m8 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Date Due 1959 KU Cornell University Library arV1138 The law of love and love as a law: or Ch 3 1924 0-'^i 1Q.'^ 41^1^ olir ,anx "^BP ' The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 1 93455 THE LAW OF LOVE AJJTD LOYE AS A LAW; OB, CHRISTIAN ETHICS. WITH AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING STRICTURES BY DB. McCOSH. WITH REPLIES. BT MARK HOPKINS, D. D., LL. D, PBBSIDUNT OF WILLIAMS COLLEOB. SBVEHTH EDITION. NEW YORK: SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, AND CO., SnCCXSSOBS TO CaABLES SCKIBNER Am) CO. 1874. Bntered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1870, by Mare Hopkins, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at^Wafihingtont /)-?5'6G3{:) BIVKBSIDX, OAMBRtDGZ: •IimiOTTPEB AND PRINTED BT u. u. hov<3htOn and Company. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. In publishing a third edition of the following work, some notice of the discussions to which it has given rise seems called for. In these it has ap- parently been forgotten by many how entirely the work is an exposition of that cardinal precept of Christian philosophy, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself." As imperative there is in that precept Law ; and the one thing required by that law is Love. This gives us " The Law of Love," and that law practically carried out gives us " Love as a Law." With this the doctrine of ends as stated in the "Lectures on Moral Science" is coincident, since the end of love, so far as there is choice in it, and so morality, must be the good of the person loved. But while the cardinal precept of Christian phi- losophy is as stated above, that of the prevalent philosophy is, " Do right for the sake of the right." Are these identical ? If so, those that hold to the doctrine of an ultimate right may spare their attacks, for I am substantially agreed with them. IV PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. If not, it is for them to reconcile their acceptance of the precept with their acceptance of Christianity as a philosophy. What we need is a Christian philosophy. Not that philosophy is to be received on the basis of revelation. To be philosophy it must be received on the basis of reason. But if a revela'tion really from God teach or imply a phi- losophy, it must coincide with that taught by reason, and ought to be seen thus to coincide. If Christen- dom is ever to be a fair exponent of Christianity, its Moral Philosophy must be that of Christianity. We need also a philosophy in which the practical shall be drawn from the theoretical part, so that they shall not stand, as in most of our treatises, like the two sides of the Yosemite Valley, with a deep gulf between them. If, as Dr. Wayland says in the opening of his " Practical Ethics," the whole Moral Law is contained in the single word " Love," it would seem self-evident that the theoretical part, the philosophy, must consist of an exposition of Law and Love as they are in themselves, and as related to each other. Such an exposition Dr. Wayland did not attempt, nor can it be successfully at- tempted by any one of his school, or of the school of Right, except as it shall be shown that the two precepts above given are identical. That those precepts can be made identical I do not believe. To me they seem to differ both in PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. V their sphere and object. The sphere of the one is choice, and its object good. To choose the good of beings capable of good disinterestedly, and as valuable in itself, is the love required. Here tlie sphere is choice without volition or outward action, and the obligation to choose thus is affirmed in view of good as valuable in itself, with no intervention of the idea of right as distinguished from that of obligation. The sphere of the other is volition and outward action, and its object is right, or the right. As commonly defined, and in its only intelligible sense, right is the quality of an action. This makes the right to be an abstraction, a mere intellection, as it is acknowledged to be, which can become a motive to action only as an element is " surrep- titiously " borrowed from the sensibility to combine with it and make it obligation. But if the two precepts can be made identical in their material, the whole form and pressure of a system of duty will be different, as the one or the other shall be made prominent. The Ptolemaic and Copernican systems differ, not in material, but in what they made central ; and yet the transition from the one to the other was one of the great steps of progress. And so it is here. Let love be made central, so that in testing actions men shall be compelled to inquire whether they proceed from love, and the moral heavens would come into order 71 PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. as a system, and order in society would be the result. The idea of right I accept. I