting him to it. That sensibility to the varieties of temper- ature, which is seated in the skin, is, the physiologist informs us, a never-failing excitement to activity, and a constant source of enjoyment. Those objects which appeal to man's appetites, promise gratification only on the condition of his muscular exer- tion to appropriate them. A world of raw material surrounds him. Nature sells everything good, and effort is the price. As a social being, his affections are kept in constant play to provide for the safety, comfort, and well-being of their objects. As an intelligent being, the objects of knowledge lie around him in apparent disorder. If he would perceive, he must approach them ; if understand, he must compare them ; if reason, he must arrange and classify them ; if believe, he must call for and examine the necessary evidence. The physical points him forwards to the metaphysical ; and from phenomena he finds himself beckoned onwards to the reality of ultimate facts. Every relation which he discovers, and every law which he ver- ifies, proclaims his patient activity, and is its precious fruit. Even his knowledge of duty is not a spontaneous growth, but comes to him as the result of consideration, and has to be guarded with jealous care. While, as the subject of emotion, objects and events are constantly awakening fresh susceptibili- ties, and thus making him known to himself. 6. The power of volition with which man is endowed is never allowed to rest ; for he finds himself constantly solicited by dif- ferent objects, or attempting to master the difficulties which lie in his path. If the difficulty relate to an object of knowledge, spontaneously the mind tasks its power to pierce the obscurity. And this effort is " a concentration upon one point of forces before diffused." According to Spinoza, indeed, action is only another name for goodness, and passion for evil ; and the only difference between the good man and the bad is, that the former ACTIVITY. 211 has a greater power of action in him than the latter. But, re- jecting this extreme and one-sided view, it is unquestionable that this power is essential to virtue. Man is a cause, and is constantly acting under the conviction that, amidst all the exter- nal influences which surround him, he has the power of reaction and self-regulation. These opposing external agents are neces- sary in order to acquaint him with his own causative power, and to develop it. Even Fichte, while denying a material uni- verse, had to suppose an ideal objective, in order to afford a sphere of activity to the subjective. He admits that it is only by such means that we can " place before us, as object, the end and aim of our existence." On the faith of our consciousness, however, we find ourselves placed in the midst of a real object- ive. And in this external sphere, everything in turn appeals to our causative power, and challenges us to exercise it. Calls to vigilance, gratitude, and usefulness, appeal to our sense of obligation ; and make activity a duty, and a means of moral excellence. 7. Without object or impulse, every part of our active nature would soon be lost to us, or rather, would never be known to us. But with these, that active power is disclosed to us ; by exercise it is increased ; difficult and occasional acts become easy and confirmed habits ; physical weakness is replaced by muscular strength ; ignorance by knowledge ; and a mere sense of duty grows into a course of intelligent and delighted obedi- ence. Thus, activity is a law of our nature, and the condition of its development. How impressively was this fact disclosed to the first man on the day of his creation. The fruits and luxuriance of paradise were not a dispensation from labor, but a call to it ; for there his Maker placed him " to till it, and to keep it." His intel- lectual powers were called into exercise by the task assigned him, to observe, compare, and give appropriate names to the animals ; while his moral nature probably received its first im- pulse, and was quickened into a state of activity, from which it has never since ceased, by the sovereign interdict of the proba- tionary tree. He was no sooner made, than every great part of his nature was put into motion by an appropriate impulse from the hand of God ; and in that activity he became conscious of his own faculties, and began to develop them. But if activity be thus a law of our nature, how hopeless is the task of some in aiming to combine happiness and inactivity ! How infatuated those who regard the enjoyment of the heavenly 212 MAN. world as consisting in luxurious indolence ! The rest of heaven is a calm opposed, not to activity, but to suffering. Relative to the activity of "the living creatures," the many-winged and myriad-eyed symbols of the highest celestial life, it is said, that " they rest not." The perpetual striving after self-development, the struggle to bring into actual existence all that lies poten- tially in our nature, which here encounters so many obstacles, is there resumed, and resumed under advantages which are here unknown. Every step there is advance in the ever-present light of distant, yet approachable, perfection. Heaven is a state of greater enjoyment, and progress in excellence, than earth, partly because of its superior scope for activity. CHAPTER VII. RELATIONS. 1. WE seem warranted to expect " that the process of the Divine disclosure into which man has come will be carried on by a system of means, or of medial relations." For, in no other way, as far as we know, can we be brought to conceive of the relation which the Creator himself sustains to his own creation. And, if the creation is designed to answer an end, it is only as every part of it sustains a relation to that end, and, therefore, to every other part a relation of mutual dependence and influence that the end can be attained. Now the com- plicated and universal activity of the human being discloses a system of relations, not merely equal to all the relations of the pre-existing creation, but indefinitely exceeding them. Abso- lute division or isolation is, here, impossible. Our attention no sooner fixes on a given faculty or function, than we find it to be an indivisible part of an all-related aggregate united in the integrity of the living man. 2. Relations exist between the various parts of his physical, his organic, and his animal systems respectively, and between these three considered mutually and collectively. Each part is sympathetically and really united to the other two, nor can either of them act or suffer without the others being consen- taneously affected. A change in one part would render neces- RELATIONS. 218 sary the re-construction of the whole. In our examination of his mental constitution, we found that his sentient nature is the consequence of a system of relations between his mind and the bodily organs and nervous apparatus assigned for its use ; while every sensation involves a corresponding perception. Reflection discloses a new world of purely mental relations, or between one state of mind and another. But though purely mental themselves, they owe their conscious existence to sen- tient and percipient states. Each power supposes a conse- quent; each susceptibility an antecedent. Reason brings to light a yet profounder system of relations, having necessary truth for their object. The laws of causation, successiveness, and resemblance, presuppose these ultimate relations, and de- pend on them by a logical necessity. Theory without induc- tion is a fancy ; induction or facts without theory, a useless un- connected mob of materials. If imagination retires within itself to think with closed senses, it is only as memory waits on it, and supplies it with materials, that it can select from them, and re-construct new events and worlds. Language, as we have seen, involves relations between the organs of voice and the nerves, which combine them in one simultaneous act between these and the articulate sounds uttered between these, again, and the mind which employs them as signs of separate internal conceptions and between these conceptions, when combined, and the language which expresses that com- bination. Each of the innumerable emotions, by which the mind is kept in constant play, is related directly or indirectly to a mental state as the exciting cause. Every volition pre- supposes a motive, and, at the same time, sustains a relation to man's moral nature as a movement which ought, or ought not to be, while reflection gives him the perception of those rela- tions from which conscience receives its sense of obligation. 3. So intimate is the union between the mind and the body, that a slight derangement of the latter will often impede the exercise of the former, or fill it with groundless apprehensions ; while grief, expectation, or profound attention, will render the body insensible to its ordinary wants. According to Liebig, every conception, every mental affection is followed by changes in the chemical nature of the secreted fluids. Form and fea- tures often impart a character to the mind, and a bias to the life ; on the other hand, the mental and moral character often impress themselves on some part of the outward form. Aristotle treated at some length on the shades of the hair, the form of the 214 MAN. features, the complexion, and of the different parts of the body, as indicative of particular temperaments and mental character- istics. Indeed, it is on the assumption of the conformity between the soul and the body, that cheiromancy, physiognomy, and phre- nology, have, at different times, essayed to take the rank of sciences. And so intimate is the union of the moral nature of man with tlje other parts of his constitution, that conscience has been represented at different times as a modification of nearly every one of these parts ; duty has been based on considerations derived from each ; and virtue and utility, though essentially distinct, regarded as ultimately one. " The coincidence of mo- rality with individual interest is an important truth in ethics." Now these are only some of the more obvious relations existing between the continuous parts of his nature, yet no mind, except that of the Infinite, can comprehend the number which they potentially comprise. But each of these, again, is associated with all the rest by relations more subtle and complicated still, so that, no part can be touched, however lightly, but the whole being vibrates in sympathy. 4. In addition to these, the human constitution exhibits rela- tions successively existent. We speak not now of the relation of generation to generation, nor even of that between parent and child, but of the connection between the successive periods of the same human being. By the faculty of memory he is enabled to retain the knowledge he has acquired, to recall former im- pressions, and to live the past over again. Every voluntary act tends to the formation of habit ; thus increasing his power of action for all the future. Every word uttered, every emotion cherished, alters J;he relation of the man's character for the whole of futurity. Even if it could be shown that some of his emo- tions and volitions pass from his memory never to be recovered, they do not pass from his character. They blend with his moral, if they escape from his intellectual nature. But it is more than probable judging from well attested facts related of persons in fever and delirium that the memory never loses entirely anything which has been once given into its charge ; that, in a certain state, it can give up, as from the dead, everything of which the mind had ever been conscious. Here is continuity of moral being of the highest order continuity with accumu- lation. Not only is the last moment of his history connected with the first, his character of to-day is carried on to the account of his character of to-morrow ; so that his character at the last is the sum of all the past. And thus he is at once adapted to RELATIONS. 215 the progressiveness of the scheme into which he has come, and is a representative of it. His own nature is a constitution a system of self-relations distinct from the constitution of things around it, though in entire accordance with it. 5. Passing from man's relations to himself, we have to specify next some of his relations to the objective universe. " The hand of God," remarks lord Kames, " is nowhere more visible than in the nice adjustment of our internal frame to our situation in this world." The period of man's creation was relative to the physical condition of the globe. Constituted as man now is, the condition of the earth during the earlier geological formations would have been incompatible with his continued existence. And as the first remains of races of annuals now extinct reveal the prevail- ing condition of the earth at the time of their existence, so the commencement of the human race and the physical conditions of the globe were in strict co-relation. In a similar manner the different classes of animals which co-exist with him, are so many related parts of a great whole. 6. The relations which man sustains to the atmosphere, and to everything of which the atmosphere is a medium, are innu- merable. The first impulse given to his lungs, and therefore the first moment of what may be called his independent life, depend on the air. The sensibility of his skin is related to the tem- perature. The agency of light is related to the production and to the taste of his food, to his activity, and consequently to his knowledge, his cheerfulness, and his moral character. Day and night alternate in his frame. The motion of the air maintains him in health. Electricity pervades him. And water, besides en- tering into his physical composition to a degree which imparts to it about three-fourths of the whole weight, is an indispensable element of hie life. Equally manifold are man's relations to the mineral kingdom. Even the constitution of the atmosphere, just referred to, materially depends on it. The strength of his bones, and the power of his muscles, bear a proportion to the mass of the earth, as this again depends on its magnitude and density. The supply of some of his simplest wants depends on the distribution, and the relative proportions, of sea and land. The dark and central depths of the earth, where the lamp of the miner will never shed a ray, as well as the geological arrange- ment and physical character of some of the superficial strata, bear a relation to every step he takes, every breath he draws, and every comfort he enjoys. Hunger impels him to look abroad 216 MAN. for food ; and the vegetable and animal kingdoms minister to the gratification of his appetite. As his powers are developed and his civilization advances, he multiplies his relations with every department of nature indefinitely. Discovery after discovery enlarges his horizon, and widens his domain. This part of the subject, however, belongs to the historical portion of our series. 7. As man is a sentient being, he has organs which place him in percipient relations to all the objects of external nature. By the organ of touch, he is related especially to solid bodies ; by taste, to liquid ; by smell, to gaseous ; by hearing, to the at- mospheric medium ; and by sight, to objects beyond the region of the air to the distant worlds of light. How exquisite the relation between the subject and the object that light, for ex- ample, whether resulting from the movement of an elastic ether, or emanating from celestial bodies, at such vast distances that thousands of years shall elapse during its progress to the earth, and yet that, impelled by a force equal to its transmission through this space, it should enter the eye, and strike upon the delicate nerve with no other effect than to produce vision !" And although the nature of the connection between the object presented in any given instance, and the sensation occasioned, is utterly inexpli- cable, yet are they so indissolubly united that the knowledge of the object thus obtained is attended with an absolute conviction of its reality. The too ideal philosophy of a Schelling regards the subject and the object, the percipient and perceived, as even identical. While Hegel, proceeding yet a step further in his analysis, represents the only reality as the relation itself to which they both owe their existence. The bare possibility of such views denotes, at least, the perfection of the relation which combines together the subject and the object, and imparts a sublime idea of that Power which has thus wrought the worlds of matter and of mind into the unity of a single system. 8. Man's reflective power places him in, at least, a twofold relation to the objective universe. By one of its laws, objects which have been present to his mind before, often recall, when they occur again, not merely the single objects with which they were formerly associated, but long trains and progressions of thought. So that, besides the objective world of the present mo- ment, he is in effect attended by the worlds of the past. Every- day has its own objects and events which distinguish it from every other day ; every day, therefore, has its own world ; yet the mind retains its relation to each, takes them all on with it, and may thus virtually inhabit a number of worlds in quick sue- RELATIONS. 217 cession. By another of its laws it sustains a very similar rela- tion to the future. The mind confidently expects the same sequences in the future which it has observed in the past. And this universal expectation of the subjective mind, is universally responded to by objective nature. "In the instinctive, the univer- sal faith of Nature's constancy," says Dr. Chalmers, "we behold a promise. In the actual constancy of Nature, we behold its fulfilment." God " hath not only enabled man to retain in his memory a faithful transcript of the past ; but, by means of this constitutional tendency, this instinct of the understanding, as it has been termed, to look with prophetic eye upon the future. It is the link by which we connect experience with anticipation." 9. The relation of adjustment established between the reason of man, and the necessary truths embodied and implied in the external universe is equally apparent. In the mixed mathe- matics, the mind having ascended analytically from the obser- vation of external phenomena to general principles, can then retire into itself, and reason synthetically from these principles downwards to phenomena which it has never observed, but which subsequent observation will infallibly verify. In the pure mathe- matics, let the mind arrive by a single observation at the simplest conception of quantity or number, and then, shutting itself up in its own recesses, it can reason out a number of conclusions, to the truth of which external nature is found subsequently to re- spond. By observation alone, these conclusions would never have been arrived at ; how wonderful the relations, then, be- tween the mental and the material systems, that observation should subsequently verify these intellectual truths, though after the lapse of ages, it may be, and in the remotest parts of the material universe. In further illustration of the profound relation in which our intellectual processes stand to external nature, we might advert to the remarkable manner in which some natural object or inci- dental discovery is often found to be susceptible of extensive application to the affairs of life. The discovery of the telescope, and the observation of the polarity of the magnet, are examples in point. So also " the chief use of the moon for man's imme- diate purposes remained unknown to him for five thousand years from his creation."* Every department of modern science exhibits illustrations of the complicated and remote correspon- dences between the objective system and the preconceptions of * Sir John HerschelPs Discourse, p. 309. 19 218 MAN. the mind. Deduction and induction answer to each other. The arguments a priori and d posteriori require each other. Each kind of truth asks for its own kind of evidence, though all evi- dence is ultimately related. A truth requiring, in order to its discovery, a degree of elaboration and abstraction of which few are capable, is often found when elicited to admit of a number of useful applications to which all are competent. 10. The specific preferences which men show for different branches of knowledge, prove that, besides the general accord- ance existing between the subjective and the objective, there are special relations. All great works form a series. " One soweth, and another reapeth." In this division of labor, indeed, the laborers may be inclined to depreciate each other's particu- lar pursuit ; but, when it is found that, without any preconcerted scheme, the hewn and sculptured stones which they have brought from their respective quarries only need to be put together in order to form a magnificent temple of the most harmonious pro- portions, what a sublime view does it give us of the wisdom which, besides harmonizing the material with the material and the mental with the mental, includes the material and the men- tal creations in the harmony of one system. 11. Imagination invests man with a kind of creative power. Besides discovering laws, he can himself body forth ideas ; and this world appears to be studiously adapted for awakening, de- veloping, and giving them objective existence. It is a world already replenished with symbols and representations of the Di- vine ideas images of the beautiful, the proportionate, the graceful and the sublime ; and he feels that, so far from being strange and unknown to him, they are the mirrored forms of his own being. He might have been entirely destitute of the imaginative faculty, and then would a world of beauty have been unveiled to his eye in vain ; or else, though endowed with the power, the objects into the midst of which he came, might have presented more to repress than to stimulate the faculty. But he is surrounded by objects every one of which appeals, suggests, and incites. Varied as they are, they are suggestive of greater variety still. The Divine Mind has not exhausted the ideal in creation, and man is invited to unfold it yet further, and to draw out some of its still hidden forms. His art, indeed, is homogeneous with nature, but not limited by it. Multitudi- nous as the objects may be which appeal to his imagination, they do not distract nor depress. On the contrary, they enlarge the horizon of the mind, give it glimpses into other worlds, and RELATIONS. 219 dispose it to derive from thence additional creations. Nor, if the imagination is to have scope for its activity, must it be op- pressed by the inimitable perfection of external objects. Ac- cordingly, that perfection is of a nature to suggest an order of excellence beyond itself. Man can represent ideas which it would require a loftier state of being fully to realize ; and can entertain himself with visions of majesty and beauty beyond his power to reveal. Nor, if any of his visions are to take external form, must he be placed in a world all of whose materials are either too rigid to receive it, or too fluid to retain it, Accord- ingly, the substances placed at man's disposal are of a nature to conspire with the harmonies and glories of creation to invite him to an exercise of his skiD, and at the same time to teach him patience and humility while so employed. Comply with the knvs of nature he must, even while emulating her beauties. But let him fall in with these, and he will find himself complet- ing the suggestions of the Creating Mind in carrying out his own ideas. Nor can it be thought the least important of the laws which the imagination brings to light, that the more suc- cessful it is in mediating between the world of ideas and the world of sense, the less satisfied it becomes with its own revela- tions, and the more earnest in its aspirations after an excellence which " eye hath not seen." 12. Man's susceptibility of emotion gives rise to another sys- tem of relation between the subjective and the objective. Each sensibility within, has its own appropriate intonation in the world without. By a skilful combination of these sounds, a whole tale may be told to the feelings without the articulation of a word. To this part of our nature, all creation is vocal, often combining in a concert in which " everything that hath breath, praises the Lord." Similar are the relations traceable between our sensibilities and the objects of sight. " It is hardly possible to watch the night, and view the break of day, in a fine country, without being sensible that we have feelings, in sym- pathy with every successive change, from the first streak of light until the whole landscape is displayed in valleys, woods, and sparkling waters. The changes on the scene are not more rapid than the transitions of the feelings which attend them." And what a view does it open to man of his relation to all the past, when he reflects that the emotions which he experienced when last he looked on the face of nature, were connected with changes which took place in its formation an indefinite number of ages ago ! 220 MAN. Regard whatever part of man's nature we may, we find it the centre of a large circle of objects acting upon it. As an intellectual being, all nature acts on him as if it were a system of contrivances for the special design of engaging his attention, and educating his mind. As a social being, objects of affection throng around him, and keep his heart in constant activity. As a moral being, an object of a higher order reveals His relations to him, and moves the depths of his nature. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thy- self," was the law of the heart before it was the law of Sinai ; a law evidently implying that every object in the universe sus- tains a relation to us ; that the degree in which objects are to move us, or to engage our regard, is to be regulated by their value as a means of Divine manifestation ; that, as man ranks highest in this respect, he challenges our highest subordinate regard ; and that, by the same rule, the Being manifested, is to be loved supremely. Now, when we remember that through the whole of life our emotions are kept in constant play, and that every emotion has its counterpart object, what a system of rela- tions is disclosed to us ! But how fine, and exquisitely adjusted must these relations be when the great majority of the emotions excited are compatible with a state of mental tranquillity ! And how obvious and godlike their tendency when, according to that law of their operation we have noticed that the greatest and the best should move us the most the only effect would be that of constant assimilation to Infinite excellence, and closer relationship to Him ! 13. On turning our attention to the voluntary part of man's nature, our view of the relations between the subjective and the objective becomes still more impressive. We have seen that, by one system of nerves, communication is kept up between the external world and the indwelling mind, and that, by another, the mind reacts and determines to muscular action. In this way, the spiritual will comes out into external nature, and lit- erally finds the world given into its hand. We have seen, also, that, for every object of perception, the mind has a correspond- ing emotion. And it is certain that the object contemplated excites the emotion whether we will or not ; and thus touches the springs of our character and conduct. But it is equally certain that, by the command which the will gives us over the attention, we can withdraw our contemplation from one object, and fix it on another. We cannot determine what emotion an ob- ject shall excite in us ; but we can determine what object shall RELATIONS. 221 engage our attention, and how much it shall engage our attention ; and thus we become responsible for our feelings. We cannot determine what conviction any evidence shall produce in our minds ; but we can determine what attention we will give to it ; and thus we become responsible for our beliefs. At one time, we may be placed in visible relation to only a single object ; but, turning our regards from that, we may call for a thousand mental objects in rapid succession, and thus voluntarily put our- selves in emotional relation to them all. At another, mental objects may crowd into the view of the mind, but, to chase them all away, we may take into our hand some outward object, and, by fixing our attention upon it, determine the state of our minds. But, if we thus possess the power of choosing the objects which shall affect us, and the degree in which they shall affect us, how vitally important that our attention should be given to objects according to their importance in the scale of Divine manifesta- tion. That we do possess this power is implied in the law which we have already quoted that we love God supremely. Se- lecting Him for the object of its chief contemplation, the mind will take the sublime impression of his character. The view of his goodness will excite gratitude ; thoughts of his holiness will produce veneration ; the sight of his judgment-throne will inspire awe. The subjective will be as is the view of the ob- jective. And thus by voluntarily putting itself into communi- cation with superior excellence, the world without not only evolves the world within into a state of manifestation, but leaves on it traces of its transforming and exalting influence. 14. (1.) We have shown that in the very make of our moral constitution, virtue has a subjective world of its own ; but He who, in the language of the son of Sirach, " hath made all things double," hath placed in it vital connection with an objective arrangement, answering to it. A casual sight or sound, " the shaking of a leaf," may call forth from the depths of the con- science a loud and thrilling response. The poetic temperament recognizes the image of purity in the lily, and of humility in the violet, and the reflection of one virtue or another in every object of nature. To express sentiments of gratitude and adora- atiori, the musician calls forth and combines the richest and the loftiest sounds. To personify fortitude, wisdom, amiableness, justice, any of the virtues, the painter and the sculptor body forth the noblest forms and the highest order of physical beauty ; facts, which show that that is the true theory of Taste which derives it ultimately from morality ; and that He who has made 19* V V/ HT A vr ZZZ MAN. both the subjective and the objective, has so harmonized moral and material loveliness, as to typify and express the idea that " the First Good and the First Fair " are one. 15. (2.) If we ascend from material nature to social life, we shall find that there is not a virtue inscribed on the tablet of the conscience which society has not inscribed on its public tables, and for the exercise of which it does not loudly and constantly call. Compassion, truth, justice these are enshrined within ; and society builds them temples without, prepares them balances, or arms them with a sword, or erects for them thrones. 16. (3.) But conscience has higher objective relations yet. Our moral nature has a moral world of its own without, as much as our physical nature has an external physical world. The very fact that some have regarded virtue as entirely subjective, and some as entirely objective, furnishes strong presumptive evidence, at least, that there is a sense in which it is both, and that the two are intimately related. The truth is, that the existence of a subjective morality presupposes a corresponding objective mo- rality, quite as much as the body presupposes a world in harmony with it. The laws of conscience refer to a moral Lawgiver, just as the laws of matter refer to a physical Lawgiver. We have seen that for every intellectual faculty of man's nature, there is scope for exercise in the world without ; and for every desire, a counterpart object. Nor does this parallelism fail in the case of man's moral nature. The authority within is felt to be related to sanctions on high. The reign in the breast is felt to be a part of a universal government ; and the pains and the pleasures which it involves, the foretastes of a righteous award yet to be made. And thus man feels himself related to the in- visible and the future, as well as to the visible and the present. 17. Man himself is a part of the objective universe to his fellow-man, and the knowledge of the mind of another is like the reduplication of his own mental powers. But in order to attain this knowledge, a system of relations has to be established. All that we have described hitherto, together with the organs of speech, and the connection of these with the mind, is but preparatory to it. Answering to all these in the subjective, there must be objectively the aerial medium of sound, organs of hearing, a common understanding of the meaning of the language employed, and the same mental affections and intel- ligent belief, when acted on by the same causes. The vocal interchange of thoughts between two minds is the result of a complicated system of profound relations. RELATIONS. 223 18. Regarding man's complex nature as a whole, the relation which comprehends and transcends every other is that of the creature to the Creator. First, it is that of an intelligent being made capable of consciously perceiving his relationship. He sustains the relation of a Divinely originated being, and he knows it. Secondly, it is that of an emotional creature made capable of appreciating unlimited excellence, and the Being possessing and manifesting such excellence. Not only is He the fountain of all the perfections disclosed in the wide creation, but from eternity there has dwelt hi Him an amplitude of glory which no creation can ever reflect. Now, that He should have formed us capable of recognizing, not only the glory which He has revealed, but of being as much, or even more, affected by that which He has only suggested and afforded us glimpses of, and of adoring Him on account of it, this, we say, constitutes a second relation. A third relation is that which springs from man's voluntary nature, by which he can freely will to obey God, to act like Him, and with Him. By this means, he can not only admire the perfections of God, he himself contains and reflects more of these perfections than all creation besides. Besides re- ceiving the Divine manifestation, he can consciously subserve and promote it. A fourth relation is that of a moral creature made capable of personally enjoying the proper result of all the prior relations. So that, without any original claim whatever, he sustains a relation to the infinitely blessed God, which makes him capable of receiving, at every moment of his existence, the ever-enlarging results of the exercise of all the Divine perfec- tions. Now, during any*moment of his life, the first man could easily realize the thought, that a short period before, he had no exist- ence ; that a comparatively short period before that, the material system to which he belongs had yet to begin to be ; that all the adaptations and relations between the different parts of his na- ture and the objective universe were originated, and derived their power of beneficially affecting him, entirely and directly from omnipotent goodness ; and that his distinctive capacity for knowing and loving, serving and enjoying, uncreated perfection was a pure gift from the same Sovereign source. Here, then, is a relation of which the essence is dependence utter depend- ence on independent and all-providing goodness a relation more intimate, profound, and entire, than it is in the power of the human mind adequately to comprehend. 19. We have to regard man also as a being successively ex- 224 MAN. istent. The relations which he sustains, when viewed in this light, may be thus arranged : Relations of property, or pos- sessory relations ; of humanity, or between man and man ; of family, or between husband and wife, parent and child, brother and sister, master and servant, family and family; of society, or between citizen and citizen, citizen and State ; of nations, or between society and society ; of religion, or between man and God ; these relations are named here for the sake of the con- nected view which they enable us to take of man's all-related position. The exposition of these relations, however, with the exception of the last, belongs to a subsequent part of the series. 20. In the first moment of man's existence, God stood to him in the relation of his Creator ; but with the lapse of time with the very next moment the Creator added the new relation of his Preserver also. In quick succession, he may be said to have taken up the different parts of man's constitution, and to have significantly bound them to Himself. By preparing a place for man's reception, and storing it with selected fruits, man's dependence as a physical, organic, and sentient being was de- noted. By placing him in sexual relationship, his social depend- ence was made manifest. The knowledge divinely poured into his opening mind evinced the relation between his intellect and God. The law which prohibited a certain act, disclosed the vital relation of the human will to the Divine will, or that man was made to find perfection in obedience. By this special enact- ment the Creator and Preserver of the new-made man appeared in the additional capacity of his moral Governor, while the in- institution of the sabbath intimated the wants of man's spiritual nature by bringing him into conscious and special communion with God. Engaged in this sublime fellowship, man was to find, in the love and adoration of which lie was made capable, the ut- terness and happiness of his dependent relation, and an earnest of the grandeur of his destiny. 21. Such are some of the complicated and far-reaching rela- tions which the first man sustained to the objective universe. The busy occupation of philosophy and science ever since has consisted in tracing them. Treatises, the most elaborate and voluminous, expound only a few of them. Mnn came into a universe of pre-existing relations ; a universe in which at every previous progressive stage these relations had been multiplying and complicating indefinitely. He came to take them all up into his own nature. His mind was constructed on a plan rela- tive to the plan of the universe, in order that he might perceive RELATIONS. 225 the rhythm of the whole. But the new powers requisite for this end still further complicated these lines of relation. Psychology was added to physiology. As the body is the medium through which the outer world gains access to the spirit, so also it is the instrument or mediator through which the spirit reacts, reaches the outer world, knows it, and impresses itself upon it. Science is directly conversant with the objective. Philosophy finds its elements in the subjective. But, without the objective, philoso- phy cannot take the first step ; without the aid of the subjective, science is impossible. The ideas of philosophy, the laws of sci- ence, and the constructions of art, all proceed together. Every phenomenon is both an antecedent and a consequent, sustains different relations. So vital and perfect is this system of rela- tions, that whatever part or function of the human being engages our attention, we feel inclined to conclude that the whole has been adjusted for that particular point. Nor can any one de- partment of knowledge be properly arranged which does not provide for its relation to every other branch of knowledge. 22. It hardly need be added that these relations are continu- ous, never pausing from the first moment of man's existence. Indeed, it might be shown that if he lives to draw only a single breath, the record of that breath is written on the atmosphere itself in a manner never to be effaced. And, in the same man- ner, that subtle element becomes the tablet of every word he utters, and of every action he performs through life. His rela- tions are ever-changing. Like a traveller changing his rela- tions to the scenery through which he is passing at every step he takes, man takes up new relations to the objective universe through every moment of life, relations which modify all those which he already sustains, and all wliich await him in the fu- ture. So also are they ever-increasing. As his powers are developed and advance towards maturity, the sphere of his knowledge enlarges, the objects which attract his attention mul- tiply ; the points, so to speak, at which the subjective and ob- jective touch, increase daily. He takes up new relations, with- out ever becoming entirely, and in every sense, divorced from any which he before sustained. And his relations are univer- sal. From the first hour of life, he is potentially an all-related being. Before he knows it, the capabilities of his nature pre- pare him for entering into relations with every department of the universe. But as those capabilities are developed by ac- tivity, these relations become matters of consciousness. Look where he may, man finds himself in the centre of multitudinous 226 MAN. relations stretching away into infinity and eternity. On no one point can he lay his finger and positively affirm, Here end? one class of relations and begins another. Even his will is conditioned by motives, and owes its freedom to its harmonious relation with the Supreme will. Viewed in this relation, the arched heavens become a dome in which his lightest whis- per is repeated through all nature, and carried in thunder to the throne of God ; and the wide earth a theatre in which his softest step alights on chords which vibrate through eternity. 23. Among the reflections to which this view of man's rela- tions gives rise, one is, that every man must be, within certain limits, different from every other man ; and another, that the ways in which man's relationships may be disturbed must be indefinitely numerous ; and a third, that no one of these re- lationships can be affected without affecting all the rest. On these particulars we shall have hereafter to enlarge. CHAPTER VHI. ORDER. 1. MAN, then, is an all-related being in an all-related system. Another of our principles suggests the idea " that these laws of relation themselves do not come into operation simultaneously nor capriciously, but that as many of them as pre-existed take effect in the case of the individual man according to the order of their appearance in the great scheme of the Divine pro- cedure." For as by the law of continuity with progression, every law has come into operation in orderly succession, that order of succession is itself a law. And as laws operate uni- formly, for the same reason that they operate at all namely, for the purpose of manifestation, the order of their introduction at first into the general system could not be dispensed with in any of the subsequent stages or parts of the manifestation, with- out defeating the design of their introduction at all. 2. We have seen that the order in which the great physical laws came into operation is the mechanical, the chemical, &c. Now, as far as we can affirm anything on the subject, it would appear that in that process by which man subjects all-pre-exist- ORDER. 227 ing nature, as summed up in the animal which he devours, to his own nourishment, the same order prevails. His food, when broken down and prepared by certain mechanical operations, undergoes various chemical changes, and then presents an ap- pearance which has been aptly called animal crystalization, and is afterwards vitalized, and lastly animalized. 3. Whether the order in which the different senses are de- veloped and matured is amenable to this law must remain unde- termined, owing to our unavoidable ignorance of the requisite data. It is, however, important to remark that they appear to be perfected in man in the order in which they are found in the ascending ranks of animal existence, and that this order is also the order of their importance to man as an intelligent being. 4. The phenomena of intelligence exhibit the same orderly development. "All our knowledge begins with experience." The mind begins by experiencing a sensation, a sensation occa- sioned by that external world which preceded its own existence ; and from this source comes its first hint of knowledge. This is followed by perception, a spontaneous judgment of the mind by which the occasion of the sensation is referred to a cause external to it, to an objective world. Beliefs respecting the objective exist anterior to our reflection upon them. The mind's first communion is not with itself, but with things exter- nal to, and apart from, itself. Its earliest movement is direct, not reflex. Next comes the reflective understanding com- paring, abstracting, generalizing, and combining objects. 5. The desire of knowledge is developed according to the order of our wants and necessities ; being confined, in the first instance, exclusively to those properties of material objects, and those laws of the material world, an acquaintance with which is essential to the preservation of our animal existence." From this low level of phenomena, indeed, man rises to the contem- plation of realities ; passes the boundaries of the sensible into the region of the spiritual and the infinite. But his movement is ever in the order of progress or importance. The manifes- tation of his instinctive nature precedes that of his intelligent nature, and indications of his intelligent, appear earlier than those of his moral and spiritual nature. 6. According to Hartley, as expounded by Mackintosh,* " the various principles of human action rise in value according to the order in which they spring up after each other. We can then only be in a state of as much enjoyment as we are evi- * Ethical Philosophy, 266. 228 MAN. dently capable of attaining, when we prefer interest to the ori- ginal gratifications ; honor to interest ; the pleasures of imagi- nation to those of sense ; the dictates of conscience to pleasure, interest, or reputation ; the well-being of fellow-creatures to our own indulgences ; in a word, when we pursue moral good and social happiness chiefly and for their own sake." In Hartley's own language, " theopathy, or piety, although the last result of the purified and exalted sentiments, may at length swallow up every other principle and absorb the whole man." These views are objectionable inasmuch as they imply that one reason, at least, why so few men are pious is, not owing to any depravity of heart, but because piety, or theopathy, is " in the order of our progress, the last of the virtues ; " the " theopathic affection being naturally generated out of the preceding virtues." Ante- diluvian longevity must surely have afforded man time sufficient for attaining this last of the virtues ; and yet then, if ever, im- piety triumphed. Animadverting on these views of Hartley, as far as they relate to the nature and origin of piety, Dr. "Wardlaw justly remarks,* " were not human nature in a fallen and apostate condition, a sense of God would enter the soul with the first dawn of reason. With the origin of piety, or with the means of its 'development, we have not now to do, but simply with the order of its manifestation. And, whether we regard man as fallen or unfallen, it is obvious that love to God could not enter the soul prior to the dawn of reason ; that the emotions which it involves are subsequent in the order of time to the knowledge of Him from which they take their rise. 7. Taking the individual man, it is evident that conscience presupposes will, for it is only with voluntary actions and de- sires that conscience has to do. The will, again, presupposes emotion, for this is ever exciting to volition. And hence, doing a thing for its beneficial consequence, presupposes the power of doing it for its own sake, for how else would its consequence ever have been known ? Obligation is antecedent to all calcu- lation of consequences. Emotion supposes thought respecting the object which has led to the emotion. And thought points ultimately to some sensation from without as its occasion. In the order of nature, the objective precedes the subjective. And, regarding man in his practical relations, it will be found that his desires precede his dispositions, his inclination to appropriate, that is, precedes his readiness to distribute ; that the proprietary * Christian Ethics, 403. ORDER. 229 or possessory feeling is anterior to that sense of duty which prompts him to treat others as he expects to be treated by them. And even this sense of equity may exist as man now is, apart from every sentiment of piety towards God. We have seen, also, that external nature is the chronological antecedent to the mind experience to reason. The argument a priori supposes an d posteriori postulate from which to start. So also Divine Revelation presupposes natural religion. Like the re- vealing telescope, it presupposes the eye which is to look through it. The truths which it discloses, however new, must harmonize with all pre-existing truth ; and the evidence on which it claims to be believed, relies on man's capacity to weigh and appreciate it. For its reasonableness, it appeals to reason. 8. Looking at the introduction of the human dispensation itself, the fact ought not here to be omitted that the inorganic, the organic, and the sentient stages of creation, took the order of pre-existing nature. According to the inspired historian, the earliest creative arrangements related to an abyss of waters, and then to the formation of land. These were followed by the introduction of vegetable life grasses and trees. To this suc- ceeded sentient existence, in the order of fishes, water-fowl and land-animals. Now, in all these respects, this is the order of Palaeontology the newly-named science, which treats of the beings that lived in the early ages of the world.* Last of all, man, distinguished by a moral nature, was called into being. And, further, it is worthy of remark that an order corresponding with the order of nature in man's development, was observed in the primary provision made for his well-being. As a physical, organic, and sentient being, a place was first prepared for his reception, in which " grew every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." Next, as an active and intelligent being, he was put " into the garden of Eden to dress and to keep it." His moral nature was next consulted in the prohibition which taught him that he was a subject of the Divine government. And thus the order of the great scheme of manifestation was in every way maintained. The Divine perfections appeared in the orderly procession of power, wisdom, goodness, and holiness. * This order " is a corroboration, so far, of the Mosaic account of tho Creation ; in which (it may be observed by the way) there are several points of coincidence with the results of modern scientific investigation, not a little remarkable if we are to view the narrative merely as tradi- tional record of high antiquity." From an Article on the Vestiges in the " Westminster Review." 20 230 MAN. CHAPTER IX. INFLUENCE. 