believe in it as obligatory from its relation to good. As thus re- lated and so only, it loses that affinity for fanaticism so conspicuous in its history, and which has made religious wars and persecutions more virulent and cruel than any others. The persecuting Sauls and assassinating Balthazars of all ages have " verily thought that they ought to do " what they have done ; and the step now needed is to preclude, as far as possible, such mistakes by making good and love central, and " The Law of Love " the test of right. We also need, in practical morals, to see the guidance which Love may find from the distinction between the susceptibilities and the powers, and from the whole constitution of nature and of man, through the unifying relation of conditioning and conditioned forces and faculties, and the Law of Limitation based on that. Whoever will be at the pains to trace this out, will, I hope, find a system consistent with itself, and in harmony with nature on the one hand, and with the Scriptures on the other. For the readier apprehension of the system which involves the step above mentioned, I ask attention to the following propositions, which contain its principal points. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. vii 1. Moral philosophy regards man only as choos- ing and acting from choice. 2. Moral action is rational, as distinguished from instinctive action. 3. Rational action implies a recognized end. 4. There can be no conception of an end as a ground of rational action except through a sensi- bility. 6. The end which man ought to choose is indi- cated by his moral nature, which affirms obligation to choose it ; but it is in his power to reject it. 6. This end is the good of all beings capable of good, his own included. 7. .This good has value in itself, absolute value, which makes it the object of rational choice for its own sake. 8. The choice of this good as the supreme end is the Love required by the Law ; and hence, in Love known as Law, wisdom and virtue are identified. As obedience to moral law it is virtue ; as the choice of good it is wisdom. 9. When an act of choice alone is required with- out volition or tlie use of means, as in love or good- willing, obligation is affirmed at once without the intervention of the idea of right, and with no place for it unless it be regarded as synonymous with obligation. 10. The choice of good being thus virtue, action Vlll PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. from this choice is virtuous action. The good tree makes the fruit good. 11. Action that would naturally tend to promote this good is right action, and is obligatory from this tendency. 12. The rejection of the end indicated by the moral nature, and any form of choice incompatible with that end is lawlessness and wickedness. 13. We have thus Law, and the philosophy of it. But in early life, as preliminary to these, and in- tended to be auxiliary afterwards, we have moral instincts, the action of which is often mistaken for that of conscience, but which may conflict with each other, and which need control, like the other instinctive and impulsive parts of our frame. Identifying, as above, wisdom and virtue in Love known as Law, we find a ground of harmony between teleological and intuitive systems. It has not been suflBciently observed that the moral im- perative, in which I believe fully, the affirmation of obligation to love, can be legitimately given forth only in the apprehension of that very good which wisdom would choose for its own sake. This im- perative is not the product of will. It is not, therefore, as the advocates of the theory of right persistently assert, a part of virtue. It is no more a part of virtue than it is of vice, since there could be neither without it. It is the voice of our moral PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. is nature made possible and rational by the rational apprehension of good, and can become Law only as that good is the good of all beings capable of good, or, at least, is compatible with that. In this view of it, that " Goodness of Will " of which Kant speaks as " the one absolute good," is not a good at all. It is goodness — goodness because it is the choice of good, and without the idea of that the very idea of goodness had not been possible. It is to be added that if the good be disinter- estedly chosen, the fact that it is a good can never make the system utilitarian. That the system is one of Love, the very Love commanded and made Law by God, would, it might have been supposed, be a bar to the charge of utilitarianism. Love cannot be utilitarian. It has been objected that the theoretical part of the following work is difficult. From the above it will be seen that the system itself is not so, and I must ask that the distinction be made between that and the attempt to trace its connection with mental science. To do that is difficult, and must be, especially in so brief a compass, and to