1. THE law of influence may be thus expressed: "everything occupies a relation in the great system of means, and possesses a right in relation to everything else, according to its power of subserving the end ; or, everything brings in it, and with it, in its own capability of subserving the end, a reason why all other things should be influenced by it, a reason for the degree in which they should be influenced, and for the degree in which it, in its turn, should be influenced by everything else." For if every created thing necessarily expresses some property of the Divine Nature, if it possesses that resemblance on the condition of manifesting it in subserviency to the great end, and is placed in a system of relations in order that it might be able to make the manifestation, then everything will sustain an active and a passive relation, or will have a right to influence everything of inferior, and a susceptibility of being influenced by everything of superior, subserviency to the great end of the Divine mani- festation. 2. In the pre-existing kingdoms of nature, this law univer- sally prevails. The forces of inorganic nature are found to be ranged according to their activity and energy, or their capa- bility of producing changes ; while the most powerful are them- selves susceptible of change. In the midst of this incessant play of physical forces, a new force appears ; vegetable life, in an organized form, exercising the wonderful power of in- fluencing chemical action, and of thus preparing its own food, and securing its own growth. A higher order of existence next appears in the form of sentient being, and draws its sup- port, directly or indirectly, from vegetable life. Looking up the scale of creation, the highest order of being at any par- ticular time existing is to be regarded as the relative end of all the orders below it. This is its prerogative by right of the superior power which it possesses of answering the great end of creation. Thus, the sentient kingdom, besides illustrating the Divine power and wisdom in common with the inorganic and the vegetable creations, displays the perfection of goodness in addition. But now a being superior to any mere sentient nature has come. Looking up the scale of creation, we behold INFLUENCE. 231 its summit occupied by one capable of manifesting, not one or two perfections merely, but the very image of God. How great may we not expect to find his influence ! 3. On inspecting his constitution, the first remarkable charac- teristic which arrests our attention is, that he has power over himself. His superiority of constitution is not produced by leaving out of his nature all pre-existing elements by the creation of a being utterly new. He is a compendium of all that preceded him physical, organic, and animal. And over this condensed form of the kingdoms of nature lodged in his own constitution, he is called to reign. To this end he is endowed with the mysterious power of observing himself, of analyzing his own nature, ascertaining its component parts, measuring the comparative strength of each, and of knowing and determining how to apply them. 4. He is endowed with that mighty spiritual force, a free will. In the exercise of this regal power, he can command away the allurements of sense, hold in abeyance the lower propensities, and despise weariness, suffering, and death. He has the faculty of attention ; and by virtue of his will he can fix his eye on what object he pleases in the procession of his thoughts, and can dwell on it until it has shed a hue and an influence over his whole mind. He is capable of belief ; but whether or not he will attend to the probable evidence on which his belief of a moral truth should repose, is referred to his will. He has come to be the centre of this earthly system ; and, if he will, he can repro- duce parts of its plan in his own mind ; appropriate and revolve Divine thoughts ; and thus intellectually sympathize with the Infinite mind. As a being of imagination, he can regale him- self with the creations of ideal excellence, and excite himself to energy and daring by motives drawn from the invisible and the unknown. If he will, he can mentally call for objects which shall make his whole nature flame with emotion. While a sense of duty can add strength even to his will, and give to it the power of an elemental force. 5. And the longer he lives, the greater his self-regulating power may become. In his efforts at self-development he dis- closes a spiritual energy unknown to all material nature, and which every effort tends to augment. The result is, a distinctive character. To this character everything henceforth ministers and adds consolidation. Works refresh and reinforce it. Memory selects for it congenial facts. Imagination surrounds it with a congenial atmosphere. Conscience clothes it with sacredness. 232 MAN. Habit gives to it the stability and determination of a natural law. The man stands in awe of himself; looks into the dim future, and wonders to what mighty stature his nature will grow. That he is a cause, a distinct power, he feels, for every act of self- control demonstrates it. That he is a person, a moral agent, having ends of his own to accomplish, he is deeply conscious, for he feels that they are ever in progress. But where is the goal ? He can lay plans for eternity. His nature asks a bound- less future in which to expand ; and often will his far-reaching hope flash around that distant and unlimited horizon, and show him, as by momentary coruscations, the indefinite vastness of the realms which expect him. 6. Such is the constitution of the being who came to take his place at the head of the creation. In recognition of his right, and in order to the development of his powers, the kingdoms of nature were at once given into his hands. He was made for the sovereignty. He could not, indeed, change the laws of nature ; .but he could discover, combine, and arm himself with their powers. They were all ready to co-operate with him. He could not divest the objects of nature of their relative rights; but they were all ready to adjust and subordinate themselves to his superior right. By cultivation, he gave flavor to the fruit, and a new perfume to the flower. By domestication, he trained the noblest animals to his service, and yoked them to his car. The law had gone forth, "the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth ;" and everywhere the law took effect. Gradually he placed himself in actual relation to all things around him. He conformed himself to them, only that he might bend them to his own purpose. He is a moral being, an individual, complete in himself, and cannot allow himself to be absorbed in the undefined generality of -nature. His constitution forbids it. His every voluntary act is an assertion of his individuality. It is this idea of his individuality which is ever present to his own mind as the spring of his activity. It is this which places him in friendly opposition to everything which is not himself, with an effort to attach it to himself, and to conform it to himself. It is this which places him in hostile antagonism to every obstacle which impedes the proper assertion of his will, and renders him restless till it is subdued. He is not satisfied with being himself conscious of his own individuality. Nature must record it. He must have it acknowledged, a thing settled. This high prerogative of his must be imprinted on, and reflected from, INFLUENCE. 233 the external world. Property is simply the outward assertion of this inward consciousness. An individual himself, he essays to individualize other things, to detach them from their previous vague generality, to put some signature of his own upon them, and to make them his own property. He must cultivate, fashion, produce, utter himself in acts which imprint themselves on objects. And the nobler his mind, the loftier the order of the proofs necessary to satisfy his own sense of his individuality. He must see the garden of Eden itself improve under his hand. If he paint, it must be ideal forms. If he sculpture, the shape- less marble must burn as with a god-like life within, a multi- plication or diffusion of his own existence. If he build, it must be a temple, the shrine at once of his own thoughts, and of the Deity. Others may purchase or inherit his works, still they can never pass from him never cease to be his in a sense superior to that in which they can ever become another's the memorial of his individuality, which would make itself be heard, and could in no other way be adequately expressed. He and they are identified for all time. You cannot say, he and they. More properly, you point to them and say, there you see him. And the more completely he surrounds himself with his own works, multiplies his own likeness, the more is his individuality demon- strated to his own satisfaction. Were not his efforts constitution- ally limited, the tendency of his energy would be to establish himself in the earth as the sole fact, to be recognized as the only power. God has manifested Himself in him, and he labors to externalize himself in all nature. And in every high resolve, in every well-regulated endeavor, there takes place in the midst of nature that which raises and ennobles it, and which manifests at the same time both man and his Divine Maker. 7. Still more apparent is man's influence on his fellow man. When we come to examine the constitution of society, we shall find ourselves surrounded by an atmosphere of influence in which every element is in constant and vigorous action and re- action. Here, man speaks, and eloquence is born. He sings, and poetry melts and entrances. He desires, and art becomes his handmaid. He defines and resolves, and law reigns. He reasons, and philosophy ascends her throne. He unites his will with the will of his fellow men, and a world of his own appears. Here, every word projects an influence, and acquires a history. Every action draws after it a train of influence. Every relation sustained, is a line along which is unceasingly transmitted a vital influence. Every individual is a centre constantly radiating 20* 234 MAN. streams of moral influence. From the first moment of his active existence, his character goes on daily and hourly stream- ing with more than electric fluid, with a subtle, penetrating, element of moral influence. A power this which operates in- voluntarily ; for though he can choose, in any given instance, what he will do, yet having done it, he cannot choose what in- fluence it shall have. It operates universally, never terminating on himself, but, extending to all within his circle, emanates from each of these again as from a fresh centre, and is thus transmit- ted on in silent, but certain effect, to the outermost circle of* so- cial existence. It is indestructible ; not a particle is ever lost, but the whole of it, taken up into the general system, is always in operation somewhere. And the influence which thus blends and binds him up with his race, invisible and impalpable as it is, is yet the mightiest element of society. 8. Superior still is the influence which man possesses, both over himself and over others, in " having power with God " in prayer. This, indeed, is a power, not resulting from natural law, or from superior might, but graciously accorded by sove- reign Goodness. By placing himself in harmony with physical laws, he arms himself with their powers. By voluntarily con- forming himself to moral laws, he clothes himself with their sacredness. But by placing himself in harmonious and direct communication with God, he becomes a divine reality. As the magnet arranges itself with the pole, he places himself in a line with the Highest, and becomes a medium of the mightiest in- fluence. However influential other means ma} 7 " be, the amount of their influence is calculable, bearing a proportion to the power employed ; but prayer, by engaging a Divine power, sets all calculation at defiance. But man's moral and spiritual in- fluence will appear more conspicuously at the close of the next chapter. 9. Man, however, while thus capable of influencing himself and every object around him, is himself influenced by the very objects which he affects. The earth and a gossamer mutually attract each other, in the proportion of the mass of the earth to the mass of the gossamer, but only in that proportion. The plant, while acting on the surrounding atmosphere, is also mod- ified by the properties which it changes. And the human char- acter is at once a constitution and a formation, a subjective power, both modifying and modified by objective influences. It is not to be supposed that his subordinating power, because it is supreme, is therefore absolute. When he sinks into barba- SUBORDINATION. 235 rism, external nature tyrannizes over him, just because he liim- self is then in an unnatural state. And in the case of every infant, the primary object of parental solicitude is to save it from climatic and other material influences. Nor does man ever attain an earthly condition in which he is entirely exempt from their power. For man to annihilate or absorb them is as im- possible as it is unnatural for him to be absorbed by them. The fiat which made man sovereign over the kingdoms of nature, recognized their claims, as well as proclaimed his power. Sov- ereign and subjects, supremacy and subordination, are terms which imply each other. CHAPTER X. SUBORDINATION. 1. IN harmony with the preceding law, we are led by another of our principles to expect " that everything subordi- nate in rank, though it may have been prior in its origin, will be subject to each higher object, or law, of creation." This is only saying, in effect, that in no case shall the means be put in the place of the end. 2. This law of subordination applies to the different parts of the human constitution. The various parts of this constitution we have already designated ; have shown that they are all re- lated ; and that they observe an order of dependence and de- velopment. Now, whether we consider the great end for which the whole exists, the manifestation of God ; or the coin- cident, but subordinate end, the well-being of the creature, it it cannot be a matter of indifference which part of his constitu- tion is appointed or allowed to control the rest. No part, in- deed, is to be extinguished ; for each of its laws is, in one degree or another, essential to the well-being of the whole. But the ends to be answered by the whole, require the gradu- ated subordination of the parts, as much in the constitution of man as in, the movements of the solar system. Now this sub- ordination exists. 3. For example, in common with the mere animal, man is a creature of appetites and instinctive desires. And, were he 236 MAN. nothing more, he would be innocent in abandoning himself to their gratification in acting the brute. It is obvious, however, that they cannot be left uncontrolled without endangering him who indulges, and the objects which excite them. 4. Self-interest, or self-love, is a higher principle of action still. It is appetite, or passion, regulated by reason. Passion prompts to instant revenge ; self-love defers it till it can be more advantageously taken. Appetite impels the man to eat ; self-love directs him to eat only so as to conduce to his health and to his happiness upon the whole. Self-love, then, which is always looking beyond the present moment, and making its calculations for a longer or shorter period, requires the subordi- nation of the appetites and the passions which are impelling the man to immediate indulgence. But self-love itself requires sub- ordination ; for, as its name implies, its object is solely the pro- duction of our own happiness, not the happiness of others, nor the attainment of the great end. It must not, however, be con- founded with selfishness, which viciously seeks for gratification at 'the expense of the rights of others, or in objects which do not properly belong to us. 5. The disinterested and social affections of our nature rank higher still. They hold self-love itself in subjection, and are superior to its personal calculations. Paley, indeed, has said, " I hold that pleasures differ in nothing but in continuance and in intensity." " If we could use such a term without an unbe- coming disrespect towards a virtuous and useful writer (re- marks Dr. Whewell) this opinion might properly be called brutish, since it recognizes no differences between the pleasures of man and those of the lowest animals. If the pleasures of sense differ only in intensity and duration from the pleasures of filial and parental affection ; we ought to know how many days of luxurious living are equivalent to the pleasure of saving a father's life, that we may decide rightly when these claims happen to come into competition." Every act of self-devotion recognizes the superior value of the benevolent affections, and the admiration which it excites is so much homage rendered to them. 6. The principle to which supremacy is assigned in the human constitution is, as we have already seen, a sense of duty, or conscience, including, of course, that love to God which is inseparable from love to goodness for its own sake. To man's appetites and instinctive desires it is permitted to subordinate pre-existing laws and objects calculated to gratify them. But, SUBORDINATION. 287 if unrestrained, their language is, We must be gratified to-day, even at the risk of being destroyed to-morrow. To his self-love it is given to subordinate his appetites. But, if uncontrolled, its language is, I know of DO end greater than that of my own happiness. To the benevolent affections is accorded the right of subordinating self-love. But to conscience, as previously understood, is assigned the office of regulating all these prin- ciples of action ; so that our appetites shall not injuriously affect our own interests, nor our own interests prejudice those of others, nor these affect the claims of God ; but the whole be subordinated to an end greater than that of any created being. And while engaged in the exercise of its supremacy, its author- itative language is, " this ought, or this ought not to be." In accordance with these views, Butler represents the. brute crea- tion as having various instincts and principles of action ; and as obeying these, according to the constitution of their body, and the objects around them. In acting according to these, brutes " act suitably to their whole nature." Man, too, " has various instincts and principles of action as brute creatures have ; " but he has also " several which brutes have not par- ticularly conscience." " And this," he adds, " compared with the rest, as they all stand together in the nature of man, plainly bears upon it marks of authority over all the rest, and claims the absolute direction of them all, to allow or forbid their grati- fication." 7. It would avail little for the attainment of the great end, that this law of subordination existed in the subjective man, if a corresponding arrangement did not exist in the objective uni- verse ; if each part of man's constitution, that is, had not its own world of motives ; and each of these worlds or classes of motives had not been invested with a value graduated according to their importance in the great system of Divine manifestation. Now this arrangement actually exists. 8. The appetites have their objects. And, though they are not all on the same low level, yet, as a class, they place man in a relation to inferior natures, and are themselves as limited and perishable as the desires which they excite. Self-love selects its objects as the result of reflection ; and is consequently " man- ifestly superior to any mere propension." While the appetites seize the present, and are appeased, self-love measures the dis- tant, and visits the unseen. It weighs the whole of my happi- ness against the gratification of any single moment. It visits my future self; and, on the principle, that the longer I exist, 238 MAK. the greater will be my capacity for excellence and happiness, and that the whole of my happiness must be more important than any passing moment of it, it employs the present in the interests of that more important future. The benevolent affec- tions have their objects multiplied indefinitely. Self-love obeys the command, " Thou shalt love thyself." Benevolence is un- der the wider law, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." In common with self-love, it contemplates the distant future ; but, forgetful of self, it opens its arms to embrace the interests of that vast whole, of which it forms a self-oblivious part. While conscience, having to recognize the Tightness of objects, has an especial affinity for everything bearing the impress of the Divine will. The appetites, indeed, and self-love, and the benevolent affections, are as much Divinely-originated parts of our nature as conscience itself. And, therefore, it is, that con- science can unite with and sanction them, within their appointed limits ; or they can all act together. Bui regarding a man as acting on only one of these principles at a time, the force of con- science must be admitted to be more sacred and commanding than either of the others, in proportion to the loftier character of the sphere which belongs to it. 9. Hence, though the same act may be performed from mo- tives drawn from each of these classes, there is no comparison between the rightful strength of the other motives, and of that drawn from the will and character of God. The sight of a piece of bread, for example, may awaken in a man the sensa- tion of hunger, and he may eat it simply to gratify his appetite. Or, though not hungry, he may take it, from a prudent self-love, as offered to him by one whom he is loth to disoblige, because he is looking to him for some future advantage. Or he may eat it as the means of strengthening himself for a journey under- taken for some neighborly purpose. Or he may partake of it preparatory to some great conflict in which the authority of God, and the paramount claims of rectitude, are at stake. Now, who does not perceive that these motives are drawn from an ascend- ing scale of importance ; and that the last, based on obligation, is so much more authoritative than the others, that it ought to be obeyed, even though it were opposed by the combined force of the other three ? 10. In harmony with these views, man exercises an influence over the mind of his fellow-man proportioned to the rank of the truth and of the faculty which he employs, and of the principle, and the intensity of the principle, by which he is actuated. SUBORDINATION. 239 Mere physical force effects little. The most, exterminating per- secution defeats itself. Any apparent exception to this rule owes its existence to the force of public opinion, and not to per- secution itself, and as such serves to illustrate the power of that opinion. The mightiest machinery is moved by mind. Every revolution was once a thought. The great changes of society are produced, not by laws, kings, or armies, as is generally sup- posed ; but by the operation of a power stronger than all these a power which no fires can burn, no armies destroy, but which is able itself to extinguish the one and to annihilate the other the power of thought, opinion, principle. These are the true sovereigns of the world. By the constitution of the Divine plan, the empire of time has been given to them ; and all other forms of power are only their creatures. In the do- main of mind, metaphysical ideas are supreme. Their power is not limited to the minds which conceive them. It extends next to the larger circle of minds which comprehend them. These popularize and diffuse them to a wider circle beyond. Thought propagates itself by a law of its own ; and in propor- tion as it loses its metaphysical or scientific form, it becomes a centre of feeling and force, and gains in its influence on the general mass. The debris of the mountain-range, though inac- cessible and useless in its Himalayan heights, when triturated and commingled by the streams which bear it down into the valleys, is destined to form the fertile plains on whose produce nations live. While the earth was resounding with Alexander's exploits, Aristotle, his tutor, was silently achieving the mightier conquest of the human mind. The Macedonian empire was soon dismembered and extinct ; but the mental empire of the philosopher continued vigorous and entire for more than two thousand years, moulding opinions, affecting creeds, and indi- rectly guiding the popular intellect; nor is it anything like destroyed yet. 11. It may be expected, however, that of all the thoughts or theories which move men, the mightiest will be those which partake of a moral nature. And it is so. A moral truth is greater than a throne, and subverts thrones. It has a throne of its own, " in the spirit and souls of men." Mighty is he to whom such a truth first comes, or by whom it first speaks mightier than all men that have it not. Based on all that is most profound and central in our nature, it draws to itself the whole depth and mass of our being. And as it enlists in its cause the spiritual and untiring part of our nature, it needs no 240 MAN. pause, allows no truce, entails its quarrel from generation to generation. Hence religion is ever struggling for its right place and influence among a people where it has not yet obtained them ; and where it has, that place is found to be the centre and summit of power, where it becomes the bond of their unity and their strength. To the idea of God, society is ever unconsciously aiming to adjust itself, and to be assimilated. 12. We have seen that man is actuated by principles differing in value and importance ; and we may expect, therefore, that his influence on others will be proportioned to the rank of his moving principle. Accordingly, we find that the man who surrenders himself to his animal appetites, passes on himself a sentence of isolation and insignificance ; and his fellow-men ratify the doom with averted face. Self-government is the primary condition of all relative influence ; and in proportion as a man displays this, even in the pursuit of his own interests, he rules the spirits of others. " Men will praise thee when thou doest well to thyself." The man who, under the force of a well-regu- lated self-love, keeps his eye steadily fixed on some point in the future, and tramples on every present obstacle in the way to it, influences those around him by his example at every step he takes. The benevolent affections tell more powerfully still. They surround a man with an atmosphere, which whoso breathes becomes like him. The open heart is a key to open other hearts. Compassion melts and warms the icy to its own tem- perature. Love begets love, and "is stronger than death." Actuated by these affections, a man goes out of himself only to find that others are coming to him. A sense of duty still further augments his power. The force of a higher will is then added to his own. He " cannot but speak the things which he has seen and heard." " Necessity is laid on him." He is an agent of heaven. Every great force enters into his character ; sin- cerity, which all confide in ; self-denial, which makes room in his heart for God ; faith, which sees " horses and chariots of fire," and which can hourly remove a mountain ; and an energy which moves with face and step direct towards its object ; qual- ities which all hearts bow down before and reverence. 13. When the being moved by such principles, proposes to himself a lofty end, he still further augments his power. He can, we have said, design for eternity. If the design which he sets before himself be coincident with the great designs of God, he assimilates his nature to the Divine nature, and shares in its greatness. A political necessity has sometimes compelled the SUBORDINATION. 241 vicious to identify themselves for a time with great interests ; and the effect has been to charm them temporarily from their degradation, and to raise them to an elevation of character which has shed a dignity on our species. But he who surrenders himself intelligently and voluntarily to a great object, lifts his whole nature at once and for ever. He no longer needs par- ticular rules and detailed prescriptions. He is a law to himself; rather, he is obeying all laws at once, without feeling that he is subjected to any. By aiming at the highest end, he carries with him the influence of every object and being, moving in the same direction. He is made free of the universe, and admitted into fellowship with all goodness. Time yields up to him her trea- sures, and eternity lends him her sanctions. Already he speaks as from the distant future. 14. To be influential in the highest degree, a man must be not only actuated by the highest principles, and aim at the high- est end, he must be undivided and entire. Just so much friction as takes place in the internal working of a piece of machinery, is so much power lost to the application of the machine. Let it be supposed, then, that the man is internally united and self- possessed, that his principles and passions harmoniously combine, that no part of his nature is wanting, no part exercising a coun- ter-influence, that the whole man is bound and braced up as if devoted to the grand experiment of seeing how much a single human agent can effect : let it be supposed further, that this had become his fixed character, the growth and habit of years ; and that he had acquired it as the result of indomitable perseverance in a path filled with allurements to beguile, and with dangers to deter, and in such a man we have a combination of the noblest influences operating in the most intense degree. He himself may be unconscious of his power , but the evidence, even of this, would only add to it. He may be great enough to be mis- understood ; but his influence is not to be measured by moments or miles ; though disinherited of the present, he will possess the . future. " Being dead, he will yet speak," speak as from heaven ; and even his enemies may come to think of his face " as it had been the face of an angel." His weight is felt even where he is not intellectually comprehended. The fearful trust in him ; the doubting believe in him ; the evil secretly admire and stand in awe of him. His presence is felt like nature ; and the mul- titude open and make way for him, and then fall into his train. He belongs to the party which has ever ruled the race ; and which has given to the world its sages, and martyrs, and heroes, 21 242 MAN. & and benefactors ; men whose memoirs are traditional, to whom statues are erected, and whose names become titles. But sup- pose him in favorable circumstances, and among those by whom he is appreciated and beloved, and his life is a perpetual bene- faction, and a diffusion of real power. The mere forms of power humble themselves before him. Wealth and glitter are impoverished by his presence. Everything good tends to yield up its whole nature to him, and he imparts it to others. The last effort of his own power is, to bring them under " the power of the Highest." 15. Now, it was as a being charged with intellectual and spiritual influence, and capable of exercising it, that man became the subject of moral government. That government did not create his superiority ; it only recognized his moral powers, and held him responsible for their proper exercise. He came into a grand scheme of things, all the objects of which were Divinely classified before he came. Here, the Providence which " feeds the young lions," notes the " falling sparrow," and " taketh care for oxen," had apportioned its regard according as its objects were of lesser or of " greater value ;" and this value was deter- mined according to the measure of the capacity which an object has to receive and to exhibit the proofs of the Creator's perfec- tions, and so to answer the end of creation. On this principle of classification it is that, on man's appearance, he was placed at the head of animated nature. He was " of more value" than all that preceded him, not only as a being of greater capacity for exhibiting the proofs of the Divine care, but chiefly as being capable of the Divine government. A new aspect of the Divine character was now brought to light; and man, as the being in whose nature it was to shine forth, took precedence of all that had gone before him, and passed into the higher sphere of moral government. His powers enabled him, to a certain extent, to be a providence to himself, and a governor of himself, and for tliis he was to be held responsible. Every faculty within him, estimated by the Divine scale of valuation, had a worth of its own ; and he was to appreciate and cultivate each accordingly. Every object without him, according to the Divine classification, had its own place. No two, differing in character, occupied the same rank. For the same reason, therefore, that God is to be the object of his supreme regard, everything else is to be re- garded by him according to the nearness of its relation to Him. Every differing object in creation is calculated to affect him, and to affect him differently from every other object ; but still the OBLIGATION. 243 graduated principle, of which we are speaking, supplied the law by; which he was to make the selection of objects under whose influence he would live ; he was to surrender himself up to them in proportion to their tendency to educate his own nature, to develop his powers of self-government, and thus to invest him with the greatest amount of improving influence over others. The value of every act he performed, and of every habit he acquired, was to be estimated by the same rule ; from the movement which took him into the immediate presence of the Deity to the lowliest duty of ordinary life. 16. And as the race multiplied, the value and the place of every member of it was to be decided by the same test. In the eye of God's great principle of classification, no two human beings would stand in precisely the same subjective relation to Him, or exercise precisely the same kind and degree of hal- lowing influence upon others. He who approached nearest to the model of the Divine excellence would necessarily be the object of the greatest admiration. And as admiration leads, by a law of our nature, to imitation, men were to be always ad- vancing towards higher and higher degrees of perfection. In- ferior excellence, being constantly drawn upwards by the strong moral attraction of that which was above it, a process of assim- ilation to the blessed God would have been constantly going on, which would have rendered earth a copy of heaven. The laws of influence and of subordination would have universally prevailed ; or every one would have occupied a relation in the great system of means, according to his power of subserving the ultimate end. CHAPTER XL OBLIGATION. 1. RELATIONS give rise to obligations. " Every human being exists under obligations to promote the great end of his existence, commensurate with his relations." So that he is under at least as many obligations as are the relations which he sustains ; each of his obligations differs with the corresponding relation ; and every change or increase of the relations involves a change and increase of the obligations. What, then, are his relations ? We have seen that he sustains relations of depen- 244 MAN. dence and influence, of order and subordination. All these he is bound, to study, in order that he may know his obligations. He is endowed with intellect expressly that he may know them. 2. Observing the same order as that in which we treated of man's relations, in the seventh chapter, we begin with the obli- gations which respect his constitution coexistently considered. There are relations between the various parts of his physical, his organic, and his animal systems respectively ; and between these three systems mutually and collectively. Then, each of these relations, as far as he has the means of understanding it, or the power of influencing it, brings with it an obligation which requires him to preserve it in harmony with all the rest, ac- cording to its rank in the human constitution. He can neither dwarf nor develope either of these parts of his nature beyond a certain point, without injuriously affecting the claims of every other part, and proportionally unfitting himself for answering the end of his being. Much less can he, either by a slow pro- cess, or by a violent act, extinguish his life, without doing vio- lence to every law of obligation he is under. By such an act, he is virtually attempting to take himself out of the loftiest sys- tem of relations the universe can ever know ; to deface one of the most glorious representations of God the universe contains ; and is doing all he can to defeat the great end for which the universe exists. 3. As a sentient being, endowed with intelligence, he is bound to do all he can, consistent with other things, for the pro- tection, activity, and well-being, of the organs and nervous ap- paratus placed at his disposal. The impressions received through the medium of one sense, are to be compared with, and corrected by, those received through another, and the whole to be submitted to the judgment, and thus the organs of sense are to be as, indeed, they must have been with the first man always in a state of education. 4. Man can reflect ; and, as such, he is under obligation to bend over, look in upon, and ascertain the properties and laws and ever- varying manifestations of that mental and moral world, unknown to external nature, which exists within him. He is to mark the distinction between thought and its products, be- tween the mind and the truths which the mind excogitates. He is to study the legitimate process of the mind in reasoning, or the logical connection traceable between one state of mind and another ; to mark the causes most likely to disturb that con- nection, and to avoid them ; and to observe that the truth of OBLIGATION. 245 his own consciousness is the condition of the possibility of all his knowledge. 5. As a being of reason, he is bound to remark that every act of reasoning points to a fact out of himself, and in which it rests ; that the particular presupposes the universal ; the con- tingent, the necessary ; the subjective, the objective ; and that, in reference to these ultimate facts, his intellectual life is a con- tinual series of beliefs. To stop short of the perception of these ultimate facts, is to terminate a voyage in the middle of the Atlantic. By pursuing any truth either to its origin or its end, the mind logically arrives at the infinite God. Hence the language of the Apostle, " because that which may be known of God is manifest in them, for God hath showed it unto them ; so that they are without excuse." 6. Imagination imposes another obligation. Its sphere is the possible, and its office to create. If it exist in excess, man is in danger of surrounding himself with objects and worlds at variance with the interests of the present, of surrendering him- self to the ideal to the neglect of the actual. If it be deficient, another class of dangers are incurred ; the mind is liable to be so absorbed by the actual and the present, as to be insensible to the possible and the future, insensible even to those suggestions respecting the invisible to which the visible was intended to lead. Man is under obligation, therefore, to acquaint himself with the mediating faculty of his nature, and to direct, repress, or encourage it, according as its tendency and the measure of its activity may require. 7. The power of employing language, with which man is endowed, increases his obligations. For although we are not now speaking of the use which he makes of it in his commu- nication with others, his obligations respecting it are logically prior to his actual employment of it in speech. There is an internal discourse (sermo intemus) as well as an external dis- course. Language is an instrument of thought, as well as a means of imparting our thoughts. And there is a tendency in words to become " incantations." " Like the Tartar's bow, they direct their attack backward on the intellect, whence they have had their origin." Or, if a man breathe the softest whisper in soliloquy, it reacts with certain effect upon himself. His own mind is a whispering-gallery in which the lightest utterance reverberates for ever. 8. As a being capable of motives, he is bound to mark what part of his nature is most easily moved his appetites, his self- 21* 246 MAN. love, his affections, or his sense of duty ; what view of an ob- ject most easily moves it ; and what the degree is to which it is moved. It is only in this way that he can become acquainted with that natural character imparted by physical temperament, which, however susceptible of modification and direction, always gives a complexion to the moral character of its possessor, and distinguishes him from every other human being. The dis- covery of the precise locality of the poles, would be as nothing to him, compared with the knowledge of his own character. 9. Man is a voluntary being, and is bound to remember the high and solemn office of his will ; that to will is to act ; that his will is the executive power of the kingdom within him. He is to mark its individual character, whether it be hasty or delib- erate in its decisions, feeble or energetic in carrying them into effect that it may receive the appropriate treatment. 10. But each volition sustains a relation to his conscience, as a movement which ought, or ought not, to be. Then he is bound, before he wills or resolves on an action, to be satisfied that it is morally right ; to pause if he even doubts respecting its rectitude ; to respect the softest whisper, the least move- ment, of conscience ; and thus to " make conscience " of every- thing. When he has performed it, he ought to examine the intention with which he acted ; to live in the salutary dread of violating conscience ; and thus to recognize its sacredness and supremacy. As he is a voluntary being, he is not to expect that conscience will speak in thunder and lightning except in extreme cases ; but is to act on the remembrance that the per- fection of conscience is that it speaks loud enough to be heard by the attentive ear, but not so loud as to affright or force the voluntary part of his nature. 11. Not only does every part of man's nature bring with it a corresponding obligation, but every moment in which it exists continues, and even increases, each of these obligations. His internal nature has a history no less than his external proceed- ings. Let it be conceived that each faculty and function of his intellectual constitution has been bestowed on him separately and in slow succession, and the profound interest which would have been attached to his internal history may be easily imag- ined. But that interest is not really less because they all co- exist potentially from the first. For their actual awakening takes place gradually. They become adjusted and related to their proper objects in slow 'succession. And as this awakening of the internal relations is from the less to the greater, the change OBLIGATION. 247 of the man's obligations is from the less to the more numerous and imperative. It is impossible for him to do what he is bound to do in reference to the different parts of his constitu- tion, without becoming more and more capable of virtue ; and for this progressive capacity he is held responsible. He cannot legitimately exercise his intellectual powers, for instance, with- out obtaining an increase of knowledge : his memory retains the past ; his attention acquires a command over the present ; and habit facilitates his acquisition for the future. He cannot rightly cultivate the emotional part of his nature, without find- ing himself increasingly moved by objects according to their real worth. The appropriate exercise of conscience, every time it is called into action, cannot fail to increase the promptitude and authority of its decisions. While the habit of thus knowing, appreciating, and morally discriminating, which these voluntary acts tend to form, increases his means of improvement for all time to come. 12. Besides this, the different parts of his nature are mutu- ally related and as their progressive enlargement depends on the harmonious combination of the whole, he is answerable for that. They range in a graduated scale in which each has its place, so that the lowest cannot be disparaged nor the highest overrated, without injury to the whole. At every moment of his existence, he is responsible for such a capacity ibr virtue as he would have acquired by the perfect cultivation, through every previous moment of his being, of all his powers in harmonious combina- tion ; such a capacity for virtue being the only capacity "adapted to the responsibilities of that particular moment." Mere sinlessness, even for a moment, is impossible. The nature of a moral being involves the necessity, at every moment, of actual compliance with every known claim of law, or else the actual refusal of such compliance. He is held responsible, from moment to moment, not merely for sinlessness, but also for all the positive excellence which it had been in his power to attain. " That is to say, under the present moral constitution, every man is justly held responsible, at every period of his ex- istence, for that degree of virtue of which he would have been capable, had he, from the first moment of his existence, im- proved his moral nature, in every respect, just as he ought to have done." * It can hardly be necessaiy to repeat, that, in order to justify this ever-increasing responsibility, man is sup- * Wayland's Moral Science, c. iii. 2. 248 MAN. posed to be endowed with the intelligence necessary to perceive his relations, and with a moral nature for making him conscious of the corresponding obligations. 13. But all those obligations answering to man's internal relations, presuppose the existence of a corresponding objective system. His relations to the external world require, for ex- ample, that, in* order to the preservation of health, a certain portion of every day should be given to the reception of food, to the exercise of the nervous and muscular systems, and to rest ; for the preservation of health is essential to his answering the end of his existence. " Every one that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things" goes through the physical discipline necessary to attain the best condition for ensuring success. And even the attainment of a spiritual end will not exempt a man from the necessity of employing the appropriate physical means. 14. If every organ of sense is improved by exercise, he is bound to seek that improvement. If each bears a special rela- tion to certain external properties and objects, on all these objects he is bound to exercise them. If the brain as well as the senses requires education in order to secure its best action, and if the condition of his physique operates in modifying the manifestations of his morale, he is bound to subject his nervous system to a certain degree of excitement, and thus gradually to conduct it to its highest powers of natural action. 15. As a reflective being, capable of tracing the relations of external nature, he is bound to study the qualities of objects, and their relations of causation, succession, and resemblance, and his own relations to them ; to mark the analogy of each with all ; to trace the plan which comprehends and unites the whole ; to ascertain the best method or methods, of arriving at these results ; to observe that nothing can be studied entirely apart and in isolation from other things, without erroneous conclusions ; to mark his own position at the head of creation ; and to regard himself as placed there to learn the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of God which creation displays. " For the works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein ;" not that the pursuit of this divine knowledge is optional for those that have no pleasure therein. For, " because they regard not the works of the Lord, nor the operation of his hands, therefore shall he destroy them, and not build them up." 16. As a creature endowed with reasort, he is under obligation OBLIGATION. 249 to mark that different kinds of truth require different kinds of evidence, and that proof, as a process, is not universally necessary nor possible, owing to the subject, not to the object. He is bound to distinguish the truths of reason from those of induction ; truths necessary from those which are contingent ; truths without which the understanding could not take its first step, and induction would be impossible; truths which the understanding presupposes in its every movement. He is to remark that he comes into a vast circle of pre-existing objective truth, truth which he is preconfigured to recognize and believe, and on the instinctive belief of which his safety and welfare depend; that even physically he is "saved by faith" in these truths, and that in this intuitive belief of objective truth consists the union of the subjective and the objective. 17. As a rational being capable of articulate speech, he is bound to study the laws of language as the means of communi- cation with his fellow men. "Words are " notionum tesserae," and he is under an obligation to call things by their right names, and to communicate nothing but what he believes to be truth. He is bound to acquaint himself with the laws of argumentation, or logic as an art, for the purpose of informing and convincing the judgment ; of persuasion, or rhetoric, for the purpose of moving the passions ; of verbal evidence, or testimony, for the purpose of inducing belief and respect for authority ; as well as to observe that all evidence, not demonstrative, admits of degrees ; and to remember that every word he utters is a seed which germinates for eternity. 