those not familiar with mental science. The work might doubtless have been better done. Perhaps it was not wise to attempt it, but without that the science cannot be complete. In the present edition mistakes have been X PREFACE TO THE TfflRD EDITION. corrected ; the first chapter has been rewritten, and some changes to prevent misapprehension, chiefly with reference to the words " end " and " force," have been made. An Appendix is also added, con- taining the discussion between Dr. McCosh and myself, as published in the New York '' Observer." To insert this was not my suggestion, but I assent to it in the hope that it may elucidate the subject more fully. Dr. McGosh also assents to it, and, I doubt not, for the same reason. Parts of the cor- respondence might be omitted, but it would be difficult to make changes, and, if given at all, I am told it would be more satisfactory, if not more fair, to reproduce it in its original form. Williams College, June, 1870 PREFACE. If we accept the principles of classification adopted in the following work, the position of Moral Science as compared with other sciences is either superior or central. It is superior to those sciences, as intellectual philosophy, which are con- ditional for it ; and central for those, as the science of government, which are but an application of its principles. It is from this position of the science, together with its unsettled condition, that I have been led of late to devote to its advancement the little time I could spare from my more immediate and pressing duties. That some advancement has been made I am encouraged to hope from the favorable reception of the " Lectures on Moral Science " published by me five years since. In those " Lectures," morality was made rational, both as based on ends and as involving intuitions ; the difierent kinds of ends and of good were distinguished ; the relation of Xll PREFACE. will to ultimate ends was shown ; the law of lim- itation was established ; the faculties were classified from their relation to ends ; and firom that relation, and from their relation to each other, it was shown that the highest end of the whole man was the same with that made known by revelation. (This point, if established, is of the utmost moment, as render- mg religious skepticism rationally impossible.) The relation of virtue to happiness and also to worldly good was shown, and of rights to right. As the above points were, for the most part, either new in themselves, or put in new relations, and may not have been always expressed in the best way, it is not strange that they failed to be rightly apprehended by some critics who read the work, as well as by some who certainly did not. Nor is it, perhaps, strange that some who hold strenuously, and as a part of their theological ortho- doxy, that it enters into the " chief end of man " to enjoy God, should have counted the same doctrine an alarming philosophical heresy. In the following work the above doctrines are implied, for further reflection has but confirmed me in them ; but of some of them a fuller exposition is demanded, new points require to be stated, and the principles need to be applied in a practical part. PREFACE. xiii In addition to the above, or if not in each case strictly in addition, yet as requiring ftiUer statement, some of the points which may be thought to justify the publication of another work are the following : — 1. The making of obligation the moral idea with no necessary intervention of the idea of right, obU- gation to choose the supreme end* and good being immediately affirmed on the apprehension of it, thus placing the primary seat of obhgation in generic choice without volition, and as distinguished from it. 2. The fact that a Sensibility is a condition for the formation of moral ideas. This was implied in the former work, but not so distinctly stated, because I had not then given the attention they deserve to the very able lectures on this subject of President Finney in his volume on " Systematic Theology," in which this doctrine was, so far as I know, fully stated for the first time. 3. The distinction between the two forms of spon- taneous activity. This had been made by Dr. Hickock. 4. The coalescence of the idea of individual and of the general good in the one idea of good on which the law of conscience is based. 5. The separation of the idea of obligation from XIV PREFACE. authority. This had been done by President Fin- ney, Dr. Hickok, and others. 6. The distinction between conscience as an im- pulse and as a law. 7. The mode in which love includes all other duties. 8. The finding' of a basis for the reconciliation, not of any two opposing systems, but of two classes of systems that have always been opposed. It is quite time this should be done, as it certainly will be at some time, both in Mental and in Moral Science. 9. The bringing into unity of physical, mental, and moral science through the law of the condition- ing and conditioned, and the law of limitation based upon that. 10. A classification of duties new as respects its basis ; and the application of the law of limitation to the practical part. 11. A fuller recognition of the difference be- tween the powers and the susceptibilities, and of the contrasted laws of our fi-ame by which we receive and give. 12. The doctrine of rights as related to ends. This was seen by Whewell, but not fully applied. 13. The relation of both rights and ends to the just powers of government. PREFACE. XV 14. The derivation of the right to punish from the violation of rights. 15. The natural right of man to the Sabbath. Other points might be mentioned. How far any of these are absolutely new I do not know, nor is it important ; but the system, taken as a whole, seems to me so far new as to justify its publication. When the former work was published it was sup- posed that the doctrine of ends had not before been made thus prominent in a moral system. That is still supposed ; but a legal friend has called my at- tention to a work on " The Civil Law in its Natural Order," by Jean Domat, a French lawyer, in which the course of thought is often strikingly similar to that in the " Lectures." His work was published in Paris in 1674, and repubhshed in this country by Little & Brown, so recently as 1853. If ends hold the place in a Moral System assigned them in the " Lectures," it is obvious they must hold a similar place in the Civil Law, and this was seen and stated with great clearness by Domat. As the " Lectures," which were published as a work of original investigation, have been used as a text-book in several of our colleges and seminaries, it is thought best, though the present work is of the same general character, to have seme reference to XVI PREFACE. that in its structure and arrangement. To combine the qualities of a good text-book with original inves- tigation is not easy. In some respects, and for some classes, the processes of original investigation well stated are better than anything else. In other respects, and for other classes, they are not desira- ble. On this point each teacher must judge for himself, and the work will find its place according to its merit and adaptation. As far as possible technical and obscure terms have been avoided, and it is hoped the system has been made too plain to be misapprehended. The substance of the following work was deliv- ered the last winter in a course of lectures before the Lowell Institute. In the delivery of them much use was made of the blackboard, whenever ideas were to be traced back to their source, or principles were to be carried out to their residts. This was an experiment, but the results were such as to assure me that the blackboard may be made use of with much advantage in illustrating this and kindred subjects before . popular audiences, as well as before college classes. It only remains that I express my obligations to the friends who have aided me in this work by their suggestions. Among these I would particularly PREFACE. xvii mention my early and constant friend, Dr. John Morgan, of Oberlin, to whom I am greatly indebted ; also Dr. Ray Palmer of New York ; and on the sub- ject of suffrage. Judge C. 0. Nott, of the Court of Claims, WashingtCxi. Williams Colleoe, S^ptenbtir, 1868. CONTENTS. 1 INTRODUCTION. rAoi DiffiiTent Theoriu .1 MORAL SCIENCE. Definitions and Pieliminarjr Statements 29 PART I. THE LAW OF love: THEORETICAL MOBALB. DIVISION I. OF LAW. CHAPTER I. Of Law in Gteneial 84 CHAPTER II. Obligation; Moral Ideas : Conditions and Oharacteristics . . 36 CHAPTER HI. Obligation: Freedom a Condition 44 CHAPTER IT. Obligation; an End a Condition 47 CHAPTER V. OUigation; a Good as a Condition . .... 51 XX CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Obligation: Two Forms of Spontaneous Action . • .59 CHAPTER VU. Obligation: Personality a Condition 63 CHAPTER VIU. Obligation : Necessarily Affirmed 69 CHAPTER IX. Obligation: Paley: Obligation and Autbority .... 74 CHAPTER X. Ultimate Moral Ideas: Whewell: Theory of Eigbt ... 76 CHAPTER XI. Is tlie Affirmation of Obligation Law ? 85 CHAPTER XII. Conscience 90 DIVISION II. OP LOVE. CHAPTER I. Rational Love: its Characteristics and Sphere .... 99 CHAPTER n. Complacent Love and Righteous Indignntion .... 104 DIVISION m. THE LAW OF LOVE. CHAPTER I. How Lore becomes Law lOg CHAPTER U. The Relation of Lore to other Duties 110 CONTENTS. XXI CHAPTER in. FAOl BeooDcilUtion of Systems 114 CHAPTEE IV. Other Belations of the Sensibility to the Moral Nature . 119 PART n. LOVE AS A law: fractioai. uobals. Preliminaiy Statement 12S L Love as a Law distinguished from the Lav of Lore . . . 133 n. Classification of Duties 136 CLASS I. DUTIES TO OURSELVES. I. Olassiflcation 140 DIVISION L The Securing of our Rights 140 DIVISION II. The Supply of our Wants 142 DIVISION ni. Tha Perfecting of onr Powers . . .... 142 XXU CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Perfecfion