18. He is susceptible of emotion, and, as such, he is bound to acquaint himself with all the phenomena calculated to move him ; to classify them according as they appeal to his passions, his self-love, his affections, or his conscience; to rank them according to their importance ; to yield himself most to the highest and the best ; and to carry out his emotions to their final objects in appropriate external action. That is to say, there is a state or affection of the mind appropriate to every external object, which every object when brought before the mind is adapted to produce, and which every mind, when the object is before it, is susceptible of experiencing ; and a state or affection of the mind which every voluntary being, therefore, is bound to exhibit. The external action corresponding to that state of the mind may or may not be performed. If it cannot be performed, still the feeling was due to the objects, and the language of Scripture then is, " It was well that it was in thine 250 MAN. heart." But even though the appropriate action be performed, if the corresponding feeling be absent, the obligation is violated, for the action is performed from a wrong motive. Thus, when God enjoins certain actions such, for example, as the imparta- tion of our substance to the needy it is not that he requires the mere external act of almsgiving, for his word expressly declares, that though a man " bestow all his goods to feed the poor," yet " if he have not charity , it profiteth him nothing." The meaning is, then, that there is a certain state of mind to- wards our indigent fellow-creatures which we are bound to cultivate, and which would certainly impel us to act for their relief. And the same view explains the fact that we are held responsible for the formation of our opinions and our belief, as well as for our outward conduct, and justifies the style of injunction and command in which the Bible imperatively de- mands this belief. There is a state of the affections appropriate to every truth which can be brought before the mind, to every kind and degree of evidence by which its claim to our belief can be supported, and to every being that can present and en- force it. In commanding our belief of Divine revelation, \ve are supposed to have uniformly cultivated such a state of mind to- wards the infinite excellence of God as would produce a supreme regard for his will, as soon as ever the appropriate evidence of His will was laid before us. This state of mind we are bound to maintain. But if, failing to maintain it, we pass into a state of mind in which the convincing power of the appropriate evidence is lost, this, so far from excusing, aggravates the guilt of our unbelief. 19. But this supposes that man is able to direct, or, in some sense, to control his emotions. As a voluntary being, he pos- sesses this power. In saying that, as a sentient, reflective, ra- tional, and speaking being, he is placed in certain definite rela- tions to every object and event without him, his emotional nature is supposed ; for unless he had the capability of being moved by them, such relations would be impossible. And in saying that, as a being placed in these emotional relations to the objective universe, he is held responsible for maintaining them unimpaired, his voluntary nature is presupposed ; for, as his emotions follow his perceptions of objects necessarily, unless he had the power of directing his perceptions to objects, or of withdrawing it from them, responsibility for the consequent emotions and affections of his mind would be impossible. This voluL.iary power we have shown that he possesses. Hence he is responsible for his OBLIGATION. 251 external conduct only as that conduct is the expression of the state of his mind, just because that state of mind depends on the attention given to certain objects, and that attention is voluntary. So also, he is responsible for his opinions, not directly, (for the same opinions may be adopted under the influence of very widely different feelings,) but only as they are significant of those dispositions which led to their adoption; just because those dispositions are, in the way which we have described, subjected to his will. In forming an opinion of an object there- fore say of its size, color, and figure he is bound to place himself at the right distance, and in the right position, for the examination. Would that this obligation were recognized in ethics as it is in physics ! In forming his estimate of character, say of the character of the infinitely blessed God he is bound to regard it in its different relations and excellences, to place it in comparison with that of others, and so to keep it before his mind that he may be filled with holy admiration of it. And in adopting his views of the Gospel, he is bound not merely to weigh its divine evidences, but to bring to that exercise such predispositions for truth, and such susceptibilities of conviction, as could only result from having fulfilled every moral obligation through every preceding moment of life. In the conduct of his will, therefore, he is bound to acquaint himself with the whole range of his moral obligations ; and inasmuch as the will of God is in perfect harmony with eternal right, and is, as far as it has been made known, the expression of that right, he is bound to acquaint himself with all the manifestations of that will, and to keep his own in entire accordance with it. 20. As a moral being, capable of recognizing all his relations, and aware that every relation involves an obligation, he is bound to live under an habitual sense of duty, and especially of duty as enjoined on him by the will of God, which is the exposition of His character. Duties would be due from one moral creature to another, even supposing them, if it be possible, to exist without a Creator. But (in the language of Dr. Way land), " as every creature is the creature of God, He has made the duties which they owe to each other, a part of their duty to Him. The duties, therefore, which are required of us to our fellow creatures, are required of us under a twofold obligation, First, that arising from our relation to God ; and, secondly, that arising from our relation to our fellows. And, hence, there is not a single act which we are under obligation to perform, which we are not also under obligation to perform from the principle of obedience to 252 MAN. God. Thus the obligation to act religiously or piously, extends to the minutest action of our lives. And no action of any kind whatever can be, in the full acceptation of the term, virtuous that is, be entitled to the Divine commendation, which does not involve in its motives the temper of filial obedience to the Deity. And still more, as this obligation is infinitely superior to any other that can be conceived, an action performed from the force of any motive, to the omission of this superior obligation, fails. in infinitely the most important respect ; and must, by the whole amount of this deficiency, expose us to the condemnation of the law of God, whatever that condemnation may be." 21. All this, of course, supposes the existence of a subjective morality and of an objective morality of the laws of conscience within, and of a moral Lawgiver on high ; and it supposes also the relation of the two. In a preceding chapter, we have shown that these relations exist. God has made man capable of knowing His will, and has placed him in the midst of a system in which he is constantly solicited to inquire after him. Hence he is bound to watch for every intimation, however expressed, and to treasure up every fact, relative to the Divine will, which his powers and opportunities permit. God has made man capable of appreciating moral excellence, and has revealed himself as a being of unlimited power, and wisdom, and goodness, and holi- ness ; then man is under obligation, from the moment his mind perceives, or is capable of perceiving, this objective excellence, to love it with unlimited affection, or with affection limited only by the capacity of his nature. God has created man capable of voluntarily serving Him, and of promoting the great end of crea- tion, and has furnished him with the requisite laws to regulate his conduct. Then man is to obey them. His conscience is so configured to the relations of the system into which he is intro- duced, that there is not one of his voluntary movements which does not violate, or harmonize with, the constitution and course of external nature, and with his own relations to it. The whole world is a Sinai whence the great Lawgiver is perpetually issu- ing His commands. And God has made man capable of deriving happiness from every act of voluntary obedience, and represents Himself as glorified by it. In other words, God has been pleased to identify man's happiness with his own glory the ultimate end of creation with man's proximate end, his own well-being. A supreme regard, then, for the will and character of God is, under such a constitution of things, the only principle of action suited to our nature. OBLIGATION. 253 22. For, as to ourselves, since each of all our actions is amenable to law, and since to each is appended results deter- mined by omnipotence, it is clear that our happiness can be secured only by the harmony of our conduct with the law. And as we are voluntary beings, we cannot be happy unless we act as we choose. In order to our happiness, then, we must obey, and obey because we love or choose to obey. Perfect obedience to God, and obedience emanating from love, are, by the very make of our nature, essential to our happiness. As to others, we have seen that every man is endowed with the power of exercising considerable influence over others, for good or for evil. But this influence has a tendency to propagate itself in every direction, and for ever. Evidently, then, it is of the first importance that it should be under the direction of Him who seeth the end from the beginning ; and man is under obligation to exercise only such influence, and in such a manner as He shall prescribe. As to the Divine Being, our relations to whom, as to the Being who has made us what we are, lay us under an unlimited obligation to obey Him. Even if we owed our exist- ence to another, we could not become acquainted with the infi- nite excellence of the blessed God, without being bound to render it unlimited homage. But the fact that we owe our creation to Him, adds the strongest motive to the prior obliga- tion. Our obligation to love and obey him, then, is twofold, first, as arising from His inherent excellence, or His character absolutely considered ; and, secondly, from His relative excel- lence, or conduct towards us. And such are his benevolent arrangements in this latter respect, that the very gratitude which His conduct demands, adds to our enjoyment, and still further increases our obligations. 23. If man's co-existent relations oblige him to know and love to serve and enjoy God to the utmost, the obligation is continuous. The duty of any one moment is the duty of every moment. If there is no moment in which his relation to God terminates in which he can say, for example, " during this moment I am entirely, and in every sense, independent of God" there is no moment in which he is not under obligation to God. If there is no moment in which his dependence on God is less than absolute, there is none in which his obligation to God is not supreme. During every successive moment of his existence, his creation is, in effect, repeated, so that whatever his obligation was, as creature to Creator, during the first moment of his being, that amount of obligation has gone on 22 254 MAN. repeating itself during every moment since. In fine, if there be no moment in which lie is not receiving, to some extent, the results of all the Divine perfections, and thus sustaining a relation to each and all of them ; and if there is not a moment in which God is riot infinitely more excellent than all the uni- verse besides, then must his obligations to know, love, serve, and enjoy God be continuous. 24. His obligations are ever-increasing. How early they begin it is impossible to say. For though indications of moral character are early discoverable, these indications presuppose the character itself, and leave us ignorant how much earlier it begins to come into existence. But however early it may be, it is evident, that as from that moment our moral relations go on increasing without intermission, our obligations go on increas- ing in precisely the same ratio. Every day finds us entirely dependent upon God, and adds to pre-existing obligations new- ties arising from the new favors of the day. Every day brings with it additional opportunities of knowing and serving God, and the corresponding obligation to improve them. And the effect of this improvement of them would be, that every day would leave us, as progressive beings, with an increased capacity for virtue, and consequently under a greater obligation to virtue. Plow palpable, then, is the error which teaches, in effect, that incapacity for faith or obedience, even when produced by a man's own previous acts and habits, diminishes the obligation to faith and obedience ; whereas, on the contrary, every man is bound to be always prepared to meet every Divine requirement with all that capacity for obedience which he would have pos- sessed had his capacity at each preceding moment been the ever-enlarging result of constant improvement to the utmost. Now as it is impossible for us to conceive that any limit can ever be placed to the relations in which we stand to God, it follows that no limit can be assigned to the progress of man's capacity for excellence. He contains the elements of indefinite improvement. 25. Man's obligations are ever varying. Not only do his relations change through every stage of life from less to greater, and, consequently, his obligations change from less to more numerous and imperative, but his obligations of to-day are modified by those of all the past, as these again will enter into and modify his obligations for all the future. An obligation once incurred is never entirely, arid in every sense, dissolved (such, for instance, as that arising from the bestowment of a OBLIGATION. 255 benefit subsequently withdrawn) ; but, after ceasing to exist in its original and specific form, continues in a general manner to enter into and strengthen every other obligation forever. 26. His obligations are universal and unlimited. No part or property of his nature can be named which is not under obliga- tion, for no part or property can be named which is not related to the Divine Nature, and which has not been placed in that relation ultimately for the highest end. God is; and, as a creature of intellect, man is bound to know him. God loves ; and, as a creature of affection, man is bound to love Him su- premely, and to place all he has, as the gifts of Divine love, at his disposal. God wills ; and, as a voluntary creature, man is bound to will in harmony with Him. In all this God reveals Himself to man, and, in effect, addresses him ; and, as a crea- ture capable of speech, man is bound to respond to " call upon his soul and all that is within him to bless His holy name." And when he has consecrated speech, property, influence, his all, by his own voluntary act, to the glory of God, and has pre- sented himself as a living sacrifice, he has only performed a reasonable service. He is still an unprofitable servant, and has only done what it was his duty to do. To exceed his obligations is impossible. 27. From which it follows, that if man fail in duty in any respect, he can never supply the deficiency by any amount of subsequent obedience ; for the utmost amoimt of obedience he can render would have been due at every subsequent moment, even if no such previous deficiency had occurred. And this alone shows the remediless nature of disobedience under a system in which universal and unlimited obedience is at every moment due. But this is not all ; for while no act of obedience can exercise a compensative effect retrospectively, disobedience can and does project a disqualifying influence on a man's future conduct. Sin impairs the moral nature. Each failure has a tendency to repeat itself, and to render him less capable of virtue, forever after. What, then, it might have been said on the creation of the first man what if a wrong affection, or an act of violated duty, and a tendency to perpetuate the violation, should obtain in an early stage of his history ! Who can foresee the tremendous consequences? What if the evil thus early introduced into the constitution of the first man should propagate itself, generation after generation, through all his posterity! Either the race will reach a point in which it will render its own progress impossible, or else a remedial process will be 256 MAN. indispensable. And, looking at the extent of man's obligation, or at the innumerable points at which duty may possibly be violated, who must not have anxiously awaited the result of lu's probation ! 28. From this survey of human obligation, we see also that the cultivation of a devotional spirit, and the habit of prayer, and the stated worship of God, would have been the duty of the first man, even apart from all direct or verbal intimation from God to that effect. The system into which he had been brought was entirely dependent upon God, and expressive of certain perfections of the Divine nature ; and a devout state of mind is simply the intellectual recognition of this fact with the accompanying moral emotions. Man himself, with his capacity for knowing and loving, serving and enjoying God, sustains the same relations of entire dependence on God ; and a devotional temper consists simply in having this fact present in the con- sciousness. But such is the constitution of our nature, that the continuance and growth of a devotional spirit depend, like any other temper of mind, on its utterance or appropriate outward expression. Now, prayer is one of the means for evincing its existence, and promoting its increase. If man is dependent on God and under obligation to him, prayer is simply the recogni- tion and avowal of the fact, and must therefore form a part of his obligation. If man is so constituted that he cannot commune with excellence, and admire it, without being assimilated to it, and thus having his capacity for excellence increased, then prayer is a duty, for it brings man into ennobling communion with infinite excellence ; and the highest possible increase in moral excellence is a part of man's obligation. If a Divine intimation be given that such communion with the Deity shah 1 be positively rewarded with direct impartations over and above its natural or constitutional results, the obligation to prayer is still further increased. And if, beyond this, the Divine will should distinctly appoint a place, or a time, or both, for man's more special worship, his obligation to " draw near to God," would be greater than ever ; and each act of obedience to this appointment, would cultivate the spirit, and confirm the habit, of obedience, and thus increase his capacity for it for all the future. Such were the obligations of unfallen man to the wor- ship of God ; arising from the constitution of his nature, from the appointment of a sabbath, and probably from certain oral intimations of the Divine will. Experience has shown, indeed, that these obligations, great OBLIGATION. 257 as they are, were susceptible of increase ; and man himself might possibly have conjectured it. What (he might have said) if it should ever come to pass that man should violate his obli- gation, and need a special intervention of God to save him from self-inflicted ruin ; and what if God should, in some way, gra- ciously interpose for his rescue ; here would be a new relation established between God and man, and a new obligation resulting of surpassing cogency. This possibility, we know, has become a reality. And penitence is the feeling which springs from the perception of violated obligation. And prayer now includes the new elements of deprecation, and gratitude for deliverance, and rests on obligations unknown to innocent man. 29. In relation to primitive man, then, the law of obligation is clear. Every created thing necessarily expresses something of the Divine Nature. It receives existence on the condition of manifesting that resemblance, and thus contributing towards the great end of creation. It is placed in a system of relation to other things and beings in order that such manifestation might be possible. So that every relation has its corresponding obli- gation ; and, therefore, the first man, as well as each of all his posterity, exists under an obligation to promote the great end of creation commensurate with his means and relations. If the question be still asked, Why is such obedience due ? or, what is the ground of this obligation f I must refer to the answer implied in the preceding paragraph, and which is involved in the whole of our theory namely, that, while the ground of moral obligation consists, proximately, of the purpose or will of God, it consists ultimately of that great Reason on which that will itself is based. For unless it be absurdly supposed that the will which determined the present condition of things acted without reason, then, the reason which led to it, and of which the Divine will itself is the expression, is the ultimate basis of the existing constitution of moral obligation. And, then, as the actual reason of that obligation must have been, an original and necessary difference in the actions and dispositions required, from their opposite?, or an intrinsic propriety and excellence in them, it follows that the reason of the obligation is eternal and immutable. And if the reason be unchangeable, then the obli- gation which rests on it must be unchangeable also. That is, it is the necessary and unalterable duty of every accountable being to be perfectly conformed to all the relations in which he has been placed. So that virtue, or holiness, which is virtue in its highest and most comprehensive meaning, is, as it regards man, 22* 258 MAN. the entire accordance of his affections and actions with all the relations in which he has been placed, of which accordance the perfect will of God is the rule, and the intrinsic excellence of holiness as summed up in the unlimited perfection of the Divine Nature, is the primary and ultimate ground or reason. Beauti- fully and truly has Hooker said,* " Of Law there can be no less acknowledged, than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world. All things in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power ; both angels and men, and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all, with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy." CHAPTER XII. UNIFORMITY; OR, GENERAL LAWS. 1. THE subject of the preceding chapter Obligation pre- supposes the operation of general laws. For, apart from the uniformity arising from the existence and maintenance of even physical laws, there could be no happiness, no safety, to the creature ; and, consequently, nothing could ever be known of the perfections of the Creator, nor could man be under obliga- tion to obey Him. 2. Now we have seen that such laws have existed from the beginning. The plant had a constitution suited to the pre-es- tablished constitution of the material universe ; and its growth depended on the harmonious co-operation of its own laws with the laws of that pre-existing economy. The animal had a constitution given to it suited to the laws of the pre-existing universe, including the vegetable kingdom ; and its well-being depended on its constant conformity to these pre-existing laws. And in relation to the constitution of that universe into which it was introduced, its every motion was physically right or wrong ; and, as a consequence, was beneficial or injurious to itself. If an animal, for example, ventured to the side of a cliff where its * Eccles. Polity, B. I., 10. UNIFORMITY. 259 foot was not adapted to sustain it, and fell, it had placed itself in a wrong relation to the law of gravitation, and it suffered the consequence of violating that law. That is, there was a right kind of place for it in creation ; and it was under physical obli- gation or necessity to remain there. 3. Let it not be supposed that I am claiming for the laws of the physical world the same necessary and immutable basis as for the laws of the moral constitution. The laws of nature are not to be confounded with causes. There can be no laws of a thing until the thing itself is caused, or made. They pre- suppose such causes, or volitions, of which they are the effects or manifestations. In other words, they are the rules by which God is pleased to regulate the phenomena of nature. The ex- isting form of the physical constitution, therefore, is entirely dependent on the will of God. Every one of its laws, when creation is vieAved on a comprehensive scale, is, for anything we know, as strictly provisional as any of the temporary enact- ments of the Jewish ritual. The regularity of nature, for un- numbered ages, is quite compatible with subsequent changes in its constitution. Its present uniformity is only conditional. Indeed, every destructive earthquake, though itself the result of general laws, is, in so far as it is destructive, a breach of that uniformity and stability of nature, for which the animal is made, and shows that such uniformity is not inviolable. While the successive appearance of races of animals, entirely unknown to pre-existing nature, shows that it is a uniformity as compatible with the addition of new creations as with the destruction of old ones. Still the order of sequence, which each law implies, being established, the animal is under physical obligation or necessity to respect it ; and inevitably suffers if found in a wrong relation to it. 4. Suppose, then, that having suffered from a violation of one of these laws from ignorance of the sequence, for example, between contact with fire and the injury of the limb burnt suppose that, immediately on that injury, an animal had been endowed with intelligence and conscience, so as to recognize in that sequence a Divine appointment, forbidding it to repeat the act on pain of certainly repeating the injury, it would then be under a moral obligation to respect it ; and its not doing so would be guilty as well as wrong. And then, besides the pain inevitably following the violation of a physical law, the viola- tion of a moral law might be expected to be followed by an in- dependent penalty of its own. 260 MAN. Now, man comes into a system of fixed relations and con- sequent obligations a system of which physical laws are only the exponents and means ; and, unlike the instance of the ani- mal which we have just supposed, he brings with him the ele- ments of a moral as well as of a physical constitution. And there may be a right and a wrong in his every movement in respect to the constitution into which he comes, moral as well as physical ; and he may enjoy or may suffer the consequences, quite apart from all considerations of innocence or guilt Temperance, purity, and truth, are right, and the opposite qualities are wrong ; but if he practise temperance without knowing it to be right, there is no merit, yet he enjoys the benefit of having thus acted in harmony with the constitution into which he has come ; and if he practise impurity, without knowing, or the means of knowing, that it is wrong, though there is no demerit, he suffers the consequences of the act. " An action, by which any natural passion is gratified (says Butler) procures delight or advantage, abstracted from all con- sideration of the morality of such action; consequently the pleasure or advantage in this case is gained by the action itself, not by the morality of it." * The same is true of culti- vating right or wrong states of mind in relation to God or man. There is, as we have before remarked, a right state of mind towards every external object ; and such is the nature of the constitution into which we come, that we cannot cultivate the right state of mind, even though ignorant that it is right, with- out advantage ; nor indulge the Avrong affections, even igno- rantly, without disadvantage. 5. If, however, a man cherish a wrong state of mind, knowing it to be wrong, and, therefore, contrary to the will of God, he becomes guilty as well as wrong. Before, he was wrong only as to his condition, now he shows himself wrong as to his char- acter. Before, he was wrong in reference to that constitution of relations and obligations into which he had come ; now, he is wrong in respect to that Divine Being whose will that constitu- tion is meant to embody and express ; so that even if that con- stitution could be changed to suit the wrong state of his mind, unless the divine will could be changed also, he would still be subjectively wrong as to infinitely the greatest of all relations. Wrong, then, respects his objective relations ; guilt, his sub- jective state, also. All guilt implies wrong, but all wrong does * Analogy, Part I. c. iii. UNIFORMITY. 261 not necessarily imply guilt. Right and wrong respect his hap- piness only ; innocence and guilt respect his virtue also. The former contemplate him as an involuntary part of that consti- tution whose relations and consequent obligations are as immu- table as the great reason on which they repose ; while the lat- ter contemplate him as that moral and accountable part of the constitution by and to whom the Divine manifestation is made, and who is capable of appreciating and voluntarily subserving it. Right and wrong respect his objective relations, and as such are fixed and unalterable ; guilt and innocence are subjective, and vary according to the knowledge, powers, and opportunities of the subject himself. 6. Now, if mere wrong, or the ignorant violation of any of the laws of the constitution under which man has been formed, and which he is supposed never to have had the means of knowing, be attended with an evil in the uniform sequence of cause and effect, how much more may an additional evil be ex- pected to follow, if he violate the law, /mowing it to exist, and to exist as an expression of the Divine will ! " The consequences of any action, then, are to be regarded in a twofold light : first, the consequences which follow the action as right or wrong, and which depend on the present constitution of things ; and, sec- ondly, those which follow the action as innocent or guilty, that is, as violating or not violating our obligations to our Crea- tor." The former may be estimated, but, unless we could measure our obligations to God, the latter must exceed all our conceptions. Hence, it is of the highest possible importance that we should both know our duty, and be furnished with all suitable inducements to perform it. 7. What, then, are the means which the twofold exigence of the case requires ? Evidently, the operation of laws of a two- fold nature. First, that man should possess intelligence to per- ceive that the universe of which he forms a part has a constitu- tion, or is governed by laws. Unless it possessed such a consti- tution, in vain "would it be for man to be endowed with a capa- city for recognizing it. And just as useless for man would it be for such a constitution to exist, unless he were endowed with the .power of recognizing its laws. (1.) If both these conditions, however, exist : if man finds, for instance, that he is created with certain capacities for enjoy- ment, and that certain objects are created and placed around him, precisely adapted to these capacities, it is an evident indi- cation that the one should be exercised on the other, so as to render man happy. 262 MAN. (2.) If, again, it be found that he cannot gratify any particu- lar capacity for enjoyment beyond a certain degree, without inducing pain, and impairing that capacity for subsequent enjoy ment, it is then as clear an indication that such desire is to be gratified only within certain limits, as that it should be gratified at all. (3.) But man is capable of various kinds of enjoyment. If the indulgence of one kind say, that arising from food beyond a certain degree is found inimical to his enjoyment of another kind say, that arising from the pursuit of knowledge the necessity of that limitation is still more authoritatively ex- pressed. (4.) When it is found, further, that certain actions and habits are not only attended with happiness, but that the very exercise, within the assigned limits, of those parts of his nature which the happiness supposes, is itself essential to his well-being, and even to his continued existence, the measured employment of those powers is made still more imperative. (5.) And the case is rendered still stronger if it appear that the same course of conduct which is, on the whole, injurious or beneficial to himself, is also injurious or beneficial to society. History then adds its voice to that of his own individual expe- rience. And although the conclusions thus arrived at are, by supposition, quite irrespective of conscious guilt or innocence, and result solely from the consequences of conduct, he knows the right course concerning such conduct as much as if it had been proclaimed to him by a voice from heaven. And thus the first part of the exigence is met, by which we are to be kept from wrong, in relation to the constitution under which we have been formed. 8. But if this constitution be an announcement of the will of God concerning us, we sustain a relation to Him in every ac- tion we perform which involves peculiar obligations. Hence, secondly, the necessity for that moral part of our nature which makes us aware of our obligations. The Tightness of an act, and our obligation to perform it, are entirely distinct. Having ascertained the will of God respecting an action, or perceived its Tightness, it is important that we should, in addition, be conscious of our obligation to do it. For, as it would be useless for man to be made capable of recognizing obligation to obey the Divine will in a world which contained no expression of that will, so it would be useless for such a constitution as that which is extant to exist, unless man were endowed with the capacity UNIFORMITY. 263 of recognizing the obligation in which it involves him to the Divine Creator. Unless, then, it should be affirmed that man's obligations do not differ in a universe with a God, when that God, too, is its Creator, from what they would be in a universe without a^God (were such a thing possible) ; or, that man's rela- tions to the Infinite Maker of the whole are not so important as his relations to the thing made, and which he is endowed with intellect to recognize, he may be expected to be endowed with a power of recognizing his obligations to God. (1.) If, then, on ascertaining the will of God in reference to any course of action, we are conscious of a sense of obligation to obey it, (an obligation distinct from the motive relating to mere advantage,) this is the voice of a law within us the law of conscience. The perceived tendency of our conduct is one thing, its relation to the Divine will is felt to be another. While the former is seen to be only advantageous, the latter is felt to involve an element of morality. (2.) If, again, this discrimination of the morality of an action be felt to carry with it a reason for its performance superior to every other consideration, this also is the voice of a deep-seated law of our nature. It is an impulsive sense of obligation added to mere motives of interest, and irrespective of them. It is the imperative within responding to the imperative on high, and ut- tering its mandates in behalf of truth and justice, even when the relations of a particular line of conduct to our ease and advantage are unknown to us. (3.) But, more, if it is found that obedience to this sense of obligation, even when it relates to actions apparently trivial, and when the customs of society run in a contrary direction, is attended with more exquisite enjoyment than any other source can yield, the highest evidence is afforded of the existence of the law of conscience within us. (4.) And when it is found that obedience to this law, attended with so much moral enjoyment, is also coincident with, and essential to, our highest well-being, we cannot fail to recognize the provision by which the second part of the exigence is met, and by which we are restrained from guilt in relation to the will of God. If the manner in which the first part of the necessity is met discloses the right or wrong tendency of actions, the man- ner in which the second is met respects the guilt or innocence of the agents. If the former supplies facts, the latter develops ideas. If, by the one, we gradually form convictions, and arrive at conclusions, by the other, we are made conscious of implanted 264 MAN. sentiments and immutable obligations. If the former teaches us the propriety of subordinating appetite to self-love, and self-love to the benevolent affections, the latter commands us to subordi- nate the whole to conscience. 9. Now, in a perfectly constituted intellectual and moral being, it is evident that there would be a perfect adjustment between every external being and quality, and the internal faculties. " 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."* We say, under the proper conditions, for even with intellectual and moral powers suited to his station, man would still be dependent on his Maker for direct information. This will appear if it be remembered that there are many laws, the transgression of which entails suffer- ing, which cannot appear except in the more advanced stages of life, and even of society ; and that, as the mode of teaching natural religion is by experience, " we cannot certainly know what the law is, except by first breaking it." Hence, though the first man was endowed with a perfect moral constitution, it was necessary that God should make to him a special revelation respecting a certain portion of His will. And it might have been expected, d priori, that, in the event of man's nature be- coming disordered, the aid which he would require would neces- sarily include, first, additional light to perceive his relations ; or, secondly, greater moral discrimination to perceive the result- ing obligations ; or, thirdly, additional motives to obey them, or all three conjoined. 10. But, deferring this subject to the close of the next chap- ter, the two-fold generalization of all human actions into those which are right or wrong as related to the constitution of things, and those which are innocent or guilty as related to our obliga- tions to Him who has placed us under this constitution, brings us to the following conclusions: that however disordered man's nature may become, and however much he may come to need the aid we have referred to, he is still, and ever must be, under the relations and obligations of moral government. Ignorant though he may be of the facts, the indulgence of revenge will not the less torment, nor impurity the less debase him. And if, * Wayland's Moral Science, c. iii. 2. UNIFORMITY. 265 knowing that such are the penalties attached by God to these acts and tempers, he yet persist in them, he incurs the additional pain attending a consciousness of guilt. " Duty obliges us, though it does not force us ; and even at the time we violate it, we can- not deny it." To suppose that man's violation of the law would be an adequate reason for its modification, would be to make failure and wrong the law of the constitution, and depravity give law to virtue. 11. It follows, also, that an action may be right without being virtuous right in relation to the constitution of things to which we belong, but destitute of all reference to the will of Him who has called us into it. From which it results, also, that an action may be right in the former respect, while, in the latter respect, it may be not only destitute of virtue, but absolutely sinful. For if, knowing it to be required by the will of God, he yet per- forms it without any regard to that requirement, but solely from some inferior motive, he is guilty of violating the highest obli- gation of which he can be conscious. On the other hand, an action may be wrong and yet innocent, for the man may have neither known the will of God concerning it, nor have had the means of knowing it. Then, further, a man's non-consciousness of guilt is no proof of virtue. It may be owing entirely to his ignorance of duty. And, further, such non-consciousness of guilt, if the ignorance to which it is owing be voluntary, may involve sin of the greatest aggravation. If, by his own conduct, he has disqualified himself for apprehending his obligations, his ignorance may be the greatest enhancement of his guilt, for it may denote the advanced stage to which his moral disqualifica- tion has reached. 12. This view of man's twofold relation imparts an entirely new aspect to creation. The physical constitution of the world becomes the means of moral government. With the coming of man, the earth became the seat of a Divine monarchy. The constancy of nature, which, under the previous or animal dis- pensation, had been essential merely to animal well-being, was now promoted into an instrument of moral rule. Now first, law prevailed in the true and proper meaning of the term. Hitherto, laws were the mere modes of the Divine operation in nature, and, as such, existed only in the mind of God. But now they existed in the mind of man also. He had ideas answering to them. Each of them announced itself to him with the author- ity of a Divine appointment. His intellectual nature enabled him to perceive its inevitable tendency. His moral nature intro- 23 266 MAN. duced him to its Author, and made him conscious that he ought to conform to it. However conditional on the will of God its particular form might be, yet coming to him as an expression of that will, it placed him in a relation to God, involving an obli- gation which he could not disregard without guilt. For as that will is based on perfect and immutable reason, every relation which man sustains to it, and every obligation resulting from such relation, must be immutable also. 13. Let it not be supposed, however, that because God gov- erns according to natural laws, there is therefore no room left for his providential superintendence.* That he operates by means of these, does not imply that he is confined to them. They an- nounce, but do not limit, His operations. If by laws of nature, are meant the sequences of causes and effects which existed prior to man's creation, his introduction must surely be regarded as involving the addition of laws entirely novel and unique. His moral nature made him capable, as we have seen, of moral government. Here was a demonstration that the pre-existing laws had not been the measure of the Divine operations ; for here, without disturbing them, God was pleased to add to them. But if by laws of nature are meant those additional laws also both the laws which had regulated the course of nature prior to man's creation and to which man is configured, and also the new laws which are proper to his moral nature among these latter there may be laws which leave room for Providential in- terposition and spiritual operation, though without disturbing the former laws any more than his creation did. Both may be com- prehended in the same great plan, and the latter may be even the supplement and complement of the former. So that if one party should ascribe a disease or an untimely end which a man had brought on by his own misconduct, to a violation of the laws of nature, and if another should regard it as a dispensation of Providence, they need not be regarded as opposed to each other. Both are, in reality, equally correct. The former errs only on the supposition that he views the laws of nature as real exist- ences, not as mere modes of Divine operation, but as exclusive, independent, and unconditional ; the latter errs only on the sup- position that he views the evil as traceable to the Divine sove- * Many of the natural laws are forcibly illustrated in Mr. Combe's " Constitution of Man." It were to be wished, however, that while suc- cessfully rescuing these laws from the hands of ignorance and superstition, he had not, at the same time, apparently ignored the providential superin- tendence of the Law-giver. WELL-BEING. 267 reignty, rather than to the Divine equity as an arbitrary infliction, rather than as the natural and righteous result of the in- fraction of laws by which God governs the world. Proximately, the evil results from the violation of natural laws ; ultimately and efficiently it results from that omnipresent Being in whose will the entire scheme of things at first originated, by whom it is maintained in constant operation, and to whom it is always com- petent to touch the springs of human volition by influences unknown to material laws, though perfectly compatible with them, as well as with the moral freedom of the man, and even in order to it. Viewed as flowing from the operation of natural law, it is opposed to the ideas of chance and caprice ; viewed as resulting from natural law, under the administration of a super- intending Providence, it is equally opposed to blind necessity or fate. CHAPTER WELL-BEING. 1. THE ideas of obligation and law, developed in the two chapters immediately preceding, prepare us to expect, in har- mony with another of our laws, " that man will be found to enjoy an amount of good or well-being proportioned to the dis- charge of his obligations." His nature necessarily expresses something of the Divine Nature. He is brought into existence in order to express it. He sustains relations adapted to elicit and receive the manifestation. And he is held under obligation to this effect. He cannot, therefore, fulfil the law of his being, without enjoying well-being. For, to manifest whatever his na- ture is calculated to exhibit of God, is to stand related, on one side, to the greatest of Beings, and on the other to the greatest of ends. Nor could he be supposed to be in any way deprived of his right to happiness while thus fulfilling the highest end of his existence, without the great end itself being, in so far, de- feated. And if the nature of God be infinitely holy and happy, and His will be the dictate of His nature, then in proportion as man conforms to that will, his well-being rests on the immutable basis of the Divine nature. 268 MAN. A regard to his own well-being, indeed, is not to be the su- preme motive of man's obedience. His highest incentive is, as we have seen, to be derived from the highest object a regard to the character and will of God. But it might be expected an- tecedent to experience, that, in the government of a perfect Being, the greatest good of the creature would be made coincident with the highest glory of the Creator. And as far as we know, or, according to the most enlarged views we can form of the Divine administration, it is so. 2. Viewing man's nature apart from his external relations, we may remark generally, that his well-being at any given mo- ment, depends on the actual presence, the orderly development, and the due activity, of every essential part of his constitution. Let either of these conditions be wanting, and the derangement, or defective state of the whole, must be the inevitable conse- quence. Let the appetites be indulged beyond the appointed limits, and the higher faculties will exist comparatively in vain ; every such indulgence brings him nearer to the level of the ani- mal. Let them be restrained beyond a certain limit, and, even though the occasion be devotion itself, his moral and mental powers will share in the evil consequences, as well as his physi- cal. Let his intellectual powers fail to be duly exercised, and in vain will the laws of the external universe exist, and even execute themselves upon him ; they will convey no information to his mind ; and, consequently, every other part of his nature will suffer. Let his sense of duty fail to be adequately exer- cised, and in vain will his relations to the external universe testify to him of the will of God. And thus every physical de- fect is an intellectual injury ; and every intellectual injury a moral evil. On the other hand, let all the parts of his constitu- tion be present, and, even if at any given moment, his subjective nature should be wrong, as to any of his objective relations, he will only need to perceive these relations in order to harmonize his affections and conduct with them ; just as on awaking in the morning, the presence of light is all that is necessary to prepare him to adjust his movements to the surrounding objects. That is to say, no change of his constitution will be necessary. 3. Regarding his nature as successively existent, let all the conditions to which I have referred, be present from the first, and let them be subsequently maintained in due subordination, each would be found to keep pace with all the rest in a course of constant progression, to minister to their well-being, and to the happiness of the whole man. But let any of these conditions WELL-BEING. 269 be wanting, and a new view of the consequences appear. Man's nature, as we have seen, is continuous and accumulative ; his character, at any one period of his existence, being the exact result of all that it has been through every preceding period. " Many men fancy that the slight injuries done by each single act of intemperance are like the glomeration of moonbeams upon moonbeams myriads will not amount to a positive value. Perhaps they are wrong, possibly every act nay, every separate pulse or throb of intemperate sensation is numbered in our own after actions ; reproduces itself in some future perplexity ; comes back in some re visionary shape that injures the freedom of action for ah 1 men, and makes good men afflicted. At all events, it is an undeniable fact, that many a case of difficulty, "which in apology for ourselves we very truly plead to be insur- mountable by our existing energies, has borrowed its sting from previous acts or omissions of our own : it might not have been insurmountable, had we better cherished our physical resources." We accept this view as more than a speculation. " Physiology," says Liebig,* " has sufficiently decisive grounds for the opinion, that every conception, every mental affection, is followed by changes in the chemical nature of the secreted fluid ; that every thought, every sensation, is accompanied by a change in the composition of the substance of the brain." Whether we receive this statement as physiologically true or not, it is certain that, in the account of psychology, every mental movement has a real value. As a creature of memory, every thought which man voluntarily entertains will abide with him forever. If it be a thought in harmony with the Divine will, and he has acted in harmony with it, it will never cease to yield him good ; if he have not so acted, it will never cease to reproach and condemn him. If it be an evil thought, and he have repented of it, and have not carried it out into action, it can yet never cease to be an occasion of regret. If he have not repented of it, it remains with him, in effect, as an ever-running fountain of pollution. How terrible the ordeal of having to meet the sinful thoughts of a long life of guilt ! How fearful the prospect of having to confront them, not for an age, merely, or a million of ages, but to have the ordeal repeated through every point of endless duration ! 4. Man's nature is progressive also. As a creature of habit, the repetition of a voluntary act produces a tendency to con- * Animal Chemistry, p. 9. 23* 270 MAN. tinued repetition and diffusion. By the repetition of a virtuous act, moral power is gained ; but as less moral power is required to perform that particular act, there is (as Dr. Wayland happily expresses it) a surplus to be expended in the performance of other virtuous acts. By the repetition of a vicious act, moral power is diminished ; but as more moral power is required to resist the augmented power of the passions which prompt to the repetition of that particular act, the likelihood that it will be repeated is increased, as well as that the surplus force of the passions will be expended in the performance of other vicious acts. Thus, like an error admitted into the early stage of a calculation conducted by geometrical progression, and which goes on repeating and enlarging itself at every step of the reckoning, till the unit soon swells into millions, there is not merely a tendency in evil to perpetuate itself, and so to become unalterable, but to multiply itself with a rapidity which defies calculation. In estimating a virtuous action, then, we must not merely look at its immediate consequences these may be the smallest part of the advantage but at the tendency to virtuous action ever after, which it includes and promotes. And in esti- mating a vicious action, we must look not merely at its direct effects, but (what may be much greater) at the tendency to vice which it brings with it. The immediate effects of an act of inebriety may be calculable ; but if the act lead to the habit, the reckoning must include all the vicious courses which that act began to prepare the drunkard for. So that even if he be less answerable for the particular acts committed when intoxi- cated than he would have been had he been sober, the sum-total of his guilt is not thus diminished ; there is only a transfer made of it to a different column of the reckoning namely, to the course of immoderate indulgence, by which he placed himself in a state of moral defencelessriess, and thus qualified himself for the perpetration of evil. In the same way, a man may pervert his judgment, and thus disqualify himself for believing the testimony of the gospel at the close of life, by having begun to yield to the force of his passions early in life. Now, even if he is less guilty for his disbelief under these circumstances than he would have been had he never so yielded, this does not lessen the sum-total of his guilt. He is still responsible, and ever will be, for the process by which he disqualified himself for receiving the testimony of his Maker. 5. From habit results character and its consolidation. By character is not to be understood original temperament, or con- WELL-BEING. 271 stitutional tendency. Such idiosyncracy may be closely related to it, but does not constitute it. On the contrary, character may- overbear it, and be even formed in defiance of it. Character is the slow and conscious product of man's voluntary nature. " As a man thinketh in his heart so is he." It is that which identifies him with his moral self at different stages of his being ; and hence, it is only on the supposition that his character is changed that he is said to lose his moral identity, and to become a " new creature." It discriminates him from all his fellow-beings, as one having "his own way." It places him in a distinctive relation to the government of God. And, as such, it asks for him finally " his own place." However much he may have first apparently resembled others, his character gradually be- comes more and more unique. Like the organs of embryotic life, as soon as character becomes distinguishable, it is found to be specific. And this difference is not merely constant, but ever evolving. Like the slow deposit of an ever-flowing mountain stream, character is always acquiring a bolder outline, and firmer consistency. As a medium of mental vision, it sheds a more decided color on every object on which the mind looks. As a power of assimilation, it gradually ceases to be affected by outward things, but converts them more easily to its own nature, and appropriates them more entirely to its own purposes. It i is subjective ; " the hidden man of the heart," subordinating the outer man, and the outer world, to itself. Its purposes act independently of the feelings of pleasure and pain from which they first took their rise. It is the oracle and earnest of his future destiny. If its aim be to harmonize with the will of God, it is constantly approacliing the unchangeable without, as well as within. At every upward step it is emerging from the un- certainty of probation, into the region of stability and repose. Its path " shineth more and more ;" every sweep of its wing bearing it nearer to the uncreated light, and more within the circle in which every object feels the ever-growing attraction of the Divine Centre. 6. This course of remark clearly presupposes man's objective relations. That he sustains such relations we have already seen ; we have now to show that there is no obligation resulting from these, obedience to which is not essential to his well-being as an integral portion of the great system, and as a subject of the Divine government. For example : as a creature, physical, organic, and animal, there is an appropriate locality for him on the surface of the globe, as well as a state of the atmosphere, a 272 MAN. kind and a quantity of food, and a degree of muscular activity ; and his bodily welfare depends on the constant and perfect adjustment of this part of his system to the corresponding parts of external nature, or, on the entire coincidence of the two. Every element is constantly saying to him, in effect, " I am the servant of God ; use me in harmony with His appointment, and I will minister to your welfare." Every physical law is saying to him, " Adjust yourself to me ; and be strong, secure, and happy." And religion, so far from exempting him from obedi- ence to these laws even for religious purposes, except on the special authority of the Lawgiver, adds its own solemn sanction to enforce compliance. As a sentient being, every object is saying to him, " Stand at such a distance from me, and you shall perceive my color, pro- portions, and all that can be seen of my physical properties. View me from any other point, and you shall 'be the victim of optical illusion. Listen, and you shall hear a thousand melo- dious sounds and warning voices. Be inattentive ; and, for you, creation shall be silent." As a reflective being, let him examine, remember, and compare ; and he will daily increase his knowledge. Let him hold intercourse with others, and he will correct his knowledge. Let him believe the credible testi- mony of another, and he will double it, adding to it the know- ledge of another mind. As a rational being, he cannot refer facts to their first principles without becoming conversant with the infinite and the absolute. And thus the most simple objects and events would remind him of the invisible and the sublime ; and earth become the porch of a temple containing the holiest of all. By his imagination he might enter that temple, and even pass reverently within its awful veil. Being endowed with the powers of speech, he is capable of adding to his own not merely the knowledge, but the power, of another mind. Falsehood, by begetting distrust, cuts off this communication, and leaves the subject of it in a state of unwilling isolation from all around. While scepticism and unbelief place a man in vol- untary isolation from all that could instruct and benefit him in the reciprocity of confidence and faith. Mutual truthfulness and confidence are essential to human happiness ; and, in pro- portion as these qualities exist, (other things being equal,) hap- piness exists. If he carry out his emotions to their appropriate objects, and proportion them to the value of those objects, his life will be one of enjoyment. On the other hand, let them fall short of WELL-BEING. 273 these objects, and he himself will fall short of the end of his being. In that case, his desire of property, if gratified, will, instead of bringing him the pleasures of charity, torture him with the fever of covetousness. Desiring power for its own sake, he will find himself involved in the cares and jealousies of a petty despotism. Desiring emotion of any kind for its own sake, he will go through life, as thousands do, crying, " Give, give ! " and never be satisfied. As a voluntary being, the per- formance of a wrong action involuntarily (only let him not deceive himself on this vital point) will not diminish his moral self-approbation, nor will the involuntary performance of the best action add to his moral enjoyment. Hence the folly of the indevout in expecting happiness from the scenes and services of Heaven. While the conscious and voluntary coincidence of the mind with the Divine will can make it familiar with heavenly pleasures even while here upon earth. As a being endowed with the power of conscience, he is happy in exact proportion as he yields to its enlightened dictates, and becomes the subject of moral approbation. And all this, just because everything cre- ated which co-exists with him, has been called into existence and activity for the same end as himself. The laws of his being therefore, so far from running counter to the laws, physical and moral, of the objective universe, must perfectly coincide with them. Both form parts of one great whole, and have their basis in the Divine Nature. 7. In these remarks, however, we may appear to suppose that the various parts of our nature are of equal importance ; whereas we have found that, in harmony with the law of subor- dination which prevails in the objective universe, a law of cor- responding subordination exists also in the constitution of man. Every part of our nature occupies a place in the human con- stitution, and possesses a right in relation to every other part, according to its power of subserving the end of creation. Thus, we have seen that the laws of appetite must be obeyed ; that the obedience is attended with present gratification ; that it strengthens and prepares the man for the pursuit of higher grat- ifications ; and is essential to the continuance of the race. Pleasures of sense, however, as Paley remarks, continue but a little while at a time ; soon lose their relish by repetition ; soon arrive at a limit from which they ever afterwards decline. Besides which, if I indulge my appetites to excess, I may de- stroy their power of ever after affording me enjoyment. Still more ; as I am capable of deriving gratification from knowledge. 274 MAN. as knowledge is necessary to my well-being, and as it yields me purer and more permanent satisfaction than the gratification of my appetite, I must not indulge my appetite so as to incapaci- tate myself for study. True it is, that neither must I study so as to be disabled from partaking of my necessary food. Each gratification is right within certain limits. The unlimited allow- ance of either would be destructive to the man, and to the race. But if one is to be subordinated to the other, if the question be whether the pleasures of appetite or of intellect rank higher, there can be no hesitation respecting the answer. But man is to inhabit the future, and the future, on various accounts, ranks higher in importance than the present ; higher in point of duration ; and higher in this important respect, that it will find him more capable of happiness or of misery than he is at present. Accordingly, Self-love, or a regard for his well- being on the whole, requires him to subordinate even his present chirst for knowledge ; and in proportion as he practises a wise self-denial for this end, he is benefited and happy. But I am made chiefly to subserve the great end ; to know, love, voluntarily serve, and subordinate myself to, the will of God in the manifestation of His glory. This is the true and ultimate reason of my existence. Only let my self-love itself, then, take the form of love to God and obedience to Him, and it becomes coincident with His highest glory ; while, on the other hand, my regard for His glory is coincident with my highest well-being. And this is the only motive which is so. Thus, if an act which conscience had often dictated, is performed by me, at length, to gratify my passions, I lose the pleasure of virtue, and lay myself open to the pains of remorse. If I per- form it from self-love, though I gain whatever advantage belongs to the action according to the constitution under which I am placed, still I lose the pleasure of rectitude. " Verily, I have my reward." If I perform it from a benevolent impulse, a yet higher gratification is enjoyed, and one including the prior kind of advantage, in another form, also ; but still the pleasure of conscious obedience is wanting. But if I perform it from affectionate obedience to the will of God, I secure, in other forms, all the advantages flowing from the other classes of mo- tives, and the nobler rewards of conscious conformity to the Divine will, in addition. The stream cannot rise higher than its source ; nor can the reward of an action transcend the level of the actuating motive. If, like the pure river, clear as crys- tal, it " proceed from the throne of God," thither it will conduct WELL-BEING. 275 me to " see His face." A supreme regard for His will, I re- peat, is coincident with my highest well-being. How can it be otherwise ? My nature has been made to manifest his nature, and my will to serve his will. To love and serve Him, then, is to keep every separate part of my nature in harmony with every other part, and the whole in harmony with Him. To be like Him, is to share his happiness. To sympathize with Him, is to find perfection. Every part of man's nature, then, was meant to be perpetually crying out for the living God. And, still, the highest distinction we can think of is expressed when we say, " We shall be like Him ; " " we shall be satisfied when we awake up in His likeness." 8. But man sustains also external relations successively ex- istent. And there is no obligation of this class, obedience to which is not essential to his well-being. While everything within him and without him points, as we have seen, to an end- less duration of being, in which all the results of past conduct and character pass into every present moment, and so on- wards to all the future. Here the field widens into a bound- less prospect ! For if no holy thought or emotion is ever to be entirely lost out of my nature ; if it be the tendency of every virtuous emotion and action to reproduce itself and to produce others like it ; if every virtuous movement thus tends to en- large my capacity for virtue ; and if God, to whom I sustain the most intimate objective relation, be infinite, and my own duration be unending, then, " it doth not yet appear what we shall be!" 9. Here, then, as Butler remarks, is " the proper formal notion of government ; the annexing pleasure to some actions and pain to others, in our power to do or forbear, and giving no- tice beforehand to those whom it concerns." Here is Obliga- tion, together with the Laws which it presupposes, and the Sanctions which they imply in the known results of obedience and disobedience. The fact that there is no formal arraign- ment, no jury, no public trial, no judicial pageant and parade, often no lapse of time between the transgression and the pen- alty, forms no objection to this view. What civil magistrate would not gladly see his laws taking sure and silent effect in a similar manner, executing themselves upon the offender, without any magisterial interposition, or the formalities of a judicial pro- cess ? His noise and pomp are only the concealments of his weakness. His intrusive inquisitions and balancing of evi- dence betray his self-distrust. His elaborate objective arrange- 276 MAN. ments and appeals confess his conscious impotence over the subjective, 10. Nor is it any valid objection to this view, as some sup- pose, that pain is not necessarily punitive, but may be only monitory. The true explanation appears to be that it may be both ; that it may be made either by the subject of it ; and was designed by the Moral Governor to be what the subject made it. That is to say, that, in the case of involuntary wrong, it is meant to warn ; that in the case of voluntary wrong, or guilt, it is meant to warn and also to punish ; and that when, owing to circumstances, it can operate only as a punishment on the transgressor himself as when it proves fatal to him, or when it consists partly in indisposing him to amendment it is still meant to act as a warning to others. 11. Nor can it be justly objected to this view of moral gov- ernment, that guilt and its supposed punishment are often sepa- rated by a wide interval, and that in some instances the punish- ment does not appear to follow at all. The truth is, that the system of government under which we are placed is not en- tirely developed in the present state. Even where vice appears to be instantly punished, it is only the commencement of the punishment that is seen. No one has ever seen the full result of any act either of virtue or vice in this world. Death inter- rupts or suspends it, as far as the present life is concerned. If^ however, the existing state could be perpetuated, the penal con- sequences of every sin would sooner or later be found taking full effect. Every man would have a day of judgment in his his- tory. And it is the ineradicable conviction of the human mind that those consequences, interrupted or suspended here, are cer- tainly resumed and developed elsewhere. Often, indeed, the consequences of a guilty act appear and infix themselves on the doer at the distance of half the globe from the scene of the transaction, and after the apparent slumber of years ; showing that he has never been really out of the hand of justice. And this reminds us that the true reply to the objection is that the separation between guilt and punishment is only apparent ; that the first element of punishment consists in the depraving ten- dency of the guilty deed itself; so that the sin infolds its own punishment ; from the same root grow the tempting fruit and the rod that chastises. The punishment of which the objector speaks is only one of the visible results of the transgression. The invisible consequence may be incomparably greater ; and this, we repeat, begins with the very act of transgression. They WELL-BEING. 277 are a twin birth. The transgressor is " a sinner against his own soul." Sin arms him against himself. It is his own nature which he violates. The blow aimed at the law falls on himself, not by rebound, but directly ; for he enshrines the law. " His sin is ever before him." Amidst the silence and solitude of the desert there is a voice accusing him ; and during the midnight slumbers of all around him, there is an eye sternly upbraiding him. Or it may be that he sins with little compunction. But can this be considered a felicity ? It only proves that his moral disease has reached an advanced stage. He is " past feeling." The outward man may be unscathed, but the lightning has dis- charged its stroke on the spirit. His " conscience is seared." And this punishment which denaturalizes and destroys waited not even for the first act of sin ; with the first thought of evil it had already begun to take effect. 12. Now of such government the first man was a subject. With him, probably, it commenced on earth. From the mo- ment of his creation he enclosed within himself a whole system of moral government laws, and judge, and prison, and instru- ments of torture, if he disobeyed ; rewards, and happiness, and conscious improvement, if he obeyed. The law was in him and around him. Nowhere was he beyond its jurisdiction. Nothing escaped its unslumbering eye. Never was he dis- missed from its presence. Every object and event offered itself as its exponent and instrument. Pure, calm, and uniform, as omnipotent holiness, it saw no difficulty, bent to no indul- gence. Man's own nature was its judgment hall ; his capacity for holiness its medium of reward ; his power of sinning its in- strument of punishment. This was truly the majesty of law, and the perfection of government. 13. As the subject of this government, man possesses the requisites of natural religion. Its sources are, as we have seen, the constitution of the mind, the light derivable from the laws of external nature, and from the administration of Providence. And these means of religious knowledge exist for the human mind in the order in which they are here stated. The prov- idential administration presupposes the laws of nature, for these are the laws administered. A governor supposes laws by which his government is conducted. And these natural laws, again, presuppose man's intellectual and moral constitution, for to that constitution they appeal, and by it they are interpre- ted. Apart from that constitution, these laws have no intel- lectual nor moral meaning. Strictly speaking, they are only 24 278 MAN. manifestations of laws, the ideas of which exist in the mind of God, and the corresponding ideas to which they are designed to awaken in the mind of man. They stand face to face with him, therefore, assured that he is constituted to recognize their origin and import. Susceptible of a religious application, they appeal to him as already, in capacity and tendency, a religious being. Written in sympathic ink, they seem to explain him to himself, though it is only by the light of his own mind that their characters are brought out. " Reason (says Locke) is natural revelation." " For the invisible things of God from the founda- tion of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things which are made, even his eternal power and Godhead."* They proclaim the Godhead only as they are understood. They teach man only as he is constituted to inform and mentally con- strue them. " The things which are made" could convey to him no knowledge of the Maker, did not his constitution place him under the subjective necessity of giving them a religious inter- pretation, and if that interpretation could not be relied on by him as valid. The subjective and the objective then, the physi- cal and the moral, form strictly but one system. They are not two worlds ; but, viewed in the light of natural religion, they constitute one whole. 14. Now, assuming the existence of an intelligent Creator, of a pervading design in creation, of man's capability of under- standing that design, and especially of understanding it as an expression of the Divine will concerning us, it is the office of natural religion to ascertain and arrange our consequent duties. Here, conscience is of primary and supreme importance. As a rational being, man might perceive that he had come into a world animate and inanimate, possessed of a fixed constitution ; that some things were right for it, and other things wrong, in relation to that constitution ; that its laws, if disturbed, were ever vindicating their authority, recovering their place, and publishing themselves anew. As a being sentient as well as rational, capable of pleasure and pain, he might perceive that some things were right for him, in reference to the constitution to which he belonged, and that other things were wrong ; that do whatever he might, he was either benefiting or injuring himself; that even the vibration of pleasure, if continued beyond a certain point, ended in a shock of pain. But all this is only a benevolent arrangement, which preceded his coming. It is a * Rom. i. 20. WELL-BEING, 279 protection from danger, and a source of advantage, which the animal enjoys in common with himself. But as a moral being, recognizing in this arrangement the will of God concerning his conduct, the entire aspect of the economy is changed. The physical constitution becomes a moral government. His relations to that constitution land him in corresponding obligations to its Author. From the region of mere physical right and wrong, he emerges into the sphere of guilt and innocence, merit and demerit. Here God reigns ; and every part of man's nature is under law to Him : law differing according to the part. His appetites, his self-love, his benevolent affections, his religious capabilities : each is to be respected, but only within pre- scribed limits. The domain of each differs in extent and value ; and the regard for the Divine will is supreme. And the more the light of Nature is consulted, the more is the domain of conscience enlarged, and its authority illustrated. In this light, the results of actions are seen, the doctrine of general consequences comes into being. That which is apparently harmless to-day, is seen "bringing forth fruit unto death" years afterwards. An act which appeared to leave the indi- vidual uninjured, circulates poison through the social system. Moral problems are analyzed and solved. Relations come to light in the most unexpected quarters. And motives to conse- quent duty collect and combine their influence from times and places the most distant. Now, the orderly distribution of the relations and obligations thus arrived at, forms the system of natural religion. What man ought to have done in this depart- ment, and what he has accomplished, form, alas ! a humiliating contrast. 15. The knowledge of Nature is, as far as it goes, the knowledge of God. And the more its laws are understood, the more do they " declare His glory." But the same light which reveals His excellence, discloses man's comparative want of it. And this alone should be enough to awaken our doubts respect- ing the sufficiency of natural religion : at least, for fallen man. But, on consideration, we perceive that its insufficiency even for unfallen man is inherent. He could not at any time be certain that he was acquainted with all the relations which bound up his present conduct with his future welfare, and with the welfare of distant ages. Nor could he be certain that he knew either all the obligations resulting from the relations with which he was acquainted, nor the manner in which all his known obliga- tions should be discharged. While, in the event of voluntarily 280 MAN. breaking a Divine obligation but this was a crisis which natu- ral religion had not even contemplated. Other reasons of this in- sufficiency are evident. Many laws would have to be ascertained by induction. Man must experiment on his nature, interpret law by the violation of it. The meaning of some laws would be an entailed question, requiring the experience of generations. While all the certain motives to obedience supplied by natural religion would be derived from the present state. Highly prob- able as it can render the doctrine of a future life probable to a degree which renders the rejection of it inexcusable it can- not speak of it as a fact. It can " testify only to that which it hath seen." While experience proves that even the full expec- tation of future retribution as a revealed certainty, often fails to operate with adequate force. 16. In the event, then, of natural religion being reinforced and enlarged by direct revelation, we can foresee the points to which it will be probably directed. It may be expected to in- crease man's knowledge of his relations, and to make him more deeply conscious of the extent of his obligations, as well as to increase his motives to obedience ; while, on the supposition of his falling into sin, revelation will have a reserved domain, unshared by nature, peculiarly and entirely its own. Now, in the instance of unf'allen man, the departments we have named were precisely those in which the insufficiency of nature was supplemented by immediate revelation. The exigency of the case demanded it. It did not so much forestal his own discoveries, as save his life. Its object was not to exempt him from labor, but to encourage him to it. In a manner which called his bodily and mental powers into exercise, it apprised him of his relations to the king- doms of nature ; thus inevitably inspiring him with gratitude to the God of nature. But, in order that his moral standing might be placed beyond question, a distinct prohibition, guarded by aXvful sanctions, informed him of his responsible relation to God, and supplied the adequate motives to obedience. In a word, it dis- closed to him without loss of time, the twofold fact that he had come into a fixed moral constitution, and that his own constitu- tion corresponded with it. It presupposed his responsible nature, and developed it. 17. From this point we see the error of the fatalistic materi- alism which teaches that our characters necessarily follow from our organization at birth, combined with the effects of subsequent external influences over which we have no control. If, by this, it were only meant that character is the result of man's subjec- WELL-BEING. 281 tive constitution, and of the objective world acting upon it, we could say nothing against it, except that it is an obvious truism. From what could character result but from the world within and the world without ? The question is, however, whether that internal constitution does not contain a faculty which gives man a controlling power over external circumstances. Even the plant and the animal have a constitution which enables them to appropriate and assimilate external elements to their own nature. It is not until that constitution ceases to act, that these elements begin to assimilate and appropriate them. But they are not held responsible for the manner in which their constitution acts, simply because the power which it manifests, operates, as far as they are concerned, mechanically. The human being also acts according to his constitution; but his constitution includes a power which is, not mechanical, but consciously his own. His constitution comes from God ; his character from himself. " But if he receive his feelings and convictions constitutionally, is not that the same as receiving them independently of his will ?" By no means. He is constituted to believe truth on evidence, and to draw conclusions from premises, and so forth. Assuredly, he does not deem this a hardship. But the world contains suf- ficient proof, that, if he will, he can decline looking at the evi- dence, or disqualify himself for feeling its force, or train himself for drawing wrong conclusions as well as right ones. " Yes, if he will but is not his will at the mercy of external causes, and formed by them ?" Influenced by them it is ; and herein, partly, consists its excellence ; for surely it would say little for the constitution of a being, that he was alike indifferent to a world of objects present or absent. But, controlled by them, it is not. A light introduced into the room of a man asleep, may awaken him ; but in disturbing him, it awakens a power which may will its extinction. Or, if it be said that the influence exer- cised over him by his fellow-men cannot be thus dealt with ; the answer is, that the power of their will implies the power of his ; and that they cannot touch his character except by flrst obtaining the consent of his will. However numerous and powerful the agents, then, which co-operate in the formation of my character, it must be allowed that I am, at least, one of the agents ; that if it is made partly for me, it is also made partly by me. But in- asmuch as my constitution includes a power by which I can will to influence them, and can, therefore, choose whether or not I will be influenced so as to be determined by them, I am more than an agent in the formation of my own character I am the 24* 282 MAN. principal ; and, as such, I am held responsible to the Author of my constitution. And all the agencies which approach me pre- suppose that I am thus in my own power; they seek to gain the consent of my will. 18. Thus, primitive man was brought into a constitution of things in which every object was calculated and designed to in- fluence him, and each to influence him differently from all the rest. But then he himself was endowed with a constitution capable of classifying these objects according to their real impor- tance, and of regulating their power over himself accordingly. Hence the spirit and design of the primal prohibition. It told him, in effect, that he possessed a fixed constitution, including the power of self-government, that he stood at the head of cre- ated things, and was capable of governing them ; that he must not, therefore, allow himself to be governed by them ; and that his security, happiness, duty, required that his will should har- monize with the Supreme Will ; in a word, that his constitution was formed in harmony with the Divine constitution, and could find perfection only by voluntary conformity to it. 19. And here, again, we are reminded of the ideal perfection to which reference was made in the corresponding chapters of the preceding Treatise. In the present instance, however, the subject acquires indefinite interest. For if man have a moral constitution answering to the immutable constitution of the Divine Being, and if his character is to be the intermediate growth and filling up the conscious and voluntary expansion of finite excellence yearning towards the infinite it follows that he will ever have an idea of excellence present to his mind which he may be constantly approaching without ever being able fully to realize, and that to that ideal standard no two human beings will be ever found sustaining precisely the same measure of conformity. Even the flower has a type, that is, the human mind conceives of a type, or ideal standard, with which to com- pare it ; but, according to which, no specimen is absolutely per- fect, nor any two precisely equal. Every kind of animal has a type ; and here, the chances, so to speak, that no animal has ever reached the standard of absolute animal perfection, and that no two of the same kind have ever stood in exactly the same relations to it, are still greater ; for they are to be multiplied by all the additional laws, and all their possible combinations, which characterize the animal as compared with the vegetable econo- my. Man also has a type, but that type is Divine, not merely, as in the preceding instances, a supposed idea in the Divine WELL-BEING. 283 mind, but the very idea itself of the Divine character. For " God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." Not only can man conceive of that image ; by the laws which his God-like constitution involves he can conceive of his own closer resemblance to it, and is impelled perpetually to approach it. In philosophy, he conceives of truths insusceptible of proof; themselves the foundation of all evidence. In science, he can conceive of forms incapable of taking sensible representation. The pure and absolute geometry of his mind is nowhere realized in space. In poetry, and in the fine arts generally, however much of beauty or perfection he may succeed in expressing, his pure idea of it remains unexpressed a vision which he cannot reveal to others. His conception even of the "human face divine" is more exalted than any known to have existed in nature.* What painter or sculptor, for example, has ever yet given a head of " the Man of Sorrows" with wlu'ch we can rest satisfied ? But all these conceptions of ideal excellence are only consequences of our being formed in that likeness which com- prehends spiritual perfection. And the moral government under which man exists is but the ever-present requirement of the Infinite, calling, by its laws, on every part of the nature of the finite to come nearer to it. His other conceptions of excellence he may often feel as if he were close on the verge of realizing; but though he can never feel thus in relation to excellence of the highest kind though the call of that spiritual government of which his nature makes him a subject, will be ever becoming louder and more urgent this fact, so far from depressing, ex- hilarates and delights him. The conditions of his nature set limits to the rapidity of his progress. And so long as he does not voluntarily fall below these limits which would be sin he leaves no occasion for sorrow behind him ; while every on- ward step adds to his satisfaction, opens before him a wider prospect filled with incentives to advance, and inspires him with the ardor of ever-accelerating progress. Thus constantly approaching the standard of infinite Perfec- tion, he would never sustain, for any measurable length of time, precisely the same relation to it. And, for the same reason * The facial angle is 80. The ancient artists not only made it a right angle, the Romans went up to 96, and the Greeks even to 100 ; yet the latter is accounted the more beautiful and impressive. The forehead of their Jupiter Tonans overhung the face, denoting grandeur and sovereignty of mind. 284 MAN. on the supposition that his race had remained in unsinning obedience and yet had multiplied no two of them all would have borne, in every respect, the same degree of resemblance to it. Every one would come into existence, or would find himself placed, in circumstances somewhat differing from those of every other member of the human family. This difference, looking at the innumerable relations of man's nature, internal and external, and the inexhaustible combinations of which they are susceptible, admits of interminable variety. And as, from the first moment of responsible existence, the capacity of each would be put in stress up to the measure of his capacity for obedience, every such difference would continue to be exhibited in its relation to the standard of absolute perfection. Not one of them all would be insusceptible of being characterized. Each would be seen in his way to the goal, but in a different part of the course ; and would feel that with a slight difference in his previous condition, a corresponding difference in his relative position would also have been apparent. 20. But if by the laws of his nature unfallen man could con- ceive of an ever-growing resemblance to God, he could also conceive of an ever-diminishing resemblance to the Divine Image. Such a state of retrogression even the first step in it would be sin. And if even the holy nature of the race would have admitted of endless diversity, what number of ages, what pro- cession of generations, could be supposed capable of exhausting the diversity of character made possible by sin ? " When man had once fallen from virtue, no determinable limit could be assigned to his degradation, nor how far he might descend by degrees, and approximate even to the level of the brute ; for as, from his origin, he was a being essentially free, he was, in con- sequence, capable of change, and even in his organic powers most flexible."* If even his likeness to the norma, or Divine original, allowed scope for unlimited variety of character, what but boundless enormity could be expected to appear when man had lost the very model of excellence, and copied only from the suggestions of his own mind. Spiritually, he will need to be " created anew," to be brought back again to the original type, to " the image of him that created him." And in this renewed condition, and in all the incalculable variety of stages of which it admits, it will be found that restoration to God, and self-resto- ration, are identical. Man's resemblance to the standard of all * F. Schlegel's Phil, of History, i. p. 48. DEPENDENCE. 285 excellence is in exact proportion to his conformity to the laws of his being; and this conformity is the measure of his real happiness. CHAPTER XIV. CONTINGENCE OR DEPENDENCE. 1. WE have seen moral law in its obligation, stability, and essential conduciveness to well-being. Before proceeding to remark further on its immutableness, let us take a survey of the dependent character of the system to which we belong. For " everything created will be found to involve the existence of contingent truth" truth, that is, of which the existence is not necessary, but conditional ; truth dependent on something prior. We are not the iron-bound victims of Fate. A free Being of infinite activity has chosen to create, and to make us at once the representatives and the sharers of His own activity. The wide realms of space confess His creating presence. He hath sown it with worlds. Here, his energy hath expatiated at large, and hath called forth a measureless extent of rejoicing activity. The cosmical arrangements, in all their masses, distances, collocations, and motions ; the terrestrial adaptations to these arrangements ; and the physiological adjustments to these adaptations, all confess " the good pleasure of His will." And man, by his very power of interpreting this confession, receives an intimation that he, too, belongs to the same dependent system, and is invited to survey the particulars of his dependence. That he should be dependent, indeed, is not an optional, but a necessary condition of his existence ; that he should be capable of knowing it, is his distinction and glory. 2. Why was man created when he was neither earlier nor later ? According to the hypothesis of necessary development, life invariably follows its physical conditions. The connection is supposed to be fixed, for these natural conditions are regarded as causes, and the only causes necessary to the production of life, so that if the new form of life did not follow the new con- dition, this law of natural development would prove a fiction. Elsewhere, however, we have shown that such apparent irregu- 286 MAN. larities abound both in the vegetable and the animal kingdoms. Neither did the physical conditions of the earth determine the moment of man's creation. The fact that his race has continued to exist for thousands of years, proves that, as far as physical conditions are concerned, he might have safely come into exist- ence later ; and there is every reason to conclude that the same conditions were sufficiently prepared for his earlier existence. True, there was a period prior to which he could not have been sustained. Geology shows that during the earlier formations, the physical conditions of the globe, and the nature of the ani- mals which existed on it, would have been incompatible with the existence of the human race. But the same science demon- strates that between that period and the time of man's actual creation, there was an immeasurable interval, extending over, at least, the greater part of the tertiary periods, during which there were no such reasons why man might not have existed. Species existed then which are existing still ; and the only reason which can be assigned why man's first appearance was not coeval with theirs, must be sought for in the mind of the Creator. One of the lessons taught by the time of his creation is, that it was dependent on more than physical conditions. His " times are in Thy hand." 3. The same is true also respecting man's earliest locality. He could not have selected it for himself. Nor is it to be sup- posed that the Being who prepared it for him was restricted in his choice. " It does not appear that Nature has everywhere called organized beings into existence, where the physical con- ditions requisite for their life and growth are to be found."* Plants, for example, which would have had no existence in a country but for human agency, often find the new climate and conditions into which they are transported, so congenial to then* nature, that they rapidly take possession of extensive regions, and may even supplant indigenous tribes. The trees of Para- dise would doubtless have flourished in many other places besides " eastward in Eden." While experience shows that the human constitution lias a world-wide adaptation. Indeed, what is the globe at large but an Eden prepared for the race ? The relative distribution of land and water, and the figure of continents, have doubtless influenced the course of the great migrations of the human family, and the progress of civilization. But all that occasions change in the surface of the planet the mountain * Dr. Prichard's Researches, &c., p. 96. DEPENDENCE. 287 chains which divide climates, determine the course of rivers, and sustain vegetable worlds of their own; oceanic currents affecting the intercourse of nations and developing their intelli- gence ; and volcanic forces changing the superficial aspect of the globe and strangely mingling its component parts all these are selected arid appointed agencies. For even if they are referred to a number of permanent causes which have been in operation from the beginning ; we can give, scientifically speak- ing, no account of the origin of the permanent causes themselves. Why these particular natural agents existed originally and no others, or why they are commingled in such and such propor- tions, and distributed in such and such a manner throughout space, is a question we cannot answer. More than this : we can discover nothing regular in the distribution itself; we can reduce it to no uniformity, to no law. There are no means by which, from the distribution of these causes or agents in one part of space, we could conjecture whether a similar distribution prevails in another."* This witness is true. As long as the present constitution and distribution of bodies remain, all their relations and sequences will remain. But both their origin and their continuance are alike resolvable into the will of Omnipo- tence. And He who selected the planet which should become the dwelling-place of the human family, selected also the par- ticular spot which the newly-created parent of the race should occupy. 4. Proofs of contingency pervade the constitution of man. His bodily configuration is specific. No theory of development from pre-existing species accounts for it. That it should neither more nor less resemble any of the myriads of animal bodies by which it is surrounded than it does, is owing solely to the choice of the Creator. We say choice ; for, doubtless, the Divine de- cision is regulated by reasons worthy of infinite wisdom ; and, as such, equally removed from caprice on the one hand, and from a blind necessity on the other. The pleasures of appetite also have been the subject of the appointing will of God. Herbs and water might have been the only articles of human food, as they are of some of the animal tribes. But in appoint- ing otherwise, what complicated foresight and invention were necessary in the construction of all those substances we use for food ; and what exquisite workmanship, not merely in those parts of our body destined to receive pleasure from them, but in * AliU's Logic, i. 417 ; ii. 45. 288 MAN. the whole system to be supported by them. So also respecting the nerves of sense ; each is endowed with a different kind of sensibility, demonstrating that this property does not inhere in them necessarily. Nor can physiology discover any difference between them to account for the difference of function ; leaving us to infer that the arrangement, as far as the properties of ner- vous matter are concerned, is purely arbitrary, and for a defi- nite purpose. But further, the sentient faculties, thus specially constituted, are susceptible only within certain limits. The air did not produce the ear, nor the light the eye ; any more than the ear and the eye produced the air and the light. For the vibrations of the air, which seem in themselves no more calcu- lated to produce sound than to produce smell, do not operate universally ; if the vibrations either exceed or fall below a cer- tain number in a second, they do not produce sound. And how remarkable that the rate of vibration to which the human ear is adapted, should be that which the human voice is calculated to produce ! If light is produced by the vibrations of ether, it is only within certain narrow limits that they effect the eye with the sense of color. In all this we have the results of compli- cated and refined contrivance ; certainly nothing like a material necessity. To say that the nerves must needs have a constitu- tion of some kind, leaves the cause of their actual constitution unexplained. To say that the prior constitution of the globe required that man should be adapted to it, only presents us with two systems of contrivances to be accounted for instead of one. The former, so far from explaining the latter, only doubles the mystery. The prior conditions of the globe were themselves contingent, and require to be accounted for. Their continuance cannot change them into causes ; they are mere conditions still. The body of the first man took them up, and employed them in a manner which showed that the Designer of the one was the Former of the other. With how solemn an emphasis might he have said, " A body hast Thou prepared me." " In Thy book all my members were delineated, when as yet there was none of them." Equally dependent on the choice of the Creator is the consti- tution of the world in which He has placed us. According to the ablest reports of astronomy, neither of the planets appears strictly to resemble it. Earth is a specific place for a specific race of beings. A slight change in our constitution would make us unfit for this world, for we should be receiving from it impressions which it was not meant to impart. A slight change DEPENDENCE. 289 in the constitution of the world would be unsuited to us ; for it would be producing impressions which we were not designed to receive. Our nature, and the world which surrounds it, are ar- tificially adapted to each other. And thus the land of knowledge we are to receive, as far as it depends on external nature, was appointed by God before we were called into existence; for the world was arranged and awaited our arrival, and our constitution was configured to it. Every object around us expresses a divine idea ; and has been devised and placed before us to awaken a similar idea in our minds. Everything in creation is a material sign, by which He seeks to convey the thing signified into our minds ; so that our natural knowledge is just the acquisition of such ideas as he has deemed fit for us, and has then chosen that external nature should represent and suggest to us. 7. Equally does the maximum of our knowledge depend on the Divine predetermination. That is to say, the same hand which has selected the kind, has also limited the number of ob- jects by which we should be surrounded ; limited the avenues of sensation to five ; and has thus restricted our natural know- ledge to the results of the mind operating on these sensations. True it is, that even within these limitations, the means of knowledge are inexhaustible. But still the restriction is spe- cial ; and entirely an object of the Divine choice. Had the Creator seen fit, the materials of knowledge might have been indefinitely increased. The members of the human race, if obedient, might have been successively introduced into new worlds, where such increase actually existed. Restored man will probably become the inhabitant of such enlarged spheres. But probationary man is located where everything is adapted to his probationary state. The means are chosen for a chosen end. We might call attention to the regularity of external na- ture, and to the confident expectation of the mind respecting it. "What would that natural constancy avail unless it were re- sponded to by an anticipation previously in our minds ? It is " the concurrence, the contingent harmony of these two elements, the exquisite adaptation of the objective to the subjective," which reveals the dependence of both on the will of the Creator. 8. The entire economy of the world ivithout was t^e special arrangement of the Supreme Will to suit the freedom of a created will, under obligation to obey it ; and all the other functions of the human mind were made to harmonize with the same special characteristic of man. A slight change in either the subjective 25 290 MAN. or the objective economy the depression of a single power within, or the withdrawal of certain classes of objects without might leave the will to act without adequate motives ; while the exaltation of one of our mental faculties, or the introduction to our notice of a new class of objects, might have the effect of de- throning or overbearing the will, and of thus impairing or de- stroying our accountability. Now all the creative operations were arranged with a special view to that balance of influence from without, and of powers and susceptibilities within, which is essential to a being destined to illustrate and appreciate the Divine character. All those contrivances and collocations of means, which we have elsewhere traced to the Divine Wisdom, are special inventions for this end. All the illustrations of Goodness are rich and varied donations designed for the same purpose. And all the laws and moral arrangements, to which we have pointed in illustration of Holiness, here find their issue. 9. "We have already spoken of man as a dependent immortal. Necessarily immortal he cannot be ; the conditions of his nature forbid it, for he is a creature. Physically immortal he is, for he is a responsible creature, and accountableness implies a per- petuity of existence. This supposes that the Creator might have withheld the mighty boon ; but he has been pleased to make the gift of existence irreversible. No length of possess- ion, however, will ever change its dependent character, or ren- der it an independent power. Through every point of duration it will require to be upheld by Him " who only hath immortal- ity" as a self-existence. 10. Such is a glance at the multitudinous contingencies, sub- jective and objective, which met in the first man, considered co-existently. Let us look at the same classes of contingencies and arrangements as successively existent. In doing this, we quit creation considered as a Divine act, and we enter the do- main of Providence. Creation is the universe considered only in its relation to space ; Providence regards it as related to tune also. The moment creation ended in reference to man, the reign of Providence commenced. Providence selected the lo- cality of Paradise. And, when the creating hand had fashion- ed him, Providence led him into the garden of Eden, where, before, it had planted every tree that was good for food, and had brought together every object which was proper to meet his sense. None but works from the Divine hand were to meet his eye ; and, that he might certainly know his dependence on DEPENDENCE. 291 God, he was to receive some of his blessings from that hand direct. Such, especially, was the divine arrangement in the method selected for the creation of one who should be a help- meet for him. And such appears to have been the special de- sign, both of the divine grant, and the divine prohibition, in re- lation to the fruits of the trees of the garden. All the phe- nomena of the universe, from the first creative volition to the moment which beheld the first man standing in the shade of the tree of life, presented a collection of appointed objects and events, the wisely and benevolently arranged production of " Him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." The entire series depended from the throne of God. 11. Of this dependence, man could not be allowed to remain ignorant, nor to lose sight, without in so far frustrating the de- sign of creation, and therefore of his own existence. And yet this point, which it was so important to secure, was the point at which danger was to be the most apprehended ; and simply and obviously for this reason, that it was the point of coincidence between the human will and the Divine. God had willed that man should be a free -agent, but this very freedom of man's will involved the possibility that he would lose sight of the fact that the entire arrangement depended on another will. The consciousness that he himself was a subordinate cause, was the very thing which, while it called for his deepest gratitude as constituting his chief glory, was in danger of veiling the Prime cause of the whole from his view. His consciousness of sub- jective independence as a free agent, which was yet essential to his freedom, was in danger of concealing from his view his objective dependence, the conviction of which was yet essential to his virtue, for it was simply the perception of the relation in which he stood to God, accompanied with the corresponding af- fection of the mind. Now, in no respect, perhaps, was danger to be apprehended from this quarter more than in the question of man's regular sustenance. The constant recurrence of ap- petite, connected with the constant presence of t^e food which svas to gratify it, was in imminent danger of concealing the benevolence which originated both, especially, too, when it is considered that the only link in the chain of causation which man saw was one consciously supplied by himself, namely, the volition by which he put forth his hand and appropriated the food to himself. 1 2. Now, as if to keep constantly alive man's sense of de- pendence, the Creator gave him to understand that he held 292 MAN. everything that was good for food by a special grant from the Divine Bounty. And as if to intimate the quarter from which the danger was to be chiefly apprehended, He laid a prohibition on one particular tree. The grant of all the rest was only in harmony with other acts by which God had signified to man the great lesson of his dependence. The solemn prohibition of this, was as if the Creator aimed to concentrate the whole doctrine of dependence in a single sentence, and to give it a locality and a visible form. It was as if He had said to his creature, " I give you the wide scope of paradise as the theatre of your will. But, then, you are to remember that / give it you ; that this is the arrangement of my Sovereign will. Not only is it important that you should bear this in mind as a fact, the knowledge of which (as mere knowledge) is as important as the knowledge of any other fact : it is important as a fact, of which you cannot lose sight, without your losing the most pre- cious part of your happiness, and my losing the glory which is due unto my name. Such is the constitution of your nature ; and it is the only constitution which I could give you ; for it is not within the compass, even of omnipotence, to erect you into absolute independence. By necessity of nature you are a de- pendent creature ; nor could I connive at your ignorance or forgetfulness of this essential truth without patronizing the most prolific of all falsehoods. While your will, then, is allowed to range through the wide circumference of paradise at pleasure, I give you to understand that my will shall occupy a central spot shall be enthroned in the midst. To attempt to occupy that spot, therefore, will be to bring your will into collision with my will. To violate my will in that only particular in which I propose to take from you a formal acknowledgment of your dependence, will be an overt attempt at independence. In that case, it is consistent with justice that you should be made to know that your well-being is in my hands. Hear, therefore, my ordination, " In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." Thus, 41 twofold object was secured, the supremacy of the Divine will was asserted, and the freedom of man's will was respected. Man was taught his dependence on the will of God by the very means which informed him of the power of his own will. 13. But all this relates only to man's objective dependence. Was his subjective nature equally dependent on the will of God for its successive existence and operations ? It can be easily conceived that the selection of a particular object for prohibi- DEPENDENCE. 298 tion, and even the possible change of that one object for another, was an arrangement entirely contingent on the will of God ; but in what sense can constant dependence be predicated of man's subjective constitution? First, is he entirely passive in the hand of God ? This would represent the Creator as the only agent in the universe, and the creation of man as only the pro- duction of an additional machine. Is he, then, secondly, to be regarded in the light of an instrument rendered independent of the Divine agency, except after the lapse of particular intervals, when he may need rectification ? Still, this would only seem to represent him as a machine somewhat superior to that which he appears to be in the preceding theory. The third, and the true, theory, appears to be that which regards the Almighty as main- taining, by constant volition, the laws which his will originally gave to created objects. According to this view, a distinction is made between the physical power of willing and acting, and the uses which man makes of that power. For the power it- self, he is always dependent on the continuance of the Divine will to that effect. That is to say, the Creator willed in our creation that such and such operations of our mind should inva- riably show us things as they are, harmonize with those things, and conduce to our happiness. The fact that they did so at first, proves that He willed it ; and the fact that they continue to do so, proves that He continues to will to that effect. In the same way, events disclosed that in the constitution of the first man the Creator had willed that under given circum- stances his sensations, thoughts, emotions, conscience, will, should all tend to right action ; that in certain other circum- stances they would end in wrong action ; and that God contin- ued to will this physical power of man's nature irrespective of the consequences likely to ensue ; or, without interfering with man's free agency. The same will which originated the laws of man's constitution continued to maintain tfrem in operation. So that man was as immediately dependent on the Divine will for the second moment of his existence as he was for the first, or, as he was dependent for the Volition to which he owed his origination. Nor did his dependence at all diminish with the continued operation of the laws of his nature. They could not exist by habit. They had momently to be renewed. That he was at all, and that he was naturally, what he was, was, at every point of time, dependent on the will of God. In Him, he lived, and moved, and had his being. 14. It is only consistent with this view, or explanatory of it, 25* 294 MAN. to add, that the influence of the Divine volition in sustaining man's physical, intellectual, and moral constitution in being, would doubtless correspond with the particular nature of these respective parts. That is to say, the agency which sustained the physical part would differ from that which sustained the moral, as much as these parts themselves differ from each other. Now the voluntary state of man's mind answering to this constant physical dependence, was that of grateful moral or spiritual obligation to God. Man could not recognize the fact that everything within him was dependent for its susceptibilities and powers on the will of God ; and that everything without him was dependent for its existence, and for its adaptation to his powers and susceptibilities, on the same will, without being conscious of constant and entire physical dependence on God ; and this is a devotional spirit, the essence of prayer. And, then, it is to be remembered that the acts and affections of the mind flowing from this state, (leading to, and consisting of communion with God,) would tend to increase the creature's sense of dependence on God. By the mere physical or natural arrangement of man's constitution, he was made to be more affected by the character and presence of God, than by the presence of any other external object; and to be the more affected by them, the more they engaged his attention. By a providential arrangement, many things were appointed to remind him of God, and of his own dependence on Him such as the appointment of the sabbath, the creation of woman, and the prohibition of a particular act. But if, besides, there existed then, as now, (and there did exist) a distinct moral arrange- ment, by which God and the creature mutually approached in communion, the one to acknowledge his dependence in acts of gratitude and adoration, the other to return these acts in dona- tions of sustaining and ennobling spiritual influence, man was per- vaded and surrounded by means and motives for living a life of faith in his Creator and Preserver. 15. Thus the constitution of man was completed, and the human dispensation commenced. Every line of it was held in the hand of the Creator, and dependent for its continuance in being on his will. Whatever modifications his providence might see fit to introduce, were as contingent on the good pleasure of his will as the modification of the preceding animal economy was by the introduction of the present. By instituting the new laws, he had not parted with the prerogative of legislation, but had rather proclaimed it. He will not impeach his equity in ULTIMATE FACTS. 295 the administration of the new economy ; He cannot forfeit his sovereignty that is, his eternal and unalienable right to main- tain his equity, or to illustrate it by whatever new manifestations He please. For the present, however, the great mediatorial work of creation is completed ; and He, by whom all things had been made, beheld in his creature, man, the manife far, of the Divine All-sufficiency. CHAPTER XV. ULTIMATE FACTS. 1. FROM the contingent let us ascend to the ultimate. For if man be thus directly dependent on the will of the Creator, we may expect to find that his constitution discloses ultimate facts. As it is made up of parts mutually dependent, we may be able to trace signs of the connection through two or three links of the chain. But presently we come to a fact which, for us, is ultimate ; a point where each part passes out of view, and merges in the will of the Creator. Even the manner in which these two or three links are connected, is itself an ultimate fact is not derivable from, nor explicable by, anything of the same kind admits of no physical solution. 2. It is here important to remark that the term law itself, as applied to the processes of nature, denotes properly an ultimate fact. So far from explaining phenomena, it is only a name for the thing to be explained. " A law of nature is a thing con- ceived, and not a thing that [objectively] exists ; and, therefore, can neither act, nor be acted upon." * " It has relation to us as understanding, rather than to the materials of which the universe consists as obeying, certain rules." t It implies a Law- giver, and denotes his purpose to act according to a certain rule. All that we see are its mere manifestations. 3. The misappli cation of the word, then, is still greater wHen it is employed as equivalent to cause. In this case, there is more than the concealment of a difficulty ; there is also the * Sir W. Hamilton's Edition of Reid's Works, p. 66. t Sir J. Herschell's Nat. Phil, 27. 296 MAN. interpolation of an error. " What is called explaining one law of nature by another, is but substituting one mystery for another ; and does nothing to render the course of nature other than mysterious. We can no more assign a why for the more extensive laws than for the partial ones. The explanation may substitute a mystery which has become familiar, and has grown to seem not mysterious, for one which is still strange. And this is the meaning of explanation in common parlance. The laws thus explained, or resolved, are sometimes said to be accounted for ; but the expression is incorrect, if taken to mean anything more than what has been already stated." * Yet the ordinary fal- lacy is, that to discover the law of a sequence the mere fact that one thing precedes another is to discover its efficient cause ; and that, having discovered this proximate antecedent, no other antecedent need be thought of; that the discoverer has taken it out of the hand of God, and of mystery, at the same time ; whereas, not only is the law where it was before in rela- tion to the Lawgiver, but the mystery is often numerically doubled the discovery being the unveiling of a new mystery. Sometimes we even hear of " an explanation of the laws which govern the phenomena of nature." But as, strictly speaking, the laws of nature is a phrase which, taken objectively, denotes only the uniformities existing among natural phenomena, so to speak of these uniformities as if they were producing, regula- ting, or governing powers governing, that is, anything more than our anticipations is obviously absurd. They simply presuppose such powers, and are their manifestations. They are only according to law, and therefore are not produced by it. Laws are not causes, but their consequences. 4. In treating on the facts of nature, then, there are at least three courses open in relation to their laws and causes ; to admit the hypothetical existence of an original cause, a primor- dial necessity, which, as it has no longer anything to do with the universe, is to be studiously kept out of view, and nothing to be spoken of but inherent forces, and their effects ; or to dis- miss this hypothesis of a primordial necessity as a relic of su- perstition, and to sink all idea even of abstract forces as causes of phenomena, attending only to the observation of facts, and the laws of their development; pr to admit that the same intelligent Will which originated the universe, maintains it in operation, not, indeed, by unconnected acts of power, but by a * Mill's Logic, i. pp. 559, 560. ULTIMATE FACTS. 297 constant regular volition, acting according to conditionally estab- lished laws. 5. Of the first course, the distinguished author of " Kosmos" may be regarded as a representative. In his hands, " physical science limits itself to the explanation of the phenomena of the material world by the properties of matter " that is, by forces inherent in matter according to an occult primordial necessity. The moral, as well as the material systems, according to this view, compose one piece of iron mechanism, wound up from time to time, to go for a longer or shorter period, but all moral freedom is denied to the subjects of it ; nor is any recognized even in the occult Necessity which puts it into motion. What the author would think of the moral honesty of a number of reviewers who should analyze his work, and should descant on its vivid pictures of nature, command of language, and richness of illustration, without a single distinct recognition of its author- ship, we know not. But here is a method of philosophizing which virtually and complacently ignores the Author of the universe. Effects are resolved into the forces of nature ; and the mind, thus put off with a word, in the stead of a thing, is to suppose that it has received an adequate explanation, and trains itself to rest satisfied with it. Mind alone, the mind of a Humboldt, can trace the laws of these forces, but no reference whatever is to be made to any Mind as creating and superin- tending them ; in other words, merely to perceive them is a proof of mind sufficient to make the world resound with its fame, but to make them has so little to do with Mind that the world is to preserve a death-like silence respecting it. The mind of the observer, too, -is conscious of moral freedom, conscious that he is the regulating power of his own actions, but the system assures him that this is false, that he is a compelled portion of a vast machine without choice or option : that is to say, he is to confide in his senses, but not in his consciousness ; or, he is to rely on the truth of what consciousness attests respecting the external world, but to disbelieve its testimony respecting the world within : its affirmations respecting that which is not itself, matter, are to be accepted ; but those which relate to itself, and on which the truth of the others depend, are to be discred- ited. 6. Of the second method, M. Comte is, at present, the great advocate. According to him, philosophy, dismissing all theolog- ical and metaphysical ideas, all thought of supernatural powers and of natural forces, must confine itself simply to the outward 298 MAN. observation of facts and their laws. All notion of causation is to be repudiated not merely as hopeless, but absurd, and the only kind of explanation to be thought of is that which resolves phe- nomena into laws more and more general, till the whole shall attain the unity of a single fact. Such is the materialism of the so-called positive philosophy. Now this method is open to all the objections just stated (for the idea of some mechanical cause or power, is, in reality, concealed under the word law'), and to additional objections of its own. According to this view, it is hopeless to ascertain causes, and therefore they are to be treated as non-existent ; as if the human mind were the measure of truth and existence ; or as if the existence of causation depended on our ability to explain it. Let it be supposed, however, that the positive philosophy should go on enlarging its domain of law, until it has reduced all the phenomena of the universe, by one vast generalization, to the operation of a single fact. What then ? When a second Newton shall have succeeded in elaborating and including all the results of experimental philosophy in a single proposition, what is to follow? Will the mind have lost its occupation ? Will it henceforth be doomed to inactivity as a reward ? It will have reached " its pride of place" simply by persevering inquiry. Each new generalization in succession will have appeared in answer to the question, What law is the antecedent to this ? and what to this ? and so on till the last emerges. And what is to stop the inquirer from then looking over the boundary-line of the physical into the region of the spiritual, and asking for the next antecedent there ? A law of his nature, a necessity of his being, has impelled him to repeat the question hitherto, and, unless his constitution be unmade, he will continue to repeat the question for it is not an affair subject to his will until an intelligent First Cause be recognized, or nature demonstrates that it is self-made. And most worthy of remembrance it is, as an " assured truth, and a conclusion of experience (says Bacon) that, in the entrance of philosophy, when the second causes, which are next unto the senses, do offer themselves to the mind of man, if it dwell and stay there, it may induce some oblivion of the Highest cause ; but when a man passeth on further, and seeth the dependence of causes, and the works of Providence ; then, according to the allegory of the poets, he will easily believe that the highest link of Na- ture's chain must needs be tied to the foot of Jupiter's chair."* * Advancement of Learning, B. I. This sagacious truth is admi- rably developed and illustrated in Dr. WhewelFs Bridgewater Treatise. B. III. c. vi. ULTIMATE FACTS. 299 The positive philosophy, occupying itself in the observation of facts, and in the verification of laws already known, resembles a person so completely engrossed in deciphering the letters of an ancient inscription, as to be quite oblivious of the agency which originally produced it ; but he who succeeds in interpreting word after word till the meaning of the entire sentence flashes on his mind, feels at that moment as if brought into close com- munion with the mind which first conceived it. 7. In harmony with the third method which we have indicated, we have elsewhere shown* (beginning with matter}, that, in answer to the question, " "What is its nature ?" we may exhibit it chemically resolved into elements beyond which we cannot decompose it. But not even in the last analysis can we dis- cover in it anything which accounts for its own origination. By a law of our nature, we feel as deeply convinced that we are examining a thing which has been caused, as if we had been permitted to look on it in the first moment of its existence. We have spoken of it not merely as being, but as continuing : not merely as related to space, or co-existent, but also as related to time, or successively existent. All its parts are in motion. At- traction, repulsion, transformation, change of physical relations, are constant and universal. But when we have traced back these changes in any particular class of natural phenomena, in the order in which they occur, to the highest and earliest in the series, we find that it includes nothing to account for its own existence. A primary conviction assures us that the continu- ance of the world, no less than its origination, has its ground in a cause external to itself. 8. Ascending from the chemistry and mechanics of inorganic nature to the vegetable kingdom, we next inquired, What is life ? or, What is the principle which unites all the functions of an organized body in the single result called life ? The physiologist may be able to describe the organization in which life is devel- oped, may trace the organization to the seed, and search the very elements of the seed itself, but he can find nothing there to account for the origination of a living organific power. Even if he could artificially imitate the cells or globules of organic life, still they themselves would be inorganic globules. The very absence of the vital power shows that it is something distinct from form, as well as from mere elementary composi- tion, though it may employ and subordinate both. Pie sees the * Prc-Adaraite Earth, pp. 77, 168, 246. 300 MAN. phenomena of life only after it has begun to work. Life it- self is presupposed and ultimate. But besides existing as an object, in relation to space, life is manifested in an orderly series of processes, or in relation to time. In tracing these sequences, we find a series of laws, each of which is related to all the rest, and all of which refer us to a cause of which they are only the results, and the means of manifestation. One of the first discoveries made by those who vainly attempt to resolve the phenomena of life into the operation of physical agents is, that they must be allowed to indulge in the incon- sistency of supposing a principle not physical, in order even to begin to work out their theory. For a tune, the vital principle was the popular hypothesis ; but this was a principle which, as it did not belong to the domain of physiology, was the very phenomenon which required explanation. The only conclusion warranted is, that the origination of life, and its continuance, alike point to a Life-giving Cause. The regularity of the organic functions, so far from denoting the absence of the Great Agent, is the very circumstance which indicates his presence. Order is natural to Him. We cannot conceive of His agency apart from it. Nor do the organic processes grow less dependent by continuance, as if they could acquire self-sufliciency by the lapse of time. They can never become other than the mere means of the manifestation of an independent and anterior power. But, it may be asked, do not the structural malformations which we occasionally witness seem to intimate that the organic laws are left to themselves? The sufficient answer is, that, in such instances, we only behold the arrest or displacement of one law by another ; or, according to Divine appointment. Not this departure from a type, there- fore, but the non-departure from it, would, under the circum- stances, be a sign that the organic laws were abandoned to themselves. And then, also, the theory which assumes the of- fice of relieving the Divine Being from the seeming discredit of a partial failure of his laws in his own presence, and from the supposed indignity of having to perform certain creating and sus- taining acts of an inferior description, only disguises or adjourns the imaginary difficulty. For, by saying that the universe is evolved and upheld by general laws appointed at first, and never afterwards interfered with, the supposed difficulty is left to press against the original appointment. Unless it be supposed that, in originating the law, the Deity was putting a power into opera- tion of which He knew not the effects, all the results actually ULTIMATE FACTS. 301 flowing from it must have been originally contemplated by Him ; so that the hypothesis which presumes to save the dignity of the God of Providence, does it at the expense of the honor of the God of Creation. 9. Crossing the gulf between organic life and sentient exist- ence, we have also inquired into the mystery of sensation. What is the principle of a sense ? How is it that, by the aid of its nervous system, the animal can become acquainted apparently not only with impressions, but with things ; with the forms, and qualities, and motions of objects ? " We know exactly the mechanism of the eye (remarks Liebig), but neither anatomy nor chemistry will ever explain how the rays of light act on con- sciousness, so as to produce vision." Nor will physiology or acoustics ever explain why the vibration of the air, acting on the drum of the ear, should produce the sensation of hearing. And the same is true of every class of sensations. The organ of sense contains nothing to explain the sensation. They are two things essentially distinct. In every attempt at explanation, we have to presuppose a principle, to introduce the idea of some antecedent capable of sensation. 10. Our examination of instinct introduces us to another ulti- mate fact. However the various classes of animal actions may be distributed, there is one class including, for example, the beautiful nest-building of birds, and the mathematical cell-build- ing of bees which is allowed on almost all hands, to be strictly instinctive. Now their organization does not determine their instincts ; for, with the same organs, we see very different, and even opposite, instincts in different species of animals. Neither do their instincts nor propensities determine their organization, for their structure is prospective : the bird has wings while yet in the egg. Instinct, then, as far as the animal structure is con- cerned, is an ultimate fact. The bee itself, while working geometrically, has no knowledge of geometry ; " somewhat like a child, who, by turning the handle of an organ, makes good music without any knowledge of music. The art is not in the child, but in him who made the organ. In like manner, the geometry is not in the bee, but in that great Geometrician who made the bee, and who * maketh all things in number, weight, and measure.'" 11. What is mind? We have seen that organized matter is only the condition or means of its manifestation.* The phe- * Chap. VI., supra. 26 302 MAN. nomena of matter are all learned by outward observation; those of the mind by consciousness alone. The material phe- nomena which observation brings to light are only, at most, instruments and organs, while consciousness reveals a force or cause capable of controlling some of these organs. Material properties and processes can be conceived of only as related to space ; the utter absurdity of conceiving of the mind as sus- taining any such relation is felt as soon as it is attempted. Matter is divisible ; even the brain, the instrument of mind, is made up of parts ; the mind itself is consciously indivisible, one. The brain is constantly wasting and renewing ; the mind is ever identical ; the man is ever conscious that he is the same being. The material organ grows weary, and asks for rest ; the untiring will pities the infirmity while yielding to the demand, and often pictures what it could accomplish with boundless scope for its designs, and an organization incapable of fatigue with which to carry them out. The relation of mind to matter is of a nature still further to illustrate the essential distinction between the two. For we have seen abundant evidence to conclude that the brain, besides being nothing more than the condition of the mind's action, is only the in- adequate instrument of that activity, and not its standard : that while certain functions of the body constantly proceed without the mind being at all conscious of them, the mind also has certain properties and activities quite independent of all cerebral sympathy : and that as matter is independent of any specific organized form, so mind is capable of existing apart from its present material instrument, and is, by the will of God, indestructible. The mind, then, is a distinct entity, and its constitution is an ultimate fact, or, rather, a revelation of many such facts. 12. What is the ground of our belief in the existence of the material universe ? Both the sceptic and the idealist very readily admit the fact, that our consciousness testifies to an ex- ternal world. But how do we know the truth of this testimony ? Why do we believe that what we apprehend as an external ob- ject is not a state or mode of our own mind, illusively presenting itself as a mode of matter ? We believe it on the authority of consciousness. This is our ultimate appeal. We have the same kind of proof of the existence of the external object as we have of the thinking and percipient subject that of conscious- ness. Deny its authority for the object, and it cannot be relied on for the subject. Question the truth of its testimony, and even ULTIMATE FACTS. 303 the fact that it testifies must be doubted. And to doubt this, is to subvert doubt itself. In a word, our inability to test the truth of our consciousness is owing to its ultimate authority. Did it admit of proof, we might then require to test the validity of that which proved it, and so on in infinite regression. To reason on the ultimate reason is felo-de-se, or makes reasoning itself impos- sible ; for, as Aristotle often repeats, the elements of demonstra- tion must be themselves indemonstrable. 13. How is man's existence, or that of the world which he inhabits, to be accounted for ? or what is causation ? That he could not begin to exist without a cause, we regard as a neces- sary truth. That causation includes something more than an- tecedence and consequence, a mere relation of time, we are conscious, by the effort we put forth in merely effecting the movement of our limbs. And then as the very idea of sequence refers us back from effect to cause till we reach the first link in the physical chain, the mind feels with the force of an intellectual necessity, that the pre-existing cause of the whole must have been of a nature corresponding with the effects, and must there- fore include more than mere antecedence. Causality itself, indeed, cannot be detected. It is not a thing to be seen. The things observed do not obtrude it. It is not in them except as an in- visible energy or presence. Gravitation itself is not a cause, but a law. The highest aim of natural philosophy is to ascend from one antecedent to another, until it has reached the last or most general phenomenon. But even if this last were reached, and natural philosophy were complete, we could not lay our finger on an efficient cause, although we had been tacitly pre- supposing it at every step of the inquiry. In muscular action we are conscious of making an effort ; and here, if anywhere, we might expect to be able to explain the connection between the two ; but how our will affects our muscles is a secret hidden from us. Still the fact of causation remains. And the only and ultimate fact upon which the mind reposes respecting the causation of man, and of every phenomenon of nature, is that of the Divine volition.* 14. That man himself is a cause, and his character, conse- quently a self-formation, is, in the same sense, an ultimate fact. We have seen that he is dependent upon God in a two-fold respect ; both as having derived his existence from Him, and as being maintained in existence by His pervading physical * Tappan's Elements of Logic, Part III., b. ii. 8. 304 MAN. agency, or ever-present volition to that effect. This dependence is neither optional nor avoidable. It is not the mere consequence of Divine omnipotence. If man exists, dependence is the in- separable condition of his existence. Even his power to sin, physically considered, is a dependent power. His created con- stitution can never become physically independent of its Creator. This dependence of spirit on spirit, however, does not appear to be so incompatible with the liberty of the will as the fact that man is subject also to the laws of matter. His life, as far as it is material, has its root in mechanical arrangements. But the mechanism of nature, we have seen, is not inherently hostile to spiritual freedom. It is not the product of a power alien to God and man. It is made by the Maker of man, and is to move in subordination to Him. If, indeed, the question were, How is unlimited or unconditioned freedom compatible with the mechanism of material nature ? no reply could be given. To reconcile law with lawlessness is impossible. But such freedom is utterly inconceivable. Law is the correlative of liberty, not its antithesis. The freedom of a finite being such as man, is confined within the bounds of a limited circle. Within this space, and as long as he continues to will in harmony with the true freedom of his constitution, his liberty and his well-being are one. The objective laws which surround his will do but expound, defend, and enlarge his liberty. They influence his will only owing to their " own exceeding lawfulness." If he will, however, he is free to resist law ; but then he surrenders a portion of liberty with each violation. Just as he possesses the power to amputate one of his limbs after another, only he must expect to find that he has abridged that power by every such unnatural act. If man wills to assert his freedom, his power over himself, by selling himself into slavery, he can do so. And if he choose to convince himself of his liberty by resisting law, the first law which he arms against himself, is the law of liberty ; he comes into collision with his own nature at the first step. By resisting the highest class of motives, he excludes from his circle of freedom the whole domain of piety. The violation of the law of the benevolent affections, still further contracts the circle. By disregarding his own well-being, and thus violating the law of self-love, he reduces the circle to a still smaller compass. He surrenders himself to the sensitive gratification of the present moment. He no longer gives law to the objective ; the objective gives law to him. He has approached, as nearly as his consti- tution will permit, to the condition of a machine. And in pro- ULTIMATE FACTS. 305 portion as he has descended to this point, his very reduced range of actions has become more and more calculable and fixed. He is then fallaciously pointed at as a triumphant proof of a fatalistic materialism. And if a number of such herd together in a state of society favorable to sensuality, exposing a wide surface to objective influences, the statistics of crime will be found to be so calculable, and susceptible of classification, as to tempt the ma- terialist to believe that his argument is complete. He has made the mistake of going to the hospital for the statistics of health. Yet such is the pervading error of more than one popular pub- lication on the condition and prospects of man. We have remarked,however, that all law, whether express- ed directly by the Divine Being, or indirectly in the mechanism of nature, is really and truly one with the law of man's freedom. " But is he not even in his holiest and freest condition, influ- enced by motives ?" Doubtless, it is this fact, partly, which dis- tinguishes him from a machine. Motives, however, are not ob- jective existences, or realities. They are subjective influences, deriving their power from passing through the character ; in truth, expressions of character formed in the past, and modify- ing character at the present. " But there has been no moment in his past history, when he has not been influenced by exter- nal circumstances." True ; the amount and the kind of influ- ence on his character, however, was determined ultimately by that character itself. And there never was a moment when he did not feel that he could modify it, if he willed to that ef- fect. Thus, without overlooking the influence of either his ex- ternal circumstances, or his physical organization, the modified result of both presupposes a modifying power, the power of the will. And, if asked, how this is possible, we can only appeal to consciousness that it is a fact. As an ultimate fact, " no man can give its proof to another, yet every man may find it for himself." And, having this fact of consciousness in our pos- session, to reason as if it were non-existent, is for reason to act irrationally. As to the mystery which the subject involves, the human will is only in this, as in other respects, an image of the Divine ; it is the mystery of a caused cause representing the greater mystery of an uncaused cause. But "there is nothing the absolute ground of which is not a mystery. The contrary were indeed a contradiction in terms ; for how can that, which is to explain all things, be susceptible of an expla- nation ? It would be to suppose the same thing first and sec- ond at the same time." 26* 306 MAN. 15. What is the principle of prayer by which man "has power with God ?" In this exercise we see the human will essaying to put itself in communication with the Divine will : and the question arises, how God can answer prayer without in- fringing on his own immutability, or altering the course and constitution of nature ? In submission to this difficulty, some have regarded the advantage of prayer as limited to the salu- tary effect produced by the re-action of the exercise on the mind of the suppliant. But this is only to shift the difficulty. And the man who, perceiving this, philosophically argues against prayer altogether, is only shifting it again. For the real diffi- culty is only one of the many forms of the great mystery of causation ; and if he will explain how his argument is to move my mind (a fact the possibility of which he takes for granted), I may be able to explain how prayer moves the Divine mind a fact the possibility of which I take for granted. The appar- ent difficulty arising from the Divine immutability is owing chiefly, I apprehend, to a misconception. Immutability is con- founded with immobility ; whereas, it must be of a nature to consist with universal activity, with the creation of the first sup- pliant, and with the conservation of the created universe. This activity is not merely in accordance with Divine immutability ; it is its consequence and manifestation. The longer the activ- ity continues, the more apparent will be the unchangeableness of the Divine character. That character is a prediction or an- ticipation of all the wants of the objective universe. Before man was made, it contained a phase for every relation which he might sustain. If God is pleased, therefore, to appoint that man shall come to him as a suppliant, the arrangement discloses an unchangeable part of the Divine nature. For man not to be heard and answered, when he complies with the conditions of acceptable prayer, could only arise from the termination of Divine immutability. As to the constitution of Nature, daily experience shows that its adaptation to our wants, in an indefi- nite variety of ways, is perfectly compatible with the stability of its laws ; that the blessing of rain, for example, in answer to prayer, need, not disturb its regular course any more than the artificial conversion of air into water in the laboratory of the chemist. The great sphere of Divine operation, however, in answer to prayer, is to be regarded as lying in the mind itself. He who has been pleased to invest us with influence over each other's spirits, cannot surely be regarded as having voluntarily shut ULTIMATE FACTS. 307 Himself out from all access to them. And, as with the influ- ence which one human mind exercises over another, so the Di- vine operation is to be regarded as 'taking place in entire har- mony with the laws of our mental and moral freedom. The supreme design, indeed, of all the spiritual aid sought and im- parted in prayer, is to restore and enlarge that freedom. In a word, all Nature, rightly understood, is in prayer. " The eyes of all wait upon Thee." Every earnest supplication which is uttered illustrates, and harmonizes with, all the laws of man's nature. Every such prayer answered, illustrates all the per- fections of the Divine nature. Is it wonderful, then, that the feeling of the necessity of prayer should be absolutely universal ; that man's " heart and flesh should cry out for the living God ?" The great mystery of goodness lies in the appointment or prin- ciple of the efficacy of prayer : the existence of the appointment itself is a fact, an ultimate fact, 16. Whence arises our idea of a moral quality in actions ? "We can trace the diversified relations in which we stand to each other, and to God. We may be able to show that certain lines of virtuous conduct towards the different beings to whom we are related, are more advantageous than any others. And from this perception we may derive a powerful motive to pur- sue such conduct. But quite distinct from this motive of advan- tage, and prior to it, there arises in the mind a feeling of obliga- tion that certain states of mind in relation to them are right, and ought to be manifested. And this feeling, springing up unbid- den, and antecedent to all knowledge of consequences, we can only regard as an ultimate fact of our moral constitution. 17. Our idea of immortality possesses the same ultimate char- acter. Arguments, metaphysical and moral, are adducible in its support. But the belief of it exists prior to the argument, and independently of it. The conception of it seems easy and inevitable. The yearning expectation comes up from the depth and ground of our nature. The bare imagination of its op- posite produces a sense of sudden recoil. Everything within and around us appears to presuppose the fact, and to take it for granted. 18. Moral evil, also, viewed subjectively, must be regarded as an ultimate fact. Made possible by the freedom of the will, it became actual by the determination of the will. No outward influence can account for its origination. The tempter himself is a tempter only, furnishing merely the occasions of evil. Evil has its seat and strength in the will. It is, as we shall hereaf- 308 MAN. ter have occasion -to show, an act of the will, which was meant to subsist in harmony with the will of God, but which aims at self-subsistence in opposition to Him. 19. And thus we find that every part of our constitution, from the elementary atom to the sense of moral obligation, points di- rectly to an ultimate fact. Take whatever branch of inquiry we may, and begin with whatever part of it we will, we soon find ourselves verging on the region of metaphysical research. A single question, on the most familiar subject, may land us in it. We are always moving near the point where, if explana- tion be sought, a principle has to be presupposed. The con- tingent asks for the necessary the conditioned for the uncon- ditioned. Matter and motion, organization and life, nerves and sensation, the subjective and the objective, both of these and their cause, physical dependence and moral freedom, prayer and its power, an action and its obligation, contingent existence and immortality, a conditioned nature and sin each of the two members in these successive steps (and others might be named*) can be shown to be reasonable ; but the nexus which binds them in harmony together, baffles our perception in every instance. Yet all these ultimate facts were involved in the con- stitution of the first human being. Most of them, as far as the earth is concerned, came into existence with him, or were origi- nated m his person. The great mysteries already involved in the conjunction of Freedom and Purpose in the Divine mind, and of Creative mind with created matter in the Divine con- duct, were now made manifest in a being whose constitution combined matter, and spirit, and whose conduct reconciled lib- erty and law ; and who, in this new and lofty sense, was the image of God. Such as thought, in its relation to language ; the power of belief h evidence presupposes but cann nature suggests but does not realize. which evidence presupposes but cannot create ; and the ideal beauty which > but does not realiz NECESSARY TRUTHS. 309 CHAPTER XVI. NECESSARY TRUTHS. 1. FROM the ultimate facts of man's nature and condition, let us ascend to the necessary truths on which they repose, and in which they have their ground ; from the contingent expres- sions of the Divine will, to the Infinite Nature of which that will itself is the expression. Considered as mere phenomena, the existence of all the objects and events in the created uni- verse is entirely contingent on the sovereign will of God. Con- sidered as ultimate facts, they are contingently necessary; necessary on the supposition of the phenomena having been called into existence, but only on that supposition. While these ulti- mate facts themselves presuppose truths, or principles, which are purely and absolutely necessary. 2. We have already remarked on the nature of necessary truth,* as that which is, and must be true, and the opposite of which is metaphysically inconceivable. We say metaphysically inconceivable as distinguished from that educational inconceiva- bleness of a thing which has sometimes pronounced a truth im- possible in one age, and its reverse inconceivable in a succeed- ing age of better information. By the former, we mean that inconceivableness which arises from the constitution of the mind; by the latter, that which is derived from the mere strength of the opposite associations, and the modification of which is always conceivable and possible. 3. " Even those philosophers who profess to derive all our knowledge from experience, and who admit no universal truths of intelligence but such as are generalized from individual truths of fact even these philosophers are forced virtually to acknowledge, at the root of the several acts of observation from which their generalization starts, some law or principle to which they can appeal as guaranteeing the procedure, should the va- lidity of these primordial acts themselves be called in question."! When Mill, for example, inquires, " How can we imagine an end to space or time ?" and endeavors to account for its incon- ceivableness by stating, that as "we never saw any object with- out something beyond it, nor experienced any feeling without * Supra, p. 55. t Sir W. Hamilton's Piss, on Reid, p. 743. 810 MAN. something following it ; therefore, when we attempt to conceive the last point of space, we have the idea irresistibly raised of other points beyond it ; and when we try to imagine the last in- stant of time, we cannot help conceiving another instant after it,"* he is, in effect, surrendering the all-sufficiency of experience. The " irresistible idea," and the conception which we " cannot help," are laws of intellect. Far as experience may carry us, these laws go "beyond," and transcend it. Experience only suggests the existence of space by revealing the existence of the objects contained in it ; but from the instant the idea of space is awakened, the intellect cannot think it non-existent. The ob- jects contained in it we can, in thought, annihilate ; but who can think of space except as existent ? We feel that it exists independently of the mode in which we conceive of it ; inde- pendently even of there having been any created minds to con- ceive of it at all ; that it exists necessarily. 4. It may be proper to repeat here, that every necessary- truth is characterized by universality ; which is only saying that a truth which could be shown to be not necessary for one mind, would, by that very fact, be proved to be not necessary for any mind. As necessary, also, a truth is primary or original ; nei- ther dependent on, nor derived from, any anterior truth. And, therefore, inexplicable ; for if we could explain why or how it is, that explanation itself would be the prior and primary truth. While its certainty is such, that the certainty of every subordi- nate truth of the same class depends on it. 5. But what are the metaphysical principles which possess these characteristics of necessary truth ? Without proposing to give a full enumeration of them, we have already specified four ; and have stated the ground of our selection namely, that they are such as are presupposed by the very possibility of a Divine manifestation such as must have been present to the mind of the Creator as the absolute conditions of a creation. All body must be in space : then the creation of the universe presupposes the space in which it exists ; and although no eye had ever opened in it, no atom ever floated through it, the non-existence of space is inconceivable. Every succession must be in time ; then, for the same reason, duration must have existed prior to, and independently of, the creation, for it is an indispensable condition of its existence. Everything which begins to exist must have an efficient cause : the contrary is inconceivable. * System of Logic, vol. i. p. 317. NECESSARY TRUTHS. 311 Even Hume did not deny that the notion of Cause was in- dispensable in relation to all natural knowledge. The bare conception of a creation presupposes the power adequate to cause it ; and a power, therefore, which must have existed even apart from the actual causation of the material universe. Every substance implies attributes or properties, and every property implies a substance. The one cannot be thought of without implying the other. The properties of the objective universe imply a subjective, of which they are the manifestation. Matter presupposes spirit. And thus we ascend from that causative Will of which creation is the effect, to that Divine Nature of which the properties or characteristics of creation are the revelation. 6. This leads us to speak of other truths as necessary^ truths which, as presupposed by the very possibility of a Divine manifestation, are independent of it. Every contingent de- termination implies moral freedom, and freedom implies the power of contingent determination. The Divine determination to create man, presupposes the power of abstaining from such a purpose ; otherwise the determination would result from a necessity or fate, the very opposite of freedom ; or, rather there could be no room for any determination on the subject. Then, the freedom which this purpose implies would have existed, and could not but exist, even if man at once its proof and its image had never been called into being. How this freedom is compatible with that moral necessity or certainty which the Divine Perfection is under, of choosing always that which is best, is not the point before us. Both the freedom and the cer- tainty are primary and necessary truths each in its own pecu- liar sphere ; and, if primary, they cannot admit of demonstra- tion, since there can be nothing by which to demonstrate them. The only point of their coincidence is in that Personal perfec- tion which makes them both equally necessary. 7. The distinction between right and wrong is another im- mutable truth. Men may differ slightly respecting the appli- cation of the terms, but the antithesis between the ideas is a universal conception. They may neglect to apply it to certain classes of actions and affections ; but the oracle from on high no sooner commands it than the voice within repeats the command. Its reality is recognized in the structure of all languages. So far from being created by law, it is itself a lawgiver. Laws presuppose it, and are good only as they utter its mandates. Its tlirone is higher and older than Sinai itself, to which it has to 312 MAN. descend when it speaks to men. It cannot be confounded with interest and utility. These may excite desire, but rectitude im- poses a sense of obligation. Its smiles and frowns are too quick for a selfish calculation, and the sacrifices which it commands are made for its own sake, apart from all consideration of Pon- sequences. Its emotions are specific; disdaining every other occasion as inferior, they reserve themselves for the presence of those qualities alone which are to form the subject of the final investigation. It has an origin logically anterior even to the will of the ever-blessed God. That is to say, it is not ex- cellent because He wills it, but He wills it because it is excel- lent ; so excellent as to constitute his Nature. Every volition of the Divine mind, therefore, presupposes it, and is its expres- sion. " The righteous Lord loveth righteousness." When it speaks or wills, it wills with the authority of His infinite nature. It is independent of all created existence. Like the mathemat- ical truths of which the material universe is His chosen diagram, but which would have been truths had no created forms or mo- tions ever existed to exemplify them, the distinction between truth and falsehood, good and evil, is perfectly irrespective of human conscience, or created apprehension. It is " from eter- nity to eternity." As well might we conceive of a past period when the radii of a circle were not necessarily equal, or of some future time when a circle shall have two centres, as of a period when right and wrong shall be converted or commuted. Rec- titude is as immutable as the infinite excellence which enshrines it ; and " He cannot deny himself." 8. To these necessary beliefs we may add the idea of per- fection. An archetype of order, harmony, fitness, and beauty, inhabits the mind, which nothing external has ever realized. The comparison of one degree of excellence with another may have at first awakened the idea, but could not have created it ; for how can the relative give birth to the absolute, the effect transcend its cause ? Actual experience gives us nothing but the variable, the limited, the incomplete. Yet not only does every new grace unveil its face to us as that of a w r ell-remem- bered friend, it assures us of an excellence of infinite perfec- tion, and of which all created beauty is only an emanation. No conception of excellence short of this standard is, or can be, final. Passing beyond all the realities of finite being, the mind beholds in the Infinite himself the only greatness and beauty which can satisfy its conceptions, an object which "borrows splendor from all that is fair, subordinates to itself all that is NECESSARY TRUTHS. 313 great, and sits enthroned on the riches of the universe." But the existence of that perfection depends not on the ability of any created intelligence to conceive of it. From eternity it must have been the ever-present subject of the Divine ^contem- platjpn, because the ever-conscious character of the Divine nature. 9. The idea of law is as necessary for the reason as the idea of cause ; so that, if every phenomenon must have a cause, it is a truth equally necessary that it must have a law. Holding its eternal seat in the mind of God, it made all the sequences and uniformities of the objective universe possible, when as yet the first of them had to be created. The same is true of the idea of Design, of Personality, of Immortality, and of some others. These truths are all primitive, necessary, universal. The mind cannot act without them. They belong to its struc- ture. Whatever external influence may be necessary in order to awaken them, they have an a priori existence of their own, and claim immediate kindred with the mind of the Creator. 10. Here, then, we find ourselves brought into the awful presence of primordial truth. We can conceive of a period in past duration when the Infinite Being dwelt alone in his own immensity. But, even then, a creation was possible ; and here are the deep foundations, the very grounds on which that pos- sibility rested. Even then a creation was purposed ; and here are the first truths, the primary ideas, which that purpose pre- supposed ; here, dimly looking forth from the depths of eternity, are solemn and profound aspects of the incomprehensible na- ture of which the creating will is to be the utterance, and of which created objects are to be the manifestation ? But what must be the constitution of the creature who shall be capable of receiving the manifestation ? For some of these awful aspects and eternal truths are not susceptible of material forms ; ideas of obligation cannot be set forth by color or diagram. Even in relation to such ideas as admit of material representation, the actual must ever fall infinitely below the possible; the worlds which will be are outnumbered by the archetypes ever present to the mind of God of works which might be. And now that the silence of eternity has been broken, and creation has advanced through the successive stages of matter, and life, and sensation, the mind capable of apprehending these neces- sary and eternal truths is still wanting. They are not, cannot be, in these created objects, any more than the face is in the mirror which reflects it. They do not admit even of being 27 314 MAN. observed in them. As they were presupposed by the Eternal mind, so must they be by the mind of the being who shall infer the character of the Creator from his works. Such a creature appears in the person of man. Endowed with a designing mind, h*e recognizes marks of design in every department of creation. Having the foundations of law, and the principles of science, inlaid in his constitution, he finds himself in a world perpetually appealing to those principles, and referring him to these laws. Creation is ever remanding him to its Maker, and thus reminding him that he is connatural with the Divine. The observation of phenomena soon brings him to a fact which, as far as nature is concerned, is ultimate ; if he would advance beyond, he finds himself in the presence of the Supernatural. Penetrating beyond the contingent and the sensible, he lifts the veil to find himself standing face to face with truths which were ever present to the Eternal mind as the necessary conditions of its objective manifestation. What close and ineffable com- munion with the Deity is this ; not with His will merely, but even with His eternal nature ! CHAPTER XVH. ANALOGY. 1. IN the evolution of a Divine system it may be expected that every part will be in harmony and analogy with every other part. For if the whole is to be, in some respect, an analogue of the Divine Being, every separate portion of it must be sim- ilarly related to every other part, otherwise the whole will not resemble Him. Accordingly, we find that the entire constitu- tion of man is arranged on a plan which harmonizes all its parts into one whole, and that whole with the universe. The full illustration of this fact would require an analysis of all the preceding chapters. We shall, however, only glance at two or three of the more general indications of such a plan in the human being, point out certain analogies between the human dispensation and those which preceded it, and the rules and means of classification which the subject suggests and provides. 2. Viewing man apart from the universe which surrounds ANALOGY. 315 him, he exhibits in his own person an all-related system of means and forces. Even the lowest and minutest part of this system has a constitution of its own. A single hair is an organi- zation, a world. But all the infinitely diversified parts of the system, physiological, mental, and moral, are elaborated into a single constitution. These characteristic parts are not developed capriciously and without order, but according to a law which regulates their succession. Supposing them to be all present, and in their appointed order, we have seen that it is not optional or immaterial to man which part prevails and which submits. Their rank and office are fixed. Sensation is the servant of thought ; thought subserves emotion ; emotion can, through the medium of thought, be diverted or be held in abeyance by the will, while conscience is, in the sense previously stated, the supreme authority for the will. As a being who is capable not only of understanding the great process into which he has come, but of actually subserving it, the rank and office of his motives are commanded. His self-love is designed to regulate his appetites, his affections to control his self-love, and his regard for the will and character of God to direct the whole. And who does not perceive that this order is according to an ascending scale of importance ? that, while the appetites ask but a small range of objects, self-love contemplates the good of the entire being, and for all the future ; the affections embrace the similar well-being of others ; and a sense of duty, by leading him into the presence, and placing him under the government of God, surrounds and unites him with the origin and end of all things. No derangement of this all-compacted constitution can take place with impunity. The higher parts are not independent of the lower ; the least is essential to the integrity and the well-working of the entire man. No property, function, or power, is isolated. " All the parts are mutually ends and means." Nor, viewed in relation to time, is the iden- tity of his nature ever lost, or the progress of his character ever discontinued. Memory, association, and habit, present the record of his history. The past, in its effects, is ever present with him. His character, though always undergoing modification, is always whole. 3. Regarding man in his objective relations, we find all the pre- existing laws, physical, organic, and animal, brought forwards, and assumed in the corresponding parts of his constitution. His structure and physiology point to a type, and are suggestive of the great scheme of organization in which he finds his appro- 316 3IA.N. priate place. Many things which were only begun in the pre- ceding stages of creation are resumed, more fully developed, and completed, in him ; and some things which, before, were shadowy and vague, are interpreted, and even become the in- terpreters of other things. Man is to understand creation, and, by this means, to know his Creator. Accordingly, he is placed in sensible communi- cation with the external world ; or, is made susceptible of a sensible change, or mental impression, answering to each of all the phenomena of external nature. These phenomena are all related by certain general laws, or in a uniform manner ; and he is capable of recognizing these uniformities, confidently calculates on them, and generalizes them all into groups and classes according as they more or less resemble each other. These phenomena, besides being related to each other, are related also to that which contains them, and which accounts for their existence ; and man is made susceptible of having the ideas which these relations presuppose, awakened in his mind ideas which conduct him directly to the infinite and eternal Being for whose manifestation the creation exists. But the phenomena actually created do not exhaust the Divine resources, for God is infinite ; and man is able to imagine, not only the archetypes of existing realities, but of objects unknown to the actual universe. In other words, he can ascend from the visible and contingent to those laws and facts which, to nature, are ultimate, and from these again to the necessary truths which these contingent objects and ultimate facts presuppose, as well as imagine a vast range of unrealized conceptions which these necessary truths make possible. Thus constituted, it might be expected that he would be capable of learning more from his intelligent fellow man than from any other object of external nature ; and, accordingly, he is endowed with the power of interchanging thoughts, of bearing credible testimony to the truth of his statements, and of believing testimony so rendered. Language, the great medium of his mental communications, is an ever-growing illustration of the analogy existing between the operations of the world within and all that exists around it. Indefinitely varied as are the relations which he sustains to external objects, and the points from which he views them, four or five classes of verbs at most, employed in four or five moods, are made to supply all his purposes, owing to the resemblance of which he is conscious between his different states of mind. ' Innumerable as are the kinds of relations existing between ANALOGY. 317 external things, five or six cases of nouns (speaking generally) express them all for him, for he traces so many classes of simili- tude among them. While every word, expressing as it does at first the relation of some one thing, comes to denote the analo- gous relations of a number of other things ; and even his own faculties and mental phenomena derive their names mostly from the sensible properties of matter. Whatever the subject which may occupy his thoughts, he finds that, as a poet, a world of im- pressive images lies around him ; as a reasoner, comparisons surround him ; as a scientific theorist, wherever he looks pro- lific suggestions meet his eye, offering to lead him from the known to the unknown ; as a religious being, all the finite and the visible refer him to the Infinite invisible. Language, which, by its analogical character, is the living record of this fact, is thus ever memorializing him that his own mind is a system capable of tracing its relations to the great system to which it belongs ; and that it enjoys this high prerogative in virtue of its being the analogue and image of Him who is the Creator of both. 4. But if man is constituted to know, it is in order that he may appreciate that which he knows according to its rank and office in the great scheme. Everything around him is meant to move ; to move him ; to move him towards God. But every- thing is meant to affect him differently. As objects occupy different ranks in the scale of creation, and display different aspects of the Divine character, man is endowed with the susceptibility of being moved by them accordingly. He finds himself in a temple filled with " figures of the true." Here, the most lovely objects are only the emblems, to him, of a beauty and an excellence which no material form can embody. Emo- tions of awe and majesty are awakened in his mind by objects in proportion as they seem to bring him near to the presence of Divine Greatness. The purest elements and objects are only symbols of the Divine Holiness ; and, like the cherubim figured on the temple-vail, acquire a sanctity, and inspire reverence, by their proximity to " the holiest of all." The tree in the midst of the garden was the symbol and instrument of moral govern- ment ; other trees might speak to unfallen man of Goodness, but that proclaimed Divine Equity; and every step which brought him nearer to that central object seemed to bring him on more hallowed ground. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart ; supreme excellence challenges supreme love. In virtue of this original appointment, all inferior excellence 27* 318 MAN. takes a subordinate position, and measures its claim to our re- gard by the degree of its resemblance to the Divine Archetype. 5. Man's power of choosing, according to his appreciation of objects, and of corresponding voluntary action, discloses other objective relations. He is a creature of animal appetites ; and external nature presents them with appropriate objects. He is capable of self-love it is essential to his continued existence that he should be and he, the subject of this regard, can, indirectly, become his own object. From the present, he can view himself objectively in the future, and can act from a regard to that future self. " Prudence is an active principle, and im- plies a sacrifice of self, though only to the same self projected as it were to a distance." He is susceptible of affections ; and the external world presents him with objects calculated to keep them in perpetual play. He is capable of a sense of duty ; and to this principle of action, the will of God, as the interpreter and enforcer of unalterable right, authoritatively appeals. Thus every part of his constitution finds its counterpart in the objec- tive universe ; from his appetites which stoop to gather up their objects from the dust, to his sense of duty which bears him away in homage to the throne of the Invisible. But how is the will of God, in the constitution of nature, ascertainable by man ? We have found that it is expressed in the operation of general laws, that, in relation to these laws, he finds himself right or wrong- in his every movement ; and that having learned from experi- ence what these laws are, he has learned the will of God respecting his conduct towards them ; and, then, as a being made capable of voluntarily obeying that will, he is held respon- sible for pursuing that conduct, and is guilty or not guilty accordingly. And thus even when allowably gratifying appe- tite, or when rightly influenced by self-love, or by the affections, the fact that he is acting according to the will of God, is still to be the controlling and supreme consideration. Of course, if the Divine will be vocally and directly addressed to him, as in the instance of the primal prohibition, he can apprehend and yield to it at once. But even as far as he is referred for his know- ledge of that will to the open volume of nature, so legibly is it written for the eye of conscience, that he may read that runs. There is, therefore, no part of his nature, and no moment of his existence, which is not met by the claims of duty. And the only condition on which he can be prepared to discharge the duty of any given moment is, that of his having fulfilled the obligation peculiar to every previous moment of his being. ANALOGY. 319 6. Further, as man'8 powers of knowing, appreciating, and voluntarily acting in, the external world, bring him under obli- gation respecting the course and character of his action, we have found that he enjoys an amount of good, or well-being, propor- tioned to the discharge of his obligations. If the phenomena, mental and moral, which man exhibits, are not unconnected and capricious, but arranged in an orderly constitution, it follows that that constitution has a tendency and an end ; that is, that its well-being is not ctely more apparent when it acts according to a certain plan, than when it is acting according to any other, but that its well-being entirely depends on its so acting. That end we believe to be the end for which everything else exists, and for which God himself wills and acts the manifestation of the Divine excellence. Accordingly, as a part of the mani- festation, man enjoys the advantage and pleasure of being in harmony with his relations to the great plan, even though acting in ignorance of them. As that distinguished part to whom the manifestation is made, his advantage is proportioned to the rank of the motive from which he acts. If he act rightly from any motive, " verily, he has his reward." But he is capable of doing everything from the highest motive, from a regard to the same end for which God is conducting the great process of Divine manifestation ; and, in proportion as he thus acts, he gains every inferior end, and shares with the Divine Being the happiness of realizing the highest end. Perhaps there is nothing which more convincingly shows that the nature of man is arranged on a plan, and that that plan harmonizes with the great objective plan which includes everything, than the various grounds assigned by different writers as the basis of moral obligation. If one affirms, for instance, that morality is founded on the emotions, it indicates the fact that the whole of our emotional nature is har- monized with all the requirements of morality. If another con- tends that it is obligatory because it is agreeable to reason and the nature of things, this only shows that our intellectual nature is made to harmonize with it as well as our emotional. If the the selfist contends that the good of self is the only principle of virtue, this, at least, indicates that our sensitive nature has been made coincident with the laws of morality. If the utilitarian contends that only the useful is virtuous, this implies that we are under the economy of a Being who has made our duty and our welfare to coincide. Or, if it be affirmed that the will of God is the ultimate foundation of right, this obviously implies that 320 MAN. obedience and happiness are relative terms.* We have seen, indeed, that the true basis of morality is distinct from the exer- cise of mere will ; that it has ari independent existence anterior to law, and of which law is only the proclamation ; that it had an eternal pre-existence in the character of the Godhead. But all these differing views conspire to show, at least, how essen- tially the laws of morality are inwrought into man's nature, into every part of it ; how entirely " the man in the breast," answers to the objective economy on high ; and how truly the human character is formed on the model of the Divine, and in order to its manifestation. God and man are, in this sense, relative terms. 7. Hypothetically speaking, man might have been constituted precisely as he now is, before the world for which he is made was called into existence. And, then, a being, adequately en- dowed might have inferred, had man's slumbering faculties and susceptibilites been disclosed to him, the constitution of the world he was destined to inhabit. Just as, perhaps, angelic be- ings, on the other hand, did vaguely infer, from an inspection of that world, the constitution of the being for whom it was designed. Not only, therefore, is every part of man's nature re- lated to, and in analogy with, every other part, but the whole is in correspondence with the objective universe. He stands in the centre of the whole, with every law and influence meeting in him, every object and event leaving an impression on him. A celestial globe, on which every constellation and star has its place, and which is rectified for taking astronomical observa- tions, is but an imperfect image of man's correspondence with the objective universe. He lives as within an illuminated globe his own mind the flame which illuminates it, the light by which he reads it. Every object and event which he wit- nesses, and every law which he traces, writes the fact of its ex- istence on his mind. So that if a supernatural being, as we just now remarked, could have synthetically conjectured what kind of a w r orld the earth w r ould be from looking at his powers and susceptibilities, just as well could such a being now infer, analy- tically, what kind of an economy, physical, intellectual, and spiritual, he has inhabited, by examining the prints and traces which it leaves upon the mind. 8. We have now to glance at certain analogies between the * Dr. Chalmers's Bridgewatcr Treatise, v. ii., p. 93 ; Warbnrton's Di- vine Legation, B. I., iv. v. ANALOGY. 321 commencement of the human dispensation and those which pre- ceded it. The creation of man interrupted the course of nature neither more nor less than it had been interrupted by prior creations. If there be one conclusion in philosophy more cer- tain than another, it is that the material universe must have had a beginning. Equally evident is it, not only to reason but to sense, that since the period of that primary miracle when first the possible became actual, and law became objective a succession of changes and additions have taken place, each of a kind entirely unknown to all that had gone before. Great cos- mical changes have occurred. Stars have appeared and disap- peared.* On the globe which we inhabit, geology shows that changes such as man's limited experience has never witnessed, have occurred, times without number. To say nothing of the eventful moment Avhen the great mystery of Life first appeared on the earth, and of the equally-marked occasion when a sense of animal enjoyment was first added to life, whole races of ani- mals have, since then, appeared arid disappeared, and have been replaced by others in turn. Four times, at least, did these changes take place in the course of the tertiary era ; and, to an extent which leaves hardly a species of the first period extant among the species now living* Now the present laws of nature, as known to man, will not account for the origination of these species. These laws announce themselves only as regulating the succession of species already originated the production of similar beings from their parent stock. Something, there- fore, must have taken place at the first appearance of these be- ings to which the laws of nature, as we see them in operation, are not adequate. The new consequent implies a new antece- dent. The new effect to which nature is inadequate, implies a cause which is swper-natural. The inference is, that every such effect is directly originated by the same Cause as that to which nature itself owes its origin. And this is, substantially, the Biblical statement respecting the origin of man. He takes his place on the earth as one in a progressive series of creations. An intelligent being of another order the Cuvier of a differ- ent world if permitted to examine the animal remains in our earth's crust, could only infer that, at widely-separated periods, new classes of organized beings had been created, and that among the newest of such creations was one answering to the description of man. * Herschel's Astronomy, p. 383; Proc. K. Ast. Soc., No. iii., Jan. 1840. 322 MAN. 9. In prior creations, respect had been had to the physical fitness of the earth's condition to the peculiar constitution of the new-made beings. If, indeed, the theory of creation or devel- opment by natural law be adopted, it would follow that as soon as ever certain natural conditions were present, certain crea- tures would start into life by inevitable necessity. But condi- tions are not causes ; nor does the evidence adduced in support of the theory, prove anything more than the ease with which uniform conjunction may be mistaken for necessary connection. The uniform conjunction of which we speak is, not that the animal invariably follows the physical condition, but that the existence of certain forms of animal life uniformly presuppose certain adapted states of the element they inhabit. Though water did not create fish, the existence of marine tribes pre- supposes, not the sea merely, but the existence of a marine tem- perature and condition suited to their sustenance. Similarly, the period of man's creation was related to the physical condi- tion of the earth. The probability is, indeed, that, as far as these conditions are concerned, he might have been created earlier or later, had the Creating will so determined ; that is, that during, at least, the latter part of the tertiary period, the state of the earth was not unfitted for his existence. There was, however, a prior period when, with his present constitu- tion, existence would have been impossible. And not until that condition of the earth had passed away, was man brought into being. The Mosaic account of the Adamic creation is, in one view, an exposition of the fitness of the earth for man's habitation. 10. But (it may be asked) is it not contrary to all analogy, and enough to shake our confidence in the uniformity of Na- ture, that, after the course of things had proceeded regularly for an indefinite series of ages, a being so unique as man should at length appear on the earth ? Doubtless, we reply, his crea- tion demonstrates how dangerous it is for a being who has only the experience of a thousand ages, to indulge in confident spec- ulations respecting what contingencies will take place in the empire of an infinite and eternal Being. An intelligent crea- ture who had observed the order of events during all those ages, and who had presumed dogmatically to predict the same order for all the future, would have felt Divinely rebuked by this un- expected innovation on his views, and might have derived from it the salutary lesson that his limited knowledge was hardly a fitting standard with which to measure beforehand the contents ANALOGY. 623 of an unlimited scheme.* But a being who had either known the earth prior to the appearance of vegetable life and animal enjoyment, or who ascribed these events to Divine interposition, could not have regarded man's creation as an event incompati- ble with his views of the permanency of the laws of Nature. Those prior events would have prepared him for it. By the law of analogy, he would have looked out for the coming of a wonder transcending all the past. His views being taken, not from a bounded interval of strict uniformity, however long its duration, but from a height commanding a survey of the suc- cessive changes which the earth had already witnessed, would have led him to anticipate another change, not as an exception to the true economy of the universe, but as proper to it. True, the new-made race were to be armed with unusual powers ; but when he saw that the great distinction of human nature lay, not in its physical, but in its intellectual and moral endowments ; that these would enable it, not to subvert a single pre-existing law, but only to comprehend and employ creation, animate and inanimate, his confidence in the conditional stability of Nature would be confirmed rather than impaired. Accordingly, this very stability was one of the first truths which man himself re- cognized, and on which he reposed. His movements assumed every previous law of Nature, and confirmed it. He ascended his throne to find that his empire admitted of no re-construction or change, that its constitution was fixed, and that if he would reign, it could only be in harmony with its laws, of which his own nature might be regarded as the statute-book. 11. The commencement of moral government upon earth, then of the government by motives of a free being conscious* ly accountable for his actions was no violation of the great scheme of Nature. To say that nothing identical with it had pre-existed on earth, is only to object that the same thing can- not be first and second at the same time, or that a thing is con- trary to experience till it has been experienced. If this were an objection, it would lie equally against organic life and animal en- joyment, for these also had to begin. And as these repealed no prior laws, but were superinduced upon, and employed them, so moral government is only a step further in advance of a yet un- folding plan. Accordingly, in the person of every infant human being, these three stages the organic, the sentient, and the moral may be seen to evolve in succession, yet the third, so * Lyell's Geology, ch. ix. 324 MAN. far from being regarded as an innovation, is looked for as es- sential to the completion of the constitution which includes the other two. 12. For the same reason, the mere fact that man was placed in a state of probation, which implies the presence of possible incitements to evil, as well as of inducements to good, was no infraction of the ancient scheme into which he came. Rather, as that plan was progressive, and exhibited already distinct and successive stages, it was in analogy with it. Allowing, then, that moral government and probation, regarded as mere addi- tions to a progressive scheme, cannot be objected to without in- volving the preceding stages of creation in the same objection, let us see whether the great truths which they include are not also in analogy with creation. 13. The probationary form of moral government under which primeval man was placed, implied the perpetuity of his existence. " There is in every case a probability that all things will con- tinue as we experience they are, in all respects, except those in which we have some reason to think they will be altered."* Now, all Nature is vocal with this truth, for it is only another mode of stating the uniformity of its laws. On the faith of this persevering constancy, the first man tilled the ground. While philosophy assumes it as axiomatically true of motion, that a body at rest will continue at rest, or if in motion, will continue in motion. The punishment with which man was threatened - affected only the form or mode of his continued existence, not its reality. The sentence which remanded his body to the dust, implies that all the rest of his nature would survive. The fact that a part existed before death, and was untouched by death, afforded a presumption that it would continue to live after that event. Its changed condition has its analogies in Nature. For it is a general law, that creatures should be found " in one pe- riod of their being greatly different from those appointed them in another period of it." Thus, man's first sleep suspended for awhile his existence, more, possibly, than it was in the power of death to do, and yet he lived on, and awoke to a new day. The insect, once crawling in the dust, might be seen emerging from its grave and its shroud, winged to soar at pleasure into a new element. And the embryo in the womb, after passing through a succession of singular transitions, came forth, at length, to an independent existence, in what was, to it, the fu- * Butler, Part I., c, i. ANALOGY. 325 ture state of this world. Now, here were facts more ancient than human nature : not, indeed, indicating the mode of man's perpetuated existence not even proving the certainty of it but indicating its possibility, and snowing that if it should be proved on its own independent evidence, creation abounds with striking coincidences with it. 14. Man's probationary state implied that his well-being de- pended, in some measure, at least, on his present conduct; and that, in relation to that conduct, he was endowed with a self- regulating power. The first part of this proposition is as true of the animal kingdom as it is of the human dispensation ; so that man's introduction was, in this respect, productive of no novelty. The second part of the proposition, however that man is, in some degree, a self-controlling force points to that part of his constitution which places him at the farthest remove from Nature. Of the fact itself there is no question, for con- sciousness is ever attesting it. And our own constitution, as subjects of God's natural government, teems with analogies to it v Youth prepares for manhood, and manhood for old age. We propose ends, and devise means for attaining them. To-day is a prophecy of to-morrow. Life is a calculation.* But the point of view which we occupy does not allow us to avail our- selves of this store of coincidences. For they all alike imply that self-regulating power which is the very property we have to illustrate as being in harmony with Nature. Now that man's possession of a causative will did not con- stitute him an alien in creation, or indicate a departure from its plan, appears from this, that he can move only in a line with its laws. Every infraction of them is a self-infliction. To violate them demonstrates, not their weakness, but his own ; while, to develop them, is self-development, Further, Nature, if interrogated, will be found to have uttered her " dark sayings " respecting the antecedent possibility of such a power. The balancing of two opposing forces the centripetal and the cen- trifugal so as to produce a planetary orbit nearly circular, is suggestive, at least, of the possibility of harmonizing depend- ence with freedom. Organic life is an arrangement of means and ends. The plant has a constitution. Though dependent on its parent seed for existence, its after-life is independent of it. Though dependent on the earth for the maintenance of that after-life, its specific individuality is independent. In the * Butler, Part I., cc. ii. iii. iv. v. 326 MAN. instinctive movements, and constrained volitions, of animal life, this individuality reaches a still higher point of development. If, however, it be objected that this self-subsistent individuality of the plant and the animal is only relative ; that even in the animal there is no self-consciousness, no freedom ; that the Will, which gives it law, and which necessitates its obedience, is not its own, but lies without it, we reply that, in that case, we may well desist from looking for analogies to the human will, for we have found its archetype. In seeking for a copy, we have dis- covered the Original. And if the unity of creation, before man came, was not merely compatible with the pervading activity of the great originating Will, but really and truly dependent on it, the introduction by that will of its own image, acting freely in harmony with it, could not be regarded as destructive of that unity. Indeed, in the human constitution itself we behold the noblest type and compendium of that unity a free spir- itual power co-existing with a bodily nature, material, organic, and instinctive. 15. Man's probationary state implied the possibility of failure. And the world into which he came contained innumerable anal- ogies of things open to a similar possibility, and not fulfilling the apparent design of their being. Thus, there are few organ- ized beings placed in such correlation with every element and substance around them, as to be absolutely secured from dis- turbance and destruction. Hence, the multitudes of seeds which perish annually without being sown, and of embryotic animals, which never see the light ; and of both plants and sen- tient beings, which are cut off before they reach maturity. It avails nothing to say that the kind of failure in the two cases is very different ; for we are not seeking identical, but analogous instances. Neither is it pertinent to object that all the disturb- ances of nature are the result of law ; that the storm and the volcano are only the solemn bass of a universal harmony the destructive earthquake, avalanche, and flood, only the throes of forces giving birth to useful changes, and working out bene- ficial designs. So, also, moral changes, though not necessitated, may be benignly employed according to a plan, and for the lof- tiest purposes. We are not now speaking, however, of the ultimate ends, or possible designs, of the Infinite Mind, but of the possibilities involved in the constitution and condition of the creature. And as the world into which man came, we repeat, contained no life that was invulnerable, no race that was secure of its own individual ends ; as he stood, even in Paradise, on ANALOGY. 327 the grave of perished germs, and destroyed races, and as all na- ture sympathizes not less with his sorrows than with his joys, the implied fact of his own possibility of failure found ample analogical illustration. 16. That God should disclose his will to probationary man in a direct manner, is not an event so antecedently improbable as to disturb or destroy the unity of the system into which man came. Unless the Divine Energy be supposed to have ex- hausted itself in the creation of man, the Power which pro- duced such a result cannot be regarded as incapable of perform- ing other miraculous acts. Unless it be supposed that man was created without any design, that design may require that other miracles should subsequently be wrought in harmony with that primary miracle, and tending to the same result. This would certainly appear to be the part of Wisdom. And, unless it could be shown that no beneficent provision whatever was origi- nally made for human happiness, the existence of such provi- sion would seem to warrant the conclusion, that if it would be more for the well-being of man subsequently to enlarge that provision than not to do so, it would be worthy of Goodness so to enlarge it. If it be objected that the direct communication of the Divine will was miraculous, we reply that, in the same sense, every other provision for man's welfare had been, at the time of its origination, miraculous also ; that is, it had been un- known to the previous course of nature. So that, as to its miraculous character, the first revelation was in strict analogy with every prior arrangement for man's well-being. The truth is, however, as Butler well remarks, that "there is no such presumption against a revelation at the beginning of the world, as is supposed to be implied in the word miraculous. For a miracle, in its very notion, is relative to a course of nature, and implies somewhat different from it. Now, either there was no course of nature at the time which we are speaking of, or, if there were, we are not acquainted what the course of nature is upon the first peopling of worlds. And therefore, the question whether mankind had a revelation made to them at that time is to be considered, not as a question concerning a miracle, but as a common question of fact." * Moreover, the tendency of the revelation was in perfect analogy with the design of the entire system of animal instincts. The office of these is to place and maintain the different parts and powers of the animal * Analogy, Part II., c. ii. 328 MAN. in harmonious relation with all their appropriate external ob- jects ; and the tendency of the first command was to apprise man's will that its only proper object was the Divine Will, and to preserve its happy subordination. The truth which they both taught was essentially the same that the will of God is supreme. 17. Even the difficulties involved in man's moral probation are not without their analogies in nature. The very fact that he encounters mystery at almost every step in the domain of nature, prepares him to expect mystery in the department of moral government also. However welcome to him, therefore, the assurance might be that this government was of a kind to involve no mystery whatever, he could not receive such an assurance without strong suspicion. It would be out of analogy with nature. Further, the difficulties in the two departments are very sim- ilar in kind. In both, we find effects resulting from means ap- parently inadequate. Consequences unspeakably momentous to the first man are made to depend on his obedience to a sim- ple law ; and who would have supposed, a priori, that an insig- nificant coral insect would be the means of building up large- islands from the bottom of the ocean, which may not unlikely be hereafter united into one vast continent, affecting the oceanic and climatic influences of half the globe, and modifying the character of nations ? In both, ends the most desirable are brought about by means in themselves undesirable : for if it would have appeared antecedently objectionable that the trial and failure of man's virtue should be made the occasion of sub- sequently advancing his well-being, it seems also antecedently undesirable that a succession of natural convulsions should be employed to ameliorate the earth's surface for man's arrival ; that deadly poisons should be inserted among the treasures of nature, and yet they are convertible into powerful antidotes ; that the death of the vegetable should be the means of life to the animal ; and that the inferior animal should form the neces- sary support of the superior animal. Or, if it be said that mystery was not to have been expected in the department of moral government, we reply, that such a notion may only show our incompetency to form antecedent expectations respecting it ; for that, in the same way, no one could have anticipated the planetary perturbations, and yet they are found to correct themselves ; or that mathematics, the sci- ence of demonstration, would teem with mysteries and contra- ANALOGY. 329 dictions;* that the arguments for the infinite divisibility of matter, and for its not being infinitely divisible, would be both unanswerable taken apart, and yet would answer one another ; or that if we are to see objects erect they would be inverted on the retina ; or that if man is to be superior to the brute, his intellect should yet be, in some respects, inferior to instinct ; or that a capacity for pleasure should be in the same degree a ca- pacity for pain.f Or, if it be objected that the difficulties in the moral department exceed those of a'ny prior stage of creation, we reply, that the law of analogy requires it ; for the sentient creation presents greater mysteries than the vegetable, and the vegetable than the inorganic. Each new stage presupposes all the difficulties which preceded it, and adds others peculiar to itself. Besides, that moral truths " should exhibit greater eccentricity from the orbit which reason would mark out for them, and that they should more peremptorily disclaim to be measured by the rules of arbitrary hypothesis, is what may reasonably be attributed to the illimitable -regions in which they expatiate." \ And the occasion of the difficulties in the two departments appears to be analogous also. In our examination of the pre- adamite earth we saw that the constitution of nature is a scheme too vast for our comprehension. " The subtilty of nature (re- marks Bacon) far surpasses the subtilty of either sense or intellect." Everything is related to everything. But if we take any one event as central, and look back in the direction from which it came, we soon arrive at a point which compels us to stop, but where something invisible and unknown must be pre- supposed, in order to account for its existence ; if, then, we look forwards in the direction in which it is travelling, we see that there is no end to its effects, though it soon passes into a domain, where we have no power to follow it ; while, in both directions, we see it, in its progress, touching innumerable other things on the right hand and on the left, or touched by them, all of which are similarly charged with influences interminable. Now, it is highly credible that, in a similar manner, the difficulties and mysteries we encounter in our contemplation of man as a sub- ject of moral government, are owing to our imperfect compre- hension of it. We never see more than a small portion of it. * See Dr. Henry More's " Antidote to Atheism," pp. 13 151. t Platon. Phaedon, 136. t Dr. Hampden's Essay on the Phil. Evid, of Christianity, p. 109. 28* 330 MAN. The perplexities belong to the subject, not to the object ; to the necessary limitation of the creature, and not to anything inhe- rently inexplicable in the acts of the Creator. This appears still more credible when it is remembered, that the two classes of difficulties are, as we have seen, in various respects, akin ; and, especially, that the moral scheme transcends the natural constitution, and takes us far beyond it. And so, also, from the fact that, in the natural scheme, means apparently undesirable are found, by experience, Conducive to ends productive of a large overbalance of happiness, it is highly credible that the same is true, of means and ends in the moral scheme. The vindica- tion of this scheme, however, is not, at present, our object, but only to point out such analogies between it and the natural scheme as to justify the conclusion that they are only connected parts of the same great plan. This is the principle of Butler's immortal Analogy. " Origen (he remarks) has, with singular sagacity, observed, that 'he who believes the Scriptures to have proceeded from him who is the Author of nature, may well expect to find the same sort of difficulties in it as are found in the constitution of nature.' And, in a like way of reflection, it may be added, that he who denies the Scripture to have been from God upon accou'nt of these dif- ficulties, may for the very same reason deny the world to have been formed by Him." Admitting then, the system of nature to be of Divine origination, the analogies which exist between it and the moral scheme to which man belongs, warrant the con- clusion that they are more than analogically related,* that " they make up together but one scheme," of which the natural is car- ried on in subserviency to the moral administration. 18. Now, if the distinct and successive parts of the creation constitute one entire whole, the various objects which it includes must admit of scientific classification. But what principle shall we take as the basis of our classification ; the objective, or the objects which the mind has to classify ; the subjective, or the faculties of the classifying mind itself; the ideas which each department of knowledge involves ; or any other principle ? * " To him (says the wonderful Roger Bacon Doctor Mirabilis in his Opus Majus, p. 476) to him who denies the truth of the faith be- cause he is unable to understand it, I will propose in reply the course of nature. . . . For if, in the meanest objects of creation, truths are found before which the mental pride of man must bow, and which he must be- lieve though he cannot understand, how much more should man humble his mind before the glorious truths of God." See also " Bishop Browne's Divine Analogy." ANALOGY. 331 And having selected the principle, and applied it, so as to have parcelled out our knowledge into sciences, the order into which these parts shall be distributed has still to be determined. The basis does not necessarily disclose the dependence, or supply the arrangement, of the sciences. Thus, Lord Bacon, assuming the subjective basis, distributed knowledge into branches an- swering to memory, imagination, and reason ; but D'Alembert, while adopting the principle of Bacon's partition, changes the order of the distribution by placing reason before the imagina- tion.* This order of succession has been made to depend,, gen- erally speaking, on the fact whether the method followed has been that of the order of discovery and historical progress, in which art usually precedes science ; or that of the order of phi- losophical exposition and instruction, in which scientific reasons and principles precede their practical application. 19. The point of view from which we are enabled to look at the subject, presents us with the basis and the order of both methods, shows them in harmonious combination, and accounts for their existence. For, first, as to the basis of classification, it presents us with the subjective principle, according to which the Creator is seen proceeding from the logical to the chrono- logical, from ideas to laws, from the general to the particular, from the possible to the actual, in the successively enlarging spheres of matter, life, sense, and reason ; a series in which man takes his place as one of the consecutive means by which the Infinite is pleased to expound His own nature. Now this is a basis of arrangement, it will be observed, which prescribes and includes its own order of distribution. God, nature, man ; the order is settled. According to this classification, we have ; Fundamental ideas. Sciences. Classification. Substance .... Metaphysics . Essential Being. Space and Time . . Mathematics . Quantity, or conditions of dependent being. ( Astronomy Cause, or Power . . } Physics . . . > Unorganized Bodies. ( Chemistry . . ) Design, or Wisdom . ( Phytonomy ( Botany . . . t Organized Bodies. Goodness .... Zoology. '. . Sentient Being. ( Applied sciences ^ Rightness .... } Ethics . . . > Rational Being.f ( Theology . . ] * Disc. Prelim. t Each of these divisions easily admits of subdivision. The partial re- 332 MAN. 20. Such are the principle and tiie order according to which we conceive of science as present to the Divine Mind. But in first studying and exploring it for himself, man lias to pursue the reverse course. As a being to whom, as well as by whom, the Divine manifestation is made, he proceeds from the objec- tive to the subjective, from facts to principles, from the chrono- logical to the logical, which is, at every step, presupposed. Thus, if nature be his study, starting from the point where his own mind and nature touch where sense-perception gives him the knowledge of external existence' he finds that these ex- ternal phenomena presuppose laws, and illustrate them; and that these again presuppose certain principles, or ideas, without which he feels that all reasoning would be impossible. We say, lie finds, and he feels ; and if next he looks into this find- ing and feeling being himself the order of his psychological investigation is still the same. Proceeding, that is, from the point where his mental contact with the external world awa- kens him to sensation, he finds, on turning back upon himself, that his mental phenomena are amenable to inherent laws, and that, as an intellectual being, those laws necessarily presuppose certain fundamental and primary ideas. This is the order of the mind's progress in knowledge, alike with the unaided indi- vidual, and with a nation emerging from ignorance to the light of philosophy. And thus man finds himself returning by induc- tion to the region of deduction ; ascending an intellectual lad- der, which reaches from the finite to the infinite, from earth to heaven. And having reached the domain of primary truth and independent being, he sees why it is that we conceive of the Divine mind as proceeding from the subjective to the objective, or from the logical to the chronological, in the order spoken of above ; because the human mind is made in the image of the Divine, and is, when it attains to that conception, simply re- uniting itself intellectually, however imperfectly, with the Di- vine, and viewing objects from the same point. Henceforth, (though his method of learning and of verification is, and must be, from facts to principles) his method of philosophizing and exhibiting knowledge is one with that of the Author of nature. semblance of the third column of this tabular arrangement to M. Comtc's Tableau Synoptiquc in his Cours de Philosophic positive, makes it proper for me to s"tate that it existed before I had any knowledge of his classifi- cation. Indeed, a moment's consideration will show that it not only flows naturally from the order which my subject prescribes, but is absolutely required by it. ANALOGY. 333 Hence Aristotle, not less than Plato, regarded metaphysics as coming after physics in the order of study, but as prior in the order of science, representing it as the First Philosophy and the Universal Science, common to all the sciences.* And Lord Bacon speaks of this Prima Philosophia as the root or stock out of which the other parts of knowledge shoot into separate branches.! Science results from the combination of the two methods the analytical, which must guide our studies of na- ture, and by which we ascend from effects to causes ; and the synthetical, which appears in the works of nature, and by which God is beheld descending from causes to effects. 21. It may now be proper to call attention to the character- istics of the classification which we have adopted. First, start- ing with the idea or belief of a necessarily-existing and inde- pendent Being, and with the conditions of dependent being, we have regarded the successive stages of dependent being as based, respectively, on the ideas of power, and wisdom, and goodness, and holiness ; in other words, of cause, design, benev- olence, and rectitude. Secondly, these general ideas, which in- clude numerous subordinate ones, proceed from the more simple to the less, or rather from the most simple" that of an Infinite Being to the regularly-increasing complex. For, thirdly, each science in the succession supposes the preceding science or sciences. Thus the mathematical science presupposes a scien- tial mind a mind cognizant of the unalterable relations of space and number which constitute the scientific conditions of an actual creation ; the science of unorganized bodies presup- poses the mathematical and metaphysical sciences ; the science of organized bodies presupposes that of unorganized matter; and so of the rest. Thus, fourthly, the arrangement is, in effect, circular ; the science of mind, Of which the laws of human de- velopment in families and communities are but a further un- folding or illustration, remanding us to " the Father of spirits," whose manifested and revealed relations give us Theology. And, fifthly, this arrangement is in harmony with that Revela- tion which is a transcript of the Divine Mind, and, as such, finds its reason in Him whose nature is the ultimate ground of all things. 22. But we have seen that man, besides being intelligent, is also an emotional, voluntary, and moral being. As intelligent, * Mctaph., lib. i., c. 2 ; lib. iv., c. 1 ; lib. vi., c. 1. t De Augm. Sclent, lib. iii. c. 1. 334 MAN. his sensational perceptions place him in relation to the bare phenomena of the external world, to the contingent, giving us unconnected facts ; his reflective understanding gives him the relations of these phenomena, as the probable, in the sense of the inductively proveable, or the experimental sciences; his reason gives him their ultimate relations, as the necessary, or deductive philosophy ; and, as the actual is necessarily limited, while the ideas which it embodies are unlimited, his imagina- tion gives him the possible, or that which might be : as emotion- al, he is placed in relation to the agreeable and desirable, or that which, in harmony with the general constitution of things, should be : as voluntary, he is related to the practicable, or that which can be ; these latter three giving us the arts aesthetic and use- ful : and, as endowed with conscience, he stands related to the moral in the largest and highest sense, or that which, in har- mony with immutable right, ought to be. And here, first, again, the order is from the most simple to the complex from thought to emotion, from emotion to volun- tary action, and from action, right in the lower relation of man to the constitution of things, to action right also in its higher re- lation to the Author of that constitution. For, secondly, (as we have shown in the chapter on Order) the order of succes- sion is the order of dependence the second implying the first, the third implying the preceding two, and the fourth presup- posing them all. So also, regarding man as a voluntary being influenced by motives, his instincts and passions, which connect him with the irrational creation, imply his sensational percep- tions merely ; his self-love, which individualizes him as a being having an end of his own, implies his rational powers and his appropriate emotions; his benevolent affections, which place him in relation to the human race, imply the preceding, and his impartative emotions also ; and his sense of obligation, which places him in relation to immutable Perfection, implies all the elements included in the* other classes of motives. The same order of succession and dependence appears, if we look at man in his relation to the great end. His knowledge of God implies intelligence, including imagination, to which the infinitude of the subject pre-eminently appeals. His appreciation of the Divine excellence implies his emotional nature, which looks back to his knowledge. His acceptable obedience implies freedom of will, which looks back to his emotions. And his holy enjoyment of God implies that power of moral approbation which presup- poses all the rest, though it is something added to them? And ANALOGY. 335 thus, thirdly, whether we take man's nature in its totality, or in its intellectual, or its practical relations, or in respect to its final purpose, the same order of succession and de- pendence invariably lands us at that point where he is seen reflecting the Divine image, and partaking of the Divine nature ; and from whence he is meant to re-act, armed with the influence of the Divine government, on all the subordinate parts of his constitution. Nor, fourthly, is the science of human nature less based on a fundamental idea than are the sciences of external nature. The idea of Perfection lies at the foundation of all our psychological investigations ; and of this idea, Law, Truth and Beauty, Eight and Obligation, Personality and Immortality, are only correlative forms modified according to man's different re- lations. Ideas of Spirit and Cause, Design and Happiness, too, are suggested by the phenomena of his own nature, identical with those suggested by his study of the external universe ; for man's constitution includes a summary of nature. But as it is in man that the Creator has been pleased to reflect his moral image, the idea of Perfection underlies all his self-investiga- tions. 23. But if this classification places the first, or individual man, at the head of the creation, the same theory applied to collective man would assign to every member of the human family " his own place." Here, indeed, a subject of immeasu- rable compass, and of the highest interest, opens to view. In our application of the principle to the three stages of nature inorganic, organic, and sentient we saw that it distributes the phenomena of each stage according to the order of progressive nature, taken in connection with the relative importance of the progressive steps ; and we saw that each advancing stage, by presenting additional phenomena, multiplied the points of com- parison, and thus increased our means of classification, and our powers of testing the truth of such classification. But the new characteristics which the human species presents augment the points of comparison between the different members of the race indefinitely. If the twenty-six letters of the alphabet admit of combinations in words and sentences, which all the books writ- ten, and all the sounds hitherto uttered by man, leave compara- tively undiminished, how unimaginable must be the combina- tions of which the alphabet or elements of human nature admit, especially Avhen these are multiplied by all the possible varie- ties of man's external condition ! To say that no two men of all the^nyriads that have lived have been precisely alike, would 336 MAN. amount to little. The possible diversities of which humanity admits are hardly as yet numerically diminished to any sensible amount, and could be exhausted by no conceivable number of generations, and within no computable tract of time. Yet the scientific distribution of the whole is possible. 24. According to the method which our theory prescribes, 1 , the classification of men is to be made from a calculation and comparison of all the elements which the human constitution in- cludes from the lowest mechanical law and chemical property to its highest moral perfection. Not a single property, organ, or faculty is to be passed over as unimportant. 2. It ranges the characteristic properties of human nature on a graduated scale, according to which the value of each property rises as it ap- proaches man's highest distinction. 3. It requires that each group or class of men shall be formed of such individuals only as resemble each other more than they resemble any other human beings, or, as have the greatest number of important properties in common. 4. It provides not only for the formation of men into classes, but also for the arrangement of these classes in an ascending series, ranging according to the ideal of human per- fection ; for, as we have seen, it recognizes degrees of value or intensity in the main characteristics of the human economy. Consequently, the affinity of man to man is to be regarded as nearest, when the resemblance lies between those characteristics which are of the highest value. 25. According to this method, then, the highest generalization of which man admits, is that which places him according to his moral character. For we cannot here say, as we did when speaking of the classification of mere organic bodies, that an arrangement correctly formed on one function will harmonize with an arrangement correctly formed on another function. This is true, indeed, of man considered merely as an organic being. But he has more than organic functions ; and among these higher faculties, disturbance and derangement exist. If we class the members of the human family according to their physiological relations, we obtain resemblances of color, and physical conformation, and adopt family and national ties. If they are classed according to their knowledge, or their progress in civilization, the prior arrangement may have to be almost entirely broken up, and parties to be brought together which had before been separated ; and a union is formed of a higher order still. If classed according to their emotional nature their tastes and wishes, and affections a new arrangement is CHANGE. 337 formed, and a stronger compact, still. But if, now, those were to be selected who, besides believing the same truths, and ap- proving the same objects, were bent on pursuing them from an enlightened sense of duty to God, and from the deep feeling that their endless well-being depended on attaining them, we should have formed a class united together by the closest, high- est, and most enduring affinities of which we can conceive. This, we are Divinely assured, will form the basis of the great, the final, classification of our race. Owing, indeed, to the ele- ments of responsibility which our nature includes, no two even of this best and highest class present precisely the same aspect to the Divine government, or stand in exactly the same relation to it. For, in order accurately to determine that relation, the original constitution, physical, mental, and moral, of each, and of all his subsequent external circumstances, must be taken into account. And thus it happens that the very minuteness and multiplicity of the points of comparison by which each man will be made to " stand in his lot at the end of the days," takes the work of actual classification out of our incompetent hands leaving us only to "judge ourselves " individually and refers the ultimate generalization of the race to Omniscience. But of that " number which no man can number," the first man had now appeared the model and father of the species ; and of that final judgment the first foreshadowing was about to appear in his Divine arraignment. CHAPTER XVm. CHANGE. 1. WILL man fall ? From the moment in which he became the subject of moral government, this was, not unlikely, the great question of the intelligent universe. Consequences were depending on it, the least glimpse of which must have thrown the mere physical disruption of a planet, or of a system of worlds, into the shade. Among the means for forming an antecedent conjecture on the subject, one was, the fact that man came into a system of things which was already subject to a law of change. His lot was cast on the line of progress at a time when succes- sive raoes of animal life already belonged to the silence of the 29 338 MAN. past, and when even the last trace of the existence of many of them had perished. He had joined the march of creation at a point when the worlds of the dinotherium and the mastodon had passed away, and their very sepulchres had been buried. His own body came from their dust. Parts of his physical structure commemorated theirs. The air he breathed had been exhaled by the giant ferns and ancient palm forests then lying deep and fossilized in the crust of the earth. The tree of life had its roots in a grave. The dew which " watered the whole face of the ground," had glittered in the light of former worlds. Traces of a recent chaos and creation were around him. His own exist- ence was the latest illustration of the law of change. True, the planetary changes which had preceded his coming were all physical and progressive ; whereas the change which our question contemplates as possible in man, is of a moral nature, and threatens to arrest all subsequent progress. But a second fact was, that some members of another race of intelligent beings, inhabiting another part of the universe, had actually fallen from " their first estate." On the supposition, then, that man and they were both comprehended in one scheme, he had come into the more advanced part of a system subject to moral derangement as well as to physical revolution. Thirdly, we have seen that the freedom with which he is en- dowed implies the power and possibility of sinning. However great or little his actual liability to sin may be, the danger is not metaphysically impossible. The same fearful possibility is pointed at, fourthly, by the susceptibilities of penitence, endurance, and compassion which his nature encloses. Not that sin was to be looked for as if for the sake of developing these remedial properties ; but still they appeared to contemplate the possibility of sin, and to form a subjective provision for such an alternative. And, fifthly, it might have been surmised that the sinful invasion of moral government as newly set up on earth, would form a grand occasion for the display of the Divine all-sufficiency. Not, indeed, that the bare possibility of sin would be converted into a necessity expressly to afford such an occasion ; but that the evil would not be arbitrarily prevented ; and that it might not have been conceivable how, except on the hypothesis of some such a change, any new occasion would arise for a further development of the Divine resources. These were some of the elements which might have entered into an antecedent conjecture respecting the probability of human defection. CHANGE. 339 2. Will this stage of the Divine procedure be sooner or later succeeded by another ? As the previous question related to human conduct, this respects the plan of the Divine operations, and, as such, reminds us that progression is a law of the plan. For, were the scheme of the Divine procedure to terminate at any given point, the proof of the Divine all-sufficiency for un- limited manifestation would terminate with it. Nor can we imagine ourselves to have surveyed the advancing stages of creation up to the coming of man, without mtfre than suspecting that we had been looking on the successive steps of a scene preparatory for a new stage of the Divine procedure. Whether from an investigation of human nature, we should have inferred that the occasion for that new stage would be probably derived from man's defection or not, everything antecedent in the Di- vine procedure would have been seen combining to point to a coming enlargement of the manifestation. 3. Thus we come to the great principle that the law of pro- gression is itself regulated by a law determining the time and manner of each successive stage of the advancing process. Even those who advocate the hypothesis of the creative progress by a law of natural development, cannot consistently entertain any valid objection against this principle. If they admit that the law had a Lawgiver, they must allow that every stage of its development was prospectively included in his plan, and that, for the same reason that any stage was designed to occur at all, there must have been a right time for its occurrence, or a reason which made the period of its actual occurrence the right period. The law with which we have now to do respects the nature of that reason. And whence can it come but from the creature or the Creator ? In other words, the reason which regulates the progress of creation may be one which respects the well- being of the creature, or the ultimate design of the Creator, or both combined. On the supposition that the whole scheme is advancing according to laws, this advance and these laws imply tendency and result ; if the tendency be to secure the good of the creature, the law of progress will be seen fulfilling this con- dition, and will be regulated by it ; and if the tendency be also to bring into view the boundlessness of the Divine resources, the law of progress will be regulated in its movements by the attainment of this end. 4. For example, the primitive earth was to become the scene of organic life, but not till it had passed through such foreseen changes, and had attained to such a condition as adapted it to 340 MAN. the existence of life, might the law of progression be expected to receive another illustration. But when the well-being of this new principle life had been thus prepared for, had the Divine Omnipotence, which the inorganic creation set forth, been adequately displayed ? The proximate end was attained, was the ultimate end also ? Again, vegetable life prepared the way for animal existence ; but when the well-being of the ani- mal was thus provided for, the question still remained, prior to its creation, whethet or not the wisdom of God had been, in any sense, adequately illustrated. In process of time, the earth was sufficiently ameliorated for man's appearance, but this alone cannot be supposed to have determined the time of his creation. We are aware, indeed, that, according to the advocates of devel- opment by natural law, as soon as ever certain physical conditions were present, man would emerge into being by an inevitable necessity ; that the only reason for his appearance would be the concurrence of certain favorable organic conditions, indepen- dently of any Divine interposition. Now, while we freely admit that the time of man's creation presupposes the existence of innumerable conditions, organic and inorganic, it is most illogical to conclude, that because a thing does not exist without such and such conditions, therefore it must exist with them. This is to confound the possible with the necessary, and to pro- mote conditions into the place of causes. "We have seen that, for aught that geology can show -to the contrary, man might have appeared much earlier than he did had it so pleased his Creator. But when the proximate end of the animal period had been attained, and the well-being of man had been provided for, had the ultimate end of that period been in any degree attained ? Did the long succession of animal worlds, including those, also, to which they looked forwards, exhibit all the illus- trations of all-sufficient benevolence, which, under the circum- stances, might have been expected ? Had the earth existed long enough to justify the inference that the power, and wisdom, and goodness, which had shown themselves sufficient for con- ducting it through all the mighty and complicated changes of which it contained the evidence, is all-sufficient for every similar change of which the earth admits ? We believe that had the evidence of this all-sufficiency been incomplete, when, according to the law of progression, the earth had become adapted to human life, the law of progression would have waited for the completion. Hazardous as this sentiment may appear, it is only affirming that the means would have been subordinated to the CHANGE. 341 end. But when we remember that we are speaking of " God only wise," all appearance of hazard vanishes ; for, " seeing the end from the beginning," He can make all his operations har- moniously coincide, rendering the attainment of one part of his design the period for commencing the attainment of another. 5. Admitting, then, that the successive stages of creation, including man's introduction on earth, have not hitherto taken place either accidentally or capriciously, but according to a rea- son which respects both the well-being of the creature and the proof of the all-sufficiency of the Creator, we have now to ad- vert to this reason in relation to the first stage of the human dispensation, or probationary man in paradise. Here, indeed, we enter a domain, not only in advance of all that had gone before, but essentially distinct from the whole the domain of law properly so called. Here, Holiness reigns over a free sub- ject. The Divine Governor and the governed are connatural. Here is a second will. If the Creator has a purpose, so also has the creature. If God has an ultimate end to be answered by this stage of creation, man also has an end to answer an end not necessitated and unconsciously pursued, as with the animal, but intelligently and voluntarily self-purposed. And yet the very perfection of the Divine will demands the entire coinci- dence of the human will with it. To deviate from it, will be to deviate from perfection. To obey it, is the highest and the only freedom. Evidently, then, the well-being of man depends on the harmony of his will with the Supreme will, and requires that he should be made experimentally acquainted with this fact. Not till this proximate end has been attained may any change be expected to take place in man's first or probationary stage ; for not till then will he be prepared to take an onward step. We know, indeed for the event declared it that, from the moment accountable man began to breathe, a new dis- pensation impended. But if, with our present knowledge, we could then have been asked what it was which would make the time Divinely selected for the introduction of that new dispen- sation, the right time ? or, what it was which would fitly termi- nate the probationary period ? we should have replied, when man has been made to comprehend his relative position in the universe, by understanding his freedom and his dependence, and not till then. How long it may last after that, or what may be the nature of any new economy which may be subsequently introduced, are distinct questions; but the well-being of man requires that the Divine procedure should pause till he has 29* 342 MAN. learnt his relation to that procedure. This is his primary les- son, and fundamental to his happiness. Ignorant of this, he is liable, unconsciously, to come into collision with the Divine will at every step he takes. This is his great and only danger ; and until he is sensible of it, his endless well-being is in jeop- ardy. 6. The question arises, then, were the conditions of man's well-being, as a dependent and accountable creature, fulfilled, during his probationary state? Was his freedom a reality? Was he apprised of the relation in which it placed him to God ? And had he an opportunity of verifying both his freedom and his dependence ? If these questions can be answered in the affirmative, man may expect that a new and distinct advance in the" Divine procedure is at hand. Now, as to the first condi- tion the reality of man's freedom we have only to refer to our chapter on the Will, or to appeal to our own consciousness. Our every volition proves it. Temptation presupposes it. Everything around us invites us to assert it. Its existence is implied in our very conception of it. 7. May it not be expected, then, that man will be apprised of the relation in which his freedom places him to God, or be furnished with the means of knowing it ? Evidently, his free- dom exposes him to a danger unknown to all pre-existing na- ture the danger of confounding freedom with independence of God of identifying the idea of power with the idea of right of supposing that because he can do a thing, he may do it. Because his own Avill is a law, he is in danger of losing sight of every other law, and even of the Divine Lawgiver. For ages, his posterity imagined that their little planet was the centre of the solar system ; that sun and stars existed for, and moved around it. Had the earth itself been a conscious being, and indulged in the same delusion, indefinite confusion and ruin would almost necessarily have ensned. Yet this is only a pic- ture of the moral liability of the first human being, of supposing that he is central and supreme when he is only subordinate and dependent. Accordingly, as we have already seen, everything around him told him of its dependence. The fact that he alone had a free will, left all the rest of creation pointing him away with a direct finger, to the Will on which it depended. This was the great truth, which it never ceased to reiterate. His consciousness of his own direct Divine Parentage the ever- present fact, that he was the newly-created " son of God " pointed him to the same supreme Will. Though a law to him- CHANGE. 343 self, he must have felt that his constitution was an imperium in imperio. Divine communications guided him. Divine appoint- ments surrounded him. In a sense more special than that it could be said of any of his posterity, " in God he li ved, and moved, and had his being." 8. But if, further, a specific intimation should be given to man of the responsible character of his freedom, what more could his grave position require, or Benevolence itself dictate ? Such an intimation, we have seen, was given, and given in the form likely to render it most memorable and effective that of law. Indeed, the imperative is the only language suited to the will. In the next chapter, we shall see that it was a law not as is generally supposed, requiring vindication, but that it was protective ; prescribed by Paternal Goodness ; combin- ing the minimum of trial with the conditional maximum of advantage that it was probation made easy. Nor have we at present to inquire how disobedience was possible to a sinless being. We have only to do with the fact, as a fact, that, in every way short of infringing his freedom, man was protected from the possible abuse of that freedom. Tremendous possi- bility ! 9. We have said that, from the moment when man became the subject of moral government, the question whether or not he would fall by transgression may probably have been the engrossing subject of the intelligent universe. Marvellous transformations of matter may have been taking place at the time in other parts of the Divine dominions, exhibiting the Creative Power to angelic eyes on a scale unknown before. But, on the supposition that these holy beings knew anything of the immense interest depending on man's probation, and re- membering the period of their own trial, we can conceive them turning away from even a new creation as a spectacle compara- tively devoid of interest. How long the period of suspense lasted we know not ; but during its continuance we can well be- lieve that they paused from many of their accustomed pursuits ; that, in their eyes, nature itself appeared to sympathize in the anxieties of the crisis ; that they even felt as if put on their own probation again. Jealousy for the honor of God, and profound concern for man, may be supposed to have divided and absorbed their thoughts. Doubtless, as far as they saw, the probabilities were all in favor of a successful issue. What man ought to be, lie already was ; what he ought not to be. was only a possibil- ity. But the hour of trial came, and he fell. He indulged 344 MAN. desire at the expense of right. A law was given him, and he felt its force ; but, voluntarily breaking away from the sacred restraint, he deranged the harmony of his own nature, disturbed the tranquillity of the intelligent universe, and incurred the penalty of transgression. No sign which external nature could have given of that crisis her hoarsest thunder, or most wrathful sky would have been adequate to the magnitude of the occasion. It was a sorrow too deep for her tears. Man himself was not conscious of all its import. A new sensation filled his consciousness a sense of sin. Now, first, he expe- rienced pain. " His eyes were opened ; " he had come to the " knowledge of evil." The equilibrium of his powers was dis- turbed; and the trembling of the solid earth under his feet could not have added to his sense of insecurity. The first cloud shaded his brow ; the first arrow entered his soul. There might have been " silence in heaven " a solemn pause, an- ticipative of his doom. But he was already self-doomed. His own conscience, quicker than any external process, and dispen- sing with all the formalities of a trial, forestalled the sentence of the Divine Lawgiver, and was already carrying it into exe- cution. 10. We have not now to speak of the consequences of the first sin ; our object is only to show that the human dispensa- tion is now open to a new interposition, and awaits it. Had the law of progress been put into operation earlier that is, had a new stage of the Divine economy been introduced while the probation of man was yet pending, it would have virtually repealed the probationary stage, and have defeated its design ; man might never have felt the extent of his dependence ; and what the undisturbed issue of his trial would have been, might have for ever remained unknown. But his trial is now over. He, a dependent being, has aimed at independence. The cen- trifugal power of his will has overcome the centripetal law of dependence, and he has rushed into an orbit of his own. He has not merely essayed to stand alone, but has forced his way through a law which was meant to hold him in allegiance to his Maker. The abuse of the highest good can be productive only of the greatest evil ; and this evil man has incurred. His first sin has been committed. As a perfect being, his probation is at an end. He has outraged his Freedom, and increased his Dependence. From this moment, therefore, a new dipensation of some kind may be, sooner or later, expected. 11. But although the proximate end of man's probation is CHANGE. 345 attained, is the ultimate end of this first dispensation answered ? That is to say, admitting that its great design was to manifest the all-sufficiency of the Divine Holiness, is that final purpose, in any sense, attained ? The former end may have been an- swered, but riot the latter ; for the former falls far within the compass of the latter. In other words, the two ends, though inseparably united, are distinct ; for while every condition required by the law of man's well-being may have been ful- filled, the adequate illustration of the Divine Holiness may require something more; and the question is, whether the claims of this ultimate law are satisfied. Have all the illustra- tions of Holiness been furnished which, under the circum- stances, might have been expected ? 12. Here, however, the prior question arises furnished to whom ? for on the answer to this inquiry will depend the kind and amount of illustration necessary. If the party contemplated be the first man himself, doubtless he was ready to attest, from the depths of his inmost consciousness, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty ! " His own constitution had been a proclamation of the Divine holiness to the universe. And now that he had violated that constitution, the pains of conscious guilt were a new proclamation to the same effect. We cannot conceive of his requiring any additional evidence, that the Being who had thus demonstrated His moral excellence was capable of accumulating the illustrations of it to any amount. 13. Or, if the party to be convinced of the all-sufficiency of the Divine holiness be the intelligent beings afterwards made known to man under the denomination of angels, they, probably, were already satisfied on this point. Their own natures had been dedicated to this Perfection. They had passed through a probationary state, in which they had displayed and maintained it. They had seen it awfully vindicated in the doom of those of their race who had outraged it. They themselves were now confirmed in it lived in the near and open vision of it. Although, therefore, they rejoiced in the new aspect under which it appeared in the constitution and relations of man, it may have added nothing to their mere conviction of the all- sufficiency of the Divine Holiness. As evidence of this suffi- ciency, their own history was enough. If proof only were aimed at, .that which man's history supplied would have been in excess. Up to the point of holiness, they saw in his history a recapitulation of their own ; and that, probably, which espe- cially awakened their expectations related to the coming econ- 346 MAN. omy, which, according to the law of progress, would carry the Divine procedure beyond that point. 14. If, however, the party to be satisfied be ourselves, we must be careful to limit our expectations according to the spe- cial nature of the case. In the original statement of the law, now under consideration, I remarked that the time for an ad- vance in any given department of the Divine procedure would of course be determined in a manner, and for a reason, differing with the particular nature and design of the department first, by each existing stage passing through all the combinations and changes of which it admits, before, another begins ; or, secondly, by its existing long enough to show that it involves all the ne- cessary possibilities for answering such and such ends, if its con- tinuance were permitted; or, thirdly, until it has sufficiently taught the specific truth, and attained the proximate and par- ticular end, for which it was originated. And the obvious ground and reason for this is, that were any stage of the Divine procedure to be replaced or superseded a moment before it had, in one or other of these ways, demonstrated the all-sufficiency of God for that particular stage, the ultimate end would not be answered. 15. Now as to the first of these conditions, it evidently is not applicable to this opening stage of the human dispensation. The only sense in which it could be supposed to apply, would be by imagining that, instead of one human being, innumerable men might have been put on probation in every conceivable variety of relation to success ; and that they might have been thus put on trial either contemporaneously or successively. Probably, something analogous to the contemporaneous method was ac- tually adopted in the instance of angelic probation. And, in the history of the human race, both the contemporaneous and the successive methods exist in the only respects in which they can be conceived of in relation to such a race. Every member of the human family, in every generation, has a personal proba- tion, however different it may be from the trial of the progeni- tor of the race. And our attention, in subsequent discussions, will have to be very much directed to the important relations of this individual and universal probation. But to ask for either of these methods in an absolute form is, first, to ask for an essen- tially different race of beings ; a race not successively produced, nor mutually influencing each other ; whereas, we are at present asking for adequate illustrations of the Divine Holiness in the constitution and original condition of the actual man. And, CHANGE. 347 secondly, it is to ask, in effect, for an entirely different dispen- sation ; a final, and not a progressive one. For in the case sup- posed, no conceivable variety of probation could satisfy. The trial of innumerable individuals, and innumerable generations, would still admit of augmentation, and so on indefinitely. Whereas, we are inquiring Avhether or not the probationary stage of man's history, considered as one of many in a progres- sive scheme, exhibited the holiness of God in a light adequately illustrative of its all-sufficiency. 16. If, then, the first of the conditions specified had not, and, from the nature of the Divine plan, could not have been com- plied with, during this probationary stage, had the second con- dition been fulfilled ? That is, were the actual constitution and the trial of man, as a subject of moral government, worthy of a Being of perfect holiness ? Now, we may point to all the preceding portions of this vol- ume for a reply ; for every part of human nature, and every law of every part, terminate in man's moral relations. Could we have known the constitution of the angelic beings who pre- ceded man, as subjects of moral government, we should proba- bly have regarded the question before us as already, and for ever, determined. Respecting their original state we know but little ; we know, indeed, that now, in what is to them their future, or final state, they are spoken of as spiritual, as man himself is destined to be in his future state. But the fact that only some of them fell from their first estate, proves that they sustain a very different relation to each other from that which men mu- tually sustain. Now that a second race of moral beings should have been made, differently constituted from the first, and yet equally endowed with every element of responsibility, would seem to be at once a test and proof of the Divine all-sufficiency surpassing the requirements of the case. That the constitution of this being should include matter and spirit ; that is, necessity and freedom, mechanism and causality ; and that in the exercise of his self-government he should recognize a right and a wrong in his every voluntary movement, assimilating him to the Di- vine government, would seem to exhibit a triumph over the greatest difficulties, if not even a choice of the difficulties, for the sake of triumphing over them. That this being, though related to time and place, should be capable of conceiving of mo- ral distinctions necessary, immutable, and eternal ; that though having to take up some or his pleasures from the dust, he should be able to reach for others, his noblest, to the throne of God ; 348 MAN. and that, though in his nature allied to earth, he should feel himself capable of immortality, and destined for it all these are further enhancements of our views of the Divine all-suffi- ciency. And then, that the being thus constituted should have been placed in a position in which, though sinless, his fall was possible, and only possible ; in which, that is, his trial and his power were so nicely balanced as to leave him perfectly free ; a position from which he could command a view of endless life, with the prospect of taking on with him ever-accumulating means of enjoyment as the result of obedience ; what more can be necessary to demonstrate the sufficiency of which we speak ? And, finally, when this being had sinfully violated law, that it should then have come to light that he was so constituted as to show that sin is possible, and even punishable, without at all impairing his accountability ; that sin is self-punishment ; and that, as such, he could not commit even his first sin without eliciting at once the hostility of Holiness, and his own vindica- tion of its claims ; what more could Holiness itself do in order to proclaim its all-sufficiency ? 17. The question relates not now to the Benevolence of God ; nor to any possible displays of the Divine Holiness essentially different from the actual one ; nor do we ask whether Holiness demonstrated its perfection by doing all that it could do, by ex- hausting itself, so to speak, in the first stage of the human dis- pensation. Yet this is the kind of evidence of the Divine per- fection which some persons inconsiderately look for. Whereas the existence of such evidence is not only inconceivable in itselfj but would, if it were possible for it to be realized, defeat the very end of its existence. For the attainment of that end the display of all-sufficient holiness in the eyes of finite in- telligence requires that the display be progressive; that it include displays other than the creation and probation of holy beings, and additional to them ; that it prove itself equal to every crisis that may occur in the system created ; otherwise, it would be justly objected that the proof of its all-sufficiency was want- ing. Accordingly, the manifestation of Holiness is still in pro- gress. The subsequent display of other perfections has not ter- minated that of Holiness ; they co-exist and co-operate together. If, for a moment, we should feel, then, as if that primary display of holiness were less ample and glorious than might possibly have been expected, we are to remember that the very power we possess of forming such a conception shows the folly of en- tertaining it, for the same power must have belonged potentially CHANGE. 349 to the first man. And, further, if our power of conceiving the idea of all-sufficient holiness have been developed by the subse- quent displays of that perfection, we are to remember that all these sublime displays were made possible by that primary il- lustration of it. In forming our estimate of that illustration, therefore, we must be careful not to measure it by a scale of subsequent formation, and applicable only to subsequent dis- plays of holiness ; for this is to object, not so much to the suffi- ciency of that primary manifestation, as to its subsequent pro- gressiveness ; as well as to forget that in that earliest exhibition of holiness were contained the germ and promise of all that has been since made manifest. Accordingly, in the creation of man, the Divine Being is represented as proposing to produce an Image of his own Holiness a being in whom He should be- hold the reflection of his own moral excellence. Having made man, He is further represented as pronouncing this new moral representation of Himself "good" sufficient satisfactory. And although that first economy was not of protracted duration, it lasted long enough to show (for events of measureless magni- tude may take place in a moment) that it included infinite pos- sibilities. While the result of that economy showed that its Author was as able to vindicate holiness as He was to make a being capable of it; that He was sufficient for all the emer- gencies of the dispensation. 18. As to the third of the conditions named that the econ- omy continue until it has sufficiently taught the specific truth, and attained the proximate and particular end for which it was originated this we have already seen fulfilled in the former part of this chapter, on the law which determined the period of change in relation to man's well-being. With every suitable inducement to stand, man had fallen. Not satisfied with free- dom, he had essayed independence. He, the limited, had at- tempted the unlimited. Left exposed only at a single point, he had failed to guard even that. His moral power, designed to ennoble and raise his sensitive nature to its own standing, had allowed itself to be lured from its regal height by that very na- ture, and had debased itself to the dust. Man's representative trial is at an end. Each of all his innumerable descendants, indeed, will pass through a personal trial suited to his altered position ; and all the circumstances and results of every such trial will be equitably adjudged. But never more can he pass through probation with the same advantages with a nature derived immediately from God, specially protected by Him, 30 350 MAN. and exempted from all the influence of evil example. In the very act of aiming at self-sufficiency, he has not only proved his natural and necessary insufficiency, but has actually parted with the secret of his strength. And thus the first great prac- tical lesson of man's dependence has been written out at length, and deposited in the ark of man's history. And now also the Holiness which had made man in its own image appears, as Justice, to affirm the rectitude of his own self-judgment. Holi- ness encompasses the dispensation. The moment which saw man's crown fall, saw the radiance of Holiness at its highest. The act which made man feel his insufficiency calle4 forth a new display of the all-sufficiency of holiness. A new Perfec- tion, indeed, was about to arise in man's horizon. Mercy was on the wing ; but not until the rectitude of the Divine govern- ment was adequately illustrated, could " the fulness of time * for mercy have arrived. 351 SECOND PART. THE REASON OF THE METHOD. CHAPTER XIX. SECT. 1. That part of the reason which belongs to man's con- stitution, and involves his well-being. 1. ALL the preceding laws respect the method of the Divine procedure in relation to the constitution, the condition, and the destiny of man. The reason for this method is now to be con- sidered. In the original statement of the law relating to this reason, we saw ground to expect that the beings by whom the Divine manifestation is to be understood, appreciated, volunta- rily promoted, and enjoyed, must be constituted in harmony with the laws of the objective universe, or that these laws will be found to have been established in prospective harmony with the designed constitution and the destiny of the subjective mind which is to expound and to profit by them. According to our theory of the Divine manifestation, then, the reason will be two- fold, the first part being founded in the constitution of the creature by whom the method is to be studied, and involving his well-being ; and the second part relating to his destiny, and so involving, in addition, the glory of the Divine Creator. Having considered each of these in separate sections, we shall occupy a third section in applying both to the first man. 2. It must be obvious, that if man is to understand the sys- tem of created things into which he has come, it must be per- vaded by laws, or constructed according to a plan in harmony with his intellectual constitution. The part on which we are now entering assumes the existence of such a plan ; and the treatise on the Pre-adamite Earth was principally devoted to the proof and illustration of it. In the midst of a chaos " with- out form and void," man's mind itself would be chaotic. The subjective would reflect the objective. Darkness would be up- 352 MAN. on the face of his deep. If the outer world is to be read by him, there must " be light." The uniformities or laws in ques- tion were necessary, indeed, in order to the existence of the things themselves. A creation without law or plan is incon- ceivable. And hence, for antecedent periods immeasurable, such a law-pervaded creation had existed for the attainment, immediately, of organic and sentient ends alone. But on the eve of man's arrival, the uniformities of Nature were recalled from their temporary derangement, in order to the attainment of additional and loftier ends. 3. A school was to be prepared for man's education ; and the great lessons of creation were re-set. Hence the new reason for the laws of succession, dependence, and order, without which man would possess his powers of observation in vain, and crea- tion would be only and truly " a fortuitous concourse of atoms ;" and for that law of all-connecting relationship, without which, induction would be impossible, and inquiry would be constantly baffled and brought to a pause, but owing to which, man is con- stantly ascending to higher and wider generalizations, and an endless multitude of parts become a united whole ; and for those laws of progression and activity, by which history is made pos- sible ; and, in a word, for that law of analogy, without which he could not take even a first inductive step, for Nature would fur- nish him with no hint respecting the direction in w T hich he should proceed ; but by which he now possesses a clue for threading its most intricate labyrinths, and may find himself satisfactorily ris- ing from physical science to natural theology, and thence to the domain of Revelation. So that in appointing the actual laws or uniformities of the inorganic world, God was only saying, in effect. Let the objective conditions of astronomy, physics, and chemistry exist. In appointing the uniformities of organized bodies, He was providing the objective conditions of botany in its various branches. And in arranging the uniformities of sen- tient being, the external conditions of animal physiology, classi- fication, and the different branches oJ scientific zoology, were provided. In other words, the Divine Creator was practically saying, Let all the objective conditions of these various sciences be ready, that when man, the destined minister and interpreter of Nature, shall come, the sciences themselves may be possible. 4. All beyond these objective conditions, then, man was to bring in his own constitution. These conditions, prior to his coining, were, scientifically considered, mere unmeaning uni- formities. They were laws only for the Divine Lawgiver REASON OP THE METHOD. 353 modes or rules according to which He governed and sustained Nature. If they are to be laws for man, his mind must, in so far, resemble the mind of the Lawgiver. They are to be manifestations of the law-working mind of the Deity to the law- conceiving mind of man. They only form the objective signs of the Divine meaning God's symbolic autograph to man ; all the subjective conditions for understanding the writing belonging to the mind addressed. Hence the reason for man's powers of observation, classification, and induction, without which all the uniformities of Nature would exist, as far as he is concerned, entirely in vain. These powers or properties of his mind are themselves uniformities, answering to those in external Nature; but with this immense difference, that man, the subject of them, is himself conscious of them as uniformities ; so that, to him, they become laws, governing his anticipations. But, by this very consciousness, a new world is opened to him the world of his own interpreting mind. He can not only understand external Nature ; he can also analyze and explore the mind with which he understands it. He, the understanding subject, can become an understood object. He can take his perceptions, thoughts, and conjectures, of yesterday, and place them before him tor examination, just as if they were phenomena belonging to the external world. Indeed, the creation of a second human mind, endowed with the power of imparting its thoughts, actu- ally adds a mental to his prior material world. Here, the very- laws of all-connecting relationship and analogy which he before recognized in the external world, are found to pervade, in a higher sense, the entire range of his mental phenomena ; for here they furnish their own illustration. Not one of them all could be absent without rendering the intellectual knowledge of himself impossible. Here, also, he finds the ideas of which the laws themselves are only the expression ideas of externality and number, of force and motion, of likeness and design. So that, in constituting the human mind, the Creator was saying, in effect, Let the subjective conditions of" science be added to the already existing objective conditions. While, in adding these subjective conditions, He was adding the materials of a science fundamental to all the rest the science of anthropology of man in the union of his spiritual and animal nature, or psy- chology and physiology. To the question, therefore, why man is constituted as he is : why he reaches the external world through a body, and reacts upon it and upon himself by a mind, and 30* 354 MAN. why he is conscious of both ? the first reply is. That art and science might be possible. 5. But science, strictly speaking, is not philosophy. It gives an account of things, but does not account for them. If, there- fore, the creation, including man, is to be known and appreciated by him as the product and manifestation of God, it must be characterized by other laws and properties than- those necessary for mere science, and man must possess a sensitive and emo- tional as well as an intellectual constitution. The province of science is to state, not to explain. Persons are apt to confound the mere multiplication and arrangement of phenomena with the explanation of them. Thus, according to M. Conite, gravitation, as the law which appears to bind together all phenomena, is henceforth to be regarded as their ultimate and sufficient expla- nation. But, so far from explaining them, it only aggregates and generalizes them. If the gravitation of the stone be a mystery, the discovery that the entire planet gravitates is not an expla- nation of the mystery, but an addition to it ; and the further discovery that the solar system gravitates, and gravitates in a calculable manner, is only a further enlargement of the wonder. Here is the all-connecting chain ; where is the power that made it, and the hand that sustains it ? What should we think of a pretended explanation of the structure of a steam-engine which assumed that it had sprung out of the earth like a tree, or which preserved a profound silence respecting the fact that it was made? Surely, then, no account of the universe, which keeps its origin out of sight, can be accepted as philosophy, without involving errors and evils proportioned to the supreme importance of the subject ! Accordingly, we have seen that it is covered with marks of contingency and dependence, and that man is so con- stituted as to infer from them an independent Creator. Were he destitute of the power of interpreting these marks aright, it would not be the means of manifesting God to him, but would only manifest itself, disclose its own properties, and partially proclaim its own nature. Instead of referring him to God, it would literally stand between him and the Creator, and would tend to enclose him in its own material mechanism. But he is constituted expressly to recognize them ; and hence it is only natural for him to inquire into the origin of things, and, on find- ing that nothing in the things themselves can account for it, it is further natural for him to refer their origin to God. For the same reason, man's constitution is stored with ulti- mate facts facts which admit of no self-explanation, but which REASON OP THE METHOD. 355 repose on truths beyond themselves. And hence, too, an ex- amination of his mind, brings these necessary truths to light His mind cannot act without them. They belong to its con- stitution. He finds himself presupposing them in every in- quiry. As a being who is himself capable of causing, design- ing, enjoying, and governing, he is set down in the midst of things caused and designed, as well as of gratifications, and laws, in order that he might find himself face to face with the proof's of another Being capable of acting on a scale indefinitely greater, and that he might refer all the power and wisdom, the goodness and the holiness manifested, to that other exalted Being. So that in constituting man, the Divine Creator was saying, in effect, Let philosophy be possible, the philosophy which ascends from signs to the things signified, from laws to the knowledge of the Lawgiver. To the question, therefore, why man is made to recognize the contingent, the ultimate, and the necessary ? the only reply is, in order that he might have a natural theology ; that he might find himself in a temple in which every object is symbolic of the Divine presence, and is ever inviting him to acts of grateful self-improving worship. 6. But, chiefly, if the Divine procedure is to be known and appreciated by man in such a manner as to provide for his self-development, a voluntary or self-controlling power must be added to his intellectual and sensitive constitution. Such a power we have seen that he possesses. We shall now see, not only that this is the grand peculiarity of man's nature, but that it involves conditions accounting for much which is commonly deemed mysterious in the Divine arrangements both of the human constitution, and of the universe at large. As he is an intellectual being, he is in a school with all the means of self- tuition at his disposal. As he is a being intellectual and emo- tional, his school becomes a temple, in which objects innumera- ble compete for his admiration and regard. But as he is, in ad- dition, a voluntary being, both the school and the temple become a government, in which every part of his nature is under law. He is a moral being whose every property and power is on pro- bation, and every part of the system into which he has come is arranged in relation to it. 7. Elsewhere we have seen that man, as an organized being, and his planetary habitation, are specially adapted to each other. So that if the question were asked why the strength of his bones, the power of his muscles, and the resistance of liis blood-vessels are as they are, neither specifically greater nor 356 MAN. loss, the answer is because he was not meant to inhabit Jupiter or Mercury, but the Earth. In a similar manner, if he is voluntarily to " till the ground," the cultivable nature of the soil must bear some proportion to his means of subduing and rendering it fertile. If those means are reduced below a cer- tain point, he will abandon the attempt in despair ; if they are increased, or made unnecessary, beyond a certain point, the requisite incitements to effort will be wanting. So that if it be asked, why it is that the earth does not supersede man's labor by spontaneous fertility, the inquirer might be referred to those parts of the inhabited globe where this condition is most nearly realized, for a reply. " The finer the climate and the fewer man's wants, the more, generally speaking, he sinks towards the condition of the lower animals." " The heart is hardest in the softest climes; the passions flourish, the affec- tions die." If the organic world is to be the means, not of depressing, but of developing, his nature, it must exhibit neither a bewildering irregularity on the one hand, nor a tame and un- instructive sameness on the other. Accordingly it is so consti- tuted that, without either forcing its lessons, or dispensing with attention, it invites observation, and rewards well-directed dili- gence of every kind and degree. For the same reason, the world of sentient being is so made as to exhibit a medium be- tween a disheartening depth and diversity on the one hand, and a dull unexciting superficiality on the other. The result of the former extreme would be, that the volume of nature would never be opened ; and the result of the latter, that it would be shut almost as soon as opened. But constituted as it is, its laws are neither so obscure as to defy his diligence, nor so obvious as to force themselves on his involuntary notice. Its objects are so formed as to call him to activity, and to give him lessons on self-government ; its secrets so hid as to invite his discovery, and to correct his pre-judgments ; and its events so intimately and universally related as to reveal to his attentive eye the fact, that all nature is united in a close net-work of mutual connec- tions and dependence. And, on the same account, the labyrinth of man's own nature, considered as an object of study, must not be so accessible as to cost him no effort, or it will yield him no interest ; neither must it be inextricably entangled by exceptional circumstances, or it will defy his utmost diligence and application. In the for- mer case, he could not be said to learn ; and in the latter, his constitution could not be said to teach. But, formed as he is, REASON OF THE METHOD. 357 the law of analogy alone becomes in his hand a clue with which, if he will, he may thread the most labyrinthine recesses of his con- sciousness, and emerge to find that he is an integral part of a law-pervaded scheme of Divine manifestation. 8. From these very general remarks on the objective condi- tions of the method, let us consider more particularly some of its subjective conditions, and their inevitable consequences. "We begin with man's sensational perceptions. Now, bearing in mind his voluntary and moral nature, it is obvious that there is a sense in which his sensible impressions must be optional, and in which this option must be bounded by limits. Accordingly, while he cannot choose what impressions he shall receive from certain objects and in certain circumstances, he can determine, to an extent amounting to freedom, whether or not he will place himself in a given relation to such objects. But the enjoyment of this power brings with it liabilities without number. Pro- perly speaking, indeed, there are no fallacies of the senses what- ever ; their laws are fixed. But man may rashly make them the occasion of erroneous inferences ; or may confound the tes timony of his acquired with that of his natural perceptions ; or may draw his conclusions in ignorance of the physical laws which are involved; or, while his organs of sense are disor- dered. These are Keid's four divisions of the so-called falla- cies of the senses.* So also our perception, as given in con- sciousness, testifies to the existence of an external world. But in his admirable dissertation already referred to, Sir "VV. Ham- ilton lias shown that " five great variations from truth and na- ture may be conceived ; and all of these have actually found their advocates according as the testimony of consciousness, in the fact of perception, is wholly, or is partially, rejected : " f nihilism ; or the absolute identity of mind and matter whence pantheism ; or idealism the object educed from the subject ; or materialism the subject educed from the object ; or a hypo- thetical realism which rejects the testimony of consciousness to our knowledge of an external world, yet inconsistently affirms the existence of that world : while, from these general views, other more special divisions branch off in various directions. The creative i\i\{^Let there be light, made a world of shadows possible ; and the creation of a voluntary being such as man, capable and conscious of sensational perceptions, made possible a state in which he might either wander and lose himself amidst * Essay, ii. c. 22. t Page 748 358 MAN. a world of shadows of his own casting, or in which he might emerge and live in the light of truth. 9. As a being capable of attaining conviction on evidence, he finds himself surrounded by objects soliciting attention, and in- viting to certain conclusions. But, for the same reason that there is any evidence at all, that evidence must be supplied only in " weight and measure." Its strength is felt, not necessarily, but according to the degree of attention given to it ; but atten- tion itself is a voluntary power. It has laws ; but just as the objects of nature do not present themselves drawn up in rank and file, but await his classification, so he is left to evolve the very laws on which all his generalizations are to proceed. But even this power, "in the light of which dwell dominion and the power of prophecy," exposes him to numerous sources of error. He is liable to the scepticism which arises feom overlooking the facts that proof, as a process, is not universally necessary nor possible ; * that different subjects require different kinds of evi- dence ; that all evidence, not demonstrative, admits of degrees ; that the convincing power of all such evidence depends materi- ally on the state of the mind ; that the right order of examining the claims of a system is to look first at its proofs, not at the objections to it ; and that there is a substantial sense in which the belief of all moral truth is voluntary. And thus every increase of power involves a proportionate increase of liability. 10. If man is to reason, his mind must be constituted to re- ceive certain propositions without proof; otherwise his reason- ing would be a chain suspended from nothing. But even these primary and self-evident truths, by the possession of which he is made a sharer of Divine knowledge, must not proclaim them- selves so as to prejudice his responsible freedom. That they are really present to his mind is clear from the amount of truth which he has already excogitated, and is ever increasing. That their development and application are optional is equally clear ; for experience has shown that they render him liable to make his own mind the measure of the universe ; to confound the difficult with the impossible, and the impossible with that of which it is merely difficult to conceive ; to become impatient of obser- vation and experiment, " building a world upon hypothesis," and rendering a Novum Organum necessary, in order to recall him from the region of conjecture ; to idealize the universe, and even to consider all reasoning respecting his ideas impossible. * He that thinks all things to be demonstrable takes away demonstra- tion itself. Prod, in Tima, p. 176, fol. REASON OF THE METHOD. 359 11. Imagination, by giving wings to the mind, enables it to rise from the present and the actual, and to seek the invisible and the possible. Falling short of its proper activity, it leaves the mind to gravitate to the centre when it should be soaring to the circumference, ignorant of its heirship to a boundless em- pire. On the other hand, if that activity be unrestrained, the actual and the urgent no longer counterpoise the distant and the unreal. Everything is measured by imaginary standards, and viewed through painted media. Man inhabits a phantom universe. Science may be retarded for ages by the Pythago- rean doctrine of perfect numbers. Life may be wasted in lis- tening for an inaudible strain the fancied music of the spheres. Even an Aristotle may teach that the celestial motions are regu- lated by laws proper to themselves ; till at length the heavens may present to the eye of the mind " cycle on epicycle orb on orb " an inexplicable enigma of circles. " The world (says Plato) is God's epistle to mankind ; " but men, taxing their in- ventive powers, may come to conjecture the contents of the Divine autograph, instead of opening and diligently reading it. In actual life, the beautiful may come to be divorced from the true and the good. Instead of laboring to improve the actual and the present, men may come to sigh for a rainbow home which recedes or dissolves as they advance to reach it. Or the sense of the beautiful may even come to be torn down in the temple of the soul, and be replaced by the worship of myths and monsters, compared with which the signs of the zodiac may be divine realities. But if the addition of this power brings with it all these liabilities, how important, we might have thought, that it should be restrained within certain limits. That power of restraint exists, but it is lodged with man himself. And forcibly to interfere with it, would justly empower him to com- plain that, while held responsible as a free agent, he was yet coerced as a machine. 12. Language, by covering the entire range of thought and feeling, more than doubles the liabilities, intellectual and moral, of the human being. As the representative of the mind, language must, on the one hand, have laws corresponding to the laws of thought. But, on the other, these laws, like those of thought, must not be mechanically inviolable ; otherwise, the freedom of the mind itself, is, to that extent, destroyed. The consequence of this freedom, however, is the following four-fold possibility ; first, the inaccurate and inadequate representation of the thing signified j hence falsehood, in its various degrees, the employ- 860 MAN. ment of vague and ambiguous terms, and the literal use of metaphorical language. Secondly, the identification of names with things, hence realism the belief in the independent and separate existence of whatever has a separate name. Indeed, the Greeks had but one name (logos) for both reason and speech. Words triumphed over facts. As if every name were a sun- drawn picture of the object to which it referred a photograph of nature they studied physics in terms, and not in things. Language became a wall between them and the realities of nature. Thirdly, the tyranny of words over the mind. " Men believe (says Bacon) that their reason governs their words ; but it often happens that words have power enough to react upon reason." The consequence is, that the sign survives the depar- ture of the thing signified ; the names of false conceptions act as incantations, recalling their spectral forms long after the conceptions themselves have been exploded; and language, having once embodied a doctrine, tends to give it permanence quite irrespective of its truth or error. Fourthly, the different conceptions which the speaker and the hearer may have asso- ciated with the same word ; hence, the possibility of receiving false impressions instead of true, as well as of endless verbal disputes. 13. Looks, tones, tears, gestures parts of the great economy of natural language by increasing man's power for good, pro- portionally increase his power for evil. The fountain which supplies the tear of pity may supply the tear of hypocrisy also. And who would exchange the muscular play and sunlight of the human countenance for the immovable rigidity of a statue, because the same muscles can convert the features into a living mask ? As a being strangely compounded of matter and mind, and living at a point where two worlds meet, man can view everything in a ludicrous, as well as in a solemn light. The power of a smile involves the power of a sneer. And the laughter which shakes down an old temple of superstition, and ridicules out of existence a folly proof against reasoning, may be employed also to intimidate truth, and to put virtue out of countenance. 14. Man's emotional susceptibilities are essential to his prac- tical appreciation of the objects around him. As such, they stand between his intellectual acts and his volitions following the former, preceding and influencing the latter. His responsible liberty requires, however, that while his emotions are necessarily determined by his mental perceptions, these perceptions them- REASON OF THE METHOD. 361 selves should be, indirectly, at least, voluntary. But this momentous addition to man's constitution may give occasion to the following evils : by unduly depreciating its distinct functions, and confounding it, as Hobbes did, with perception itself, virtuous feelings may be considered nothing more than just reasonings, and evil passions may pass for mistaken judgments, and schools of philosophy be formed prejudicial to the interests of morality. By unduly exalting the function of the emotions, reason itself may be depreciated, and schools of musing mysticism be warmed into existence. While by the false relation to the intellect, which the emotions may come to sustain, either in defect or excess, all those thronging errors and evils may ensue which Bacon has classed under the idola or images of the tribe, the den, the market-place, and the theatre. 15. The relation of the emotions to the will brings us into the moral domain of man's nature. Here, as we have seen, he is open to a four-fold influence. All the objects around him appeal either to his appetites, his self-love, his benevolent affections, or to his sense of duty, in its highest form of love to God. Here, then, are four great problems to be solved, each of them requiring a complicated balancing of influence, com- pared with which the nicely-adjusted play of forces in the phy- sical world is only an emblem of simplicity and ease. As man is a creature of instincts and appetites, the great question to be solved relates to the reconciliation of his material and his spiritual nature. There was a period in the progress of creation when the problem had yet to be solved, how matter could be reconciled with motion, and how the centripetal force of the planet could be reconciled with the centrifugal. How can the laws of inorganic matter be made to consist with the assimilating power of life ? How can a material organ be made the occasion of pleasurable sensation? But all the more difficult parts of these problems are now included in the more profound adjustment of the animal and the rational, the ma- terial and the spiritual, in the constitution of free responsible man. The question is not, how may the spiritual escape absorption from the natural ? nor the converse ; but how may the two be adjusted in harmonious and responsible co-existence? Now, assuming the constitution of man, it is evident that there must have been limits assigned to all the created objects which ap- peal to it as to their number, form, and sensible properties, their accessibleness, the combinations of which they admit, and 31 362 MAN. the purposes to which they may be applied. Or, assuming the constitution of nature, it is equally clear that there must have been limits assigned to man's susceptibilities of impression from it, and to his powers over it. It is easy to conceive of such a change in man's organization as should render him insensible to the appeals of external objects, and annoyed by the calls of animal appetite. Every voice from without would only whis- per timidly from the dust ; while the voice of reason should thunder, and his consciousness be written over with the great truths of his spiritual nature in characters of fire. But this would make virtue impossible, for there would be nothing to resist. Rather, virtue would then consist in the cultivation of the appetites, and the development of the passions. On the other hand, if his animal incitements are to be such as to afford him the occasion of self-improvement, they may also prove the means of his self-degradation. What if the sensuous should come to predominate over the spiritual ? The forms of mate- rialism might come to be " the grand idolatry, by which, in all times, the true worship, that of the Invisible, will be polluted and withstood." Every object might then be valued only as it ministered to the gratification of the passions. Nature itself might come to be employed as a great storehouse of animal stimulants. The methods of self-indulgence be reduced to a fin- ished and costly science ; rewards be offered for the invention of a new pleasure ; and man be distinguished from the brute chiefly by his greater sensuous capacity. 16. As a being capable of self-love, or of a regard for his well-being on the whole, a new difficulty arises that of bal- ancing the present with the future. Besides the problem of reconciling one part of his constitution with another, there is now the additional task of harmonizing the claim of every passing period of life with that of existence on the whole. These two claimants might be easily brought into antagonism. The urgencies and attractions of the present are liable to blind him to the demands of the future : How many present wants shall he have ? how pressing shall they be ? how varied in kind and degree ? and of what increase shall they admit ? On the contrary, the stupendous prospects of the future may cause him to forget even that there is a present, or may entirely incapacitate him for its duties. How high shall the solemn veil be raised ? how far shall he be able to project his thoughts within ? and what objects shall there meet his view ? These opposite questions have been so answered in man's con- REASON OP THE METHOD. 363 stitution as to give him the power of practically reconciling them together. But this very power implies the responsible liberty of placing the two in conflict ; in which case, present victory, on either side, is ultimate defeat. 17. The motives implied in the social affections present new and additional difficulties. How can man's well-being as an indi- vidual be made to consist with the free activity of other individ- uals ? " Man stands in the midst of the external world, and the most important element in that which surrounds him, is his con- tact with those who resemble him in their nature and their des- tiny. Now, if free beings are to exist in such, contact, side by side, mutually aiding, and not obstructing one another in their development, this only becomes possible by our recognizing an invisible boundary, within which the existence and the activity of every individual must have a sure and undisturbed territory. The rule by which that boundary, and, consequently, this un- disturbed territory, is determined, is Law. Therewith, at the same time, is also ascertained the relationship and the difference between law and morality. Law assists morality, not by exe- cuting her commands, but by securing the free development of the moral power which dwells in every individual's will." But why is not a list of all right actions inscribed on the human heart, and the conscience made an infallible index of all good feelings, and the hand withered, and the eye and the tongue re- strained, at the very commencement of every offence by some admonitory pain ? Because man is a moral being, and not a machine, and is capable of becoming a law unto himself. But, then, the freedom which this state implies, leaves him open to at least a fourfold possibility. His social laws, customs, and manners, may be at variance with morality ; or the laws them- selves, being in harmony with right, he may yet violate them ; or, mistaking the province of law, he may attempt to carry its jurisdiction where it can neither define nor command ; or, in that wide sphere beyond the domain of human law, and where a thousand influences of speech, affection, friendship, and exam- ple are always in full play, he may either spend life in aiming to subordinate them to himself, or else may surrender himself to be absorbed by them. 18. Still profounder is the problem which asks for solution in the religious sphere ; where a sense of duty, accompanied by unlimited sanctions, is to be made compatible with the presence and activity of other and inferior motives. How can the iniinite coexist with the finite, and yet leave it free ? How can inferior 364 MAN. excellence exist in the presence of infinite perfection, so as to make itself be felt ? Or how can the mind be left free to ap- preciate it ? The compelled, or necessary admiration of any excellence, besides being a thing inconceivable, would be alike unacceptable and useless. And yet the very conditions which leave the creature voluntary in this particular, expose him to the most alarming possibilities. His moral freedom requires that the period of the earth's origin should be hid in a dateless antiquity ; but from this circumstance he may take occasion to leap to the irrational conclusion that it is eternal, and un- created. Because, for the same reason, the successive creative stages of the ancient earth are not so obtrusively marked and palpable as to compel the judgment to a right conclusion, he may proceed to the length of denying the existence of an in- visible Agent. Although owing his primary origination to miracle to an exercise of power unknown to the present course of nature he may come to be so enamored of the uni- formities of nature as to deny the possibility of a miraculous change. From the fact that the few sequences in the chain of cause and effect which he sees are regular and stable, he may come unphilosophically to infer that all the rest of the chain is iron also, and even the Hand that holds it; that because the lit- tle visible is fixed, no appeal can be responded to from the infi- nite Invisible. If man's free agency is not to be overborne by the visible display of immediate Divine operation ; if the evi- dence of Creative agency is to be enough to convince, but not so much as to overwhelm, the attainment of this balance will in- volve relations and adjustments of infinitely diversified compli- cation, and will form, in truth, the grand sphere for the exercise of creative wisdom and goodness ; and yet man may come to employ this very freedom in questioning the existence of the agency which alone makes it possible ! Without it, there could be no reasoning no man ; with it, there may be, for him, no God. In other words, he may allow himself to be so beset by the present and the limited, as even to deny the existence of the Infinite Being. Or, admitting the existence of God, he may not recognize in Him the Creator and Governor of all things, denying his own accountability and dependence. Or, admitting the existence and providence of God, he may be so engrossed by the signs and exponents of excellence, as never to rise to the contemplation of the Divine Reality, nor even to inquire after Him. He may love every object but God ; and thus every action of his life, however consonant with natural REASON OP THE METHOD. 865 law, may be performed without any reference whatever to the authority of the supreme Will, and to the excellence which should commend it. Or else, professing to admit the exist- ence, providence, and perfections of God, he may live for pur- poses which keep all these out of his sight, and which place him in constant collision with the Divine will. In these va- rious respects he may fail to subserve the great end of his ex- istence. 19. From these remarks it will be seen not only that every part of the man is exposed, within its own sphere, to certain liabilities, but that his greatest danger consists in the power which he possesses, as a free being, of developing one part of his constitution into an ascendency over the rest, and of practi- cally detaching it from them. As an intellectual being, he may exaggerate the importance of the senses, regarding them as the sole sources of his knowledge, and may thus land in a system of Materialism. Or, concentrating his attention on the world of mind, he may be so dazzled by the light of reason as to look on the external world as nothing more than its reflection ; and thus adopt Idealism. Or, looking away from both the external and the internal, he may add imagination to reason, and soar on its wings to the great source of both, and lose himself in a sys- tem of all-absorbing Pantheism. Thus nature, man, or God, may become his idol, according as he surrenders himself chiefly to a particular faculty. Or, dissatisfied with the essential con- tradictions of these systems, and relying on the critical powers of the understanding alone, he may surrender himself to Scep- ticism. Or, wearied with efforts which have only brought him to the verge of a yawning gulf, he may add emotion to thought, and may watch the stirrings of his own bosom, till every move- ment there becomes an inspiration, and every whisper an ora- cle ; and thus he ends in Mysticism. 20. Emotion may be developed and indulged without regard either to the thought that should precede, or to the activity which should follow it. In the former instance, approbation be- comes partiality ; aversion, prejudice ; and the mind believes beyond the warrant of evidence. In the latter, it lives in an element of dramatic excitement, " with feelings all too delicate for use," and " sighs for wretchedness, but shuns the wretched." Sensibility may prompt man to weep over the friend whom his passions have led him to ruin. Taste, which is discriminating sensibility, may call for creations of artistic beauty, and engage him in its intense worship ; but so little has such refinement to 31* 366 MAN. do with morality, that, as the history of the Greeks shows, the intervals of the service may be given to the most odious vices of human nature. The same taste may be kindled to enthu- siasm by the contemplation of virtue a feeling often mistaken for piety ; but it is the element of order, beauty, or sublimity, which is admired ; and so distinct is the object of this aesthetical emotion from the moral quality which conscience recognizes and approves, that man, while loud in the praises of the former, may be daily doing violence to the latter. 21. As an active being, man's belief is designed to influence his conduct. But so separable are the two, that he may be indefinitely better or worse than his self-taught creed. If his passions predominate, they will impart to his speculations an epicurean cast; or, like Mahometariism, they may take the most ennobling and exalting faith the doctrine of immortality itself and mingle with it the poison of debasing sensuality. If his self-love be nursed into selfishness, it will degenerate into the thousand forms of personal utilitarianism, and put a price on the virtues. His social affections, if disproportion- ately developed, sink the claims of the individual in a system of communism, and shut out from his view the Object of su- preme regard. His sense of duty, if cultivated by doing vio- lence to his appetites -and affections, produces a stoic by sacri- ficing a man. 22. According, then, to the erroneous views which men have entertained respecting the -relation of the human will to the Di- vine, they may be generalized into two classes those who en- deavor to escape from the liabilities of freedom, and those who affect to deny or to enlarge its limits. Perhaps we should say, according to their spirit rather than their views, for the gene- ralization includes those who have never thought or reasoned on the subject, however decidedly they may have felt and act- ed. Even the views themselves may be regarded as the ex- pression of that spirit as " the forms assumed by antagonist principles in human nature." If it be true, as it has been said, that every man is born either a Platonist or an Aristotelian, it is because of the prior truth, that every man has a practical preference either for liberty or necessity. This preference in- vades every region of thought, feeling, and action. Ascending to the loftiest pinnacle of thought, it finds Being itself distin- guishable into substance and cause substance and its proper- ties, cause and its effects. And as the sacred historian tells us of the river that " went out of Eden to water the garden," that REASON OF THE METHOD. 367 " from thence it was parted, and became into four heads," so, from Edenic times, this river of thought has divided and flowed through the world, separating into schools and parties the population who have lived and even fought on its banks. Giv- ing the preference to Substance, as implying certain fixed and necessary properties, we arrive at a system of pantheism which denies freedom and personality to God himself, and identifies Him with the universe : giving the preference to Cause, as self- determining, creative, contingent activity, we may regard matter itself as consisting of forces and activities, and arrive at a system of polytheism. Reasoning from God to man, the advocate of Substance becomes an extreme necessarian, regarding his char- acter and destiny as fixed : the advocate of Cause becomes an extreme libertarian, regarding his conduct as exempt from Di- vine supervision. 23. But apart from all speculative views on the great prob- lem, the spirit of the former is ever striving blindly and unconsciously it may be, as to its ultimate tendencies to diminish the liabilities attendant on freedom, in every possible way. It seeks to escape the dangers of reasoning, by asking for a logic which shall infallibly conduct it to truth. On the same account, partly, " method (remarks Bacon), carrying a show of total and perfect knowledge, hath a tendency to generate acqui- escence." In religious practice, it aims to escape from danger, partly, by recasting the human constitution by bodily infliction, celibacy, and the extinction of the social affections, and partly by recasting the world immuring itself in monastic seclusion, and surrounding itself with a single class of objects, as if the evasion of trial were equivalent to the conquest of danger. While, in religious doctrine, it relies on the supposed infallibility either of an internal monitor, or of a church, or of a sacred volume whose inspiration is imagined to be such as to supersede the necessity of a painstaking discrimination, or anxious individual thought- fulness. On the other hand, the spirit of the latter is ever confounding liberty with lawlessness. It aims to enlarge the scope of freedom, by regarding difficulty as a dispensation from duty ; and mystery, from belief; and by removing Providence beyond the circle of human affairs. It supposes that it has suf- ficiently vindicated the dignity of man, by withholding its homage from every object loftier than man himself. Not less than the former spirit does it seek to remodel the world by artificial cre- ations of its own. While both agree, though in very different 368 MAN. respects, in evincing a degree of self-sufficiency at direct vari- ance with man's dependent position. 24. Thus every part of man's nature, jointly and severally, is on probation. So, also, is every period of his life. The world of infancy is one entirely of sense : a little circle filled exclu- sively with tastes and scents, with sounds and colors, and forms, and motions. Even this first horizon of the human being fills and enlarges around it very gradually. Intellect, emotion, con- science, each as it comes into activity, finds its appropriate class of objects waiting to appeal to it, and to put it on trial. But as childhood rises into youth, and youth emerges into manhood, the human being may be said to inhabit a series of worlds, each in its turn preparing him for the next in succession. Each stage of life has its own facility for forming habits. Each period re- quires its own amount of evidence to induce belief; but the man himself is always in the Divine balances while weighing evi- dence in his own. " Probability is the guide of life ;" but that which constitutes probability in youth, is held to be uncertainty in riper years, and, in each stage, furnishes a test of character. 25. To the question, then, Why is man thus nicely poised between the too much and the too little ? we reply, Because he is made capable of maintaining his balance, and of augmenting his strength by the effort. It is a necessary condition of his freedom. His well-being requires it. He would be justified in complaining, were it otherwise. For how else is he to know either his powers, or their limits ? Mere information- on the subject would not suffice. For this would leave all the emotional, voluntary, and moral part of his nature, waste and useless. Be- sides, the case supposes that the information is believed ; but the belief of a rational being must be based on evidence, and the examination of evidence, by involving an exercise of will and disposition, brings us back again to the idea of probation. Nei- ther would a higher position for man in the scale of creation meet the supposed difficulty. Let his powers of intuition be increased to any conceivable extent, they could not exceed the conditions of his nature ; in other words, they could not be unlimited, and against these larger limits the same supposed difficulty would still press. Besides which, natural endow- ments, being the gift of the Creator, are " neither the virtue nor the effect of the virtue of the being possessing them," and, consequently, they place him in no relation either to praise or blame. In order to this, he must employ them. As an agent capable of right action, he must act rightly. The moral powers REASON OP THE METHOD. 369 with which he is invested become his only by use and appli- cation. 26. The trial, then, to which every part of the human being is subjected, is itself the means of knowledge, and may be the means of virtue. And how else is this knowledge to be acquired, unless by making men as gods, enabling them to understand without experience ? But this we have seen to be an impossible condition. Man can make nothing his own, except by experience. " It is a maxim of the schoolmen, that contrariorum eadem est .scientia : we never really know what a thing is unless we are also able to give a sufficient account of its opposite." He that knows nothing in science has no doubts. The mind is made to know its own state in and by its acts alone. " Even as in geo- metrical reasoning, the mind knows its constructive faculty in the act of constructing, and contemplates the act in the product, so our actions are the means by which alone the v will becomes assured of its own state ;" our efforts are the means by which we ascertain to ourselves both our powers and their limits. 27. All, therefore, that man, as an accountable being, can justly require is, not that he should be exempted from trial, for this would rob him of the means of self-improvement, but that his trials and his powers should be adjusted to each other. Accordingly, he finds himself in a system in which the two are so balanced, that the matter which he has to employ is mixed, but separable ; the earth which he has to till, though barren, is cultivable ; the animals which he requires, though wild, are domesticable. The materials on which his art is to be occupied, though hard, are workable; and though shapeless, formable. The objects around him, though confused and infinitely varied, admit of classification ; however beautiful, they are imitable ; however distant, measurable. The laws, on the constancy of which he has to rely, however recondite, are provable ; the tes- timony demanding his faith, however variable, is ascertainable ; and the true, though unseen, is inferable. The excellence of every kind to which he is called to aspire, however difficult, is attainable ; which is only saying that all the trials which lie in his way, however formidable, are vincible. In every step of the process, if successful, he is finding himself, making himself, im- proving himself; realizing the Divine design of what Jie should be. The comparative ease of the probation acquaints him with his powers ; its comparative difficulty makes him sensible of their limits. 28. If the further question be put, Why are man's powers 370 MAN. and their limits to be ascertained to him only as the results of experience ? the reply is, That he might be made aware of his moral freedom, and of his dependence, and so answer the ultimate end of his existence. The extent of his powers is the measure of his obligation ; and the ascertainment of their limits is the discovery of his dependence. Men do not like, indeed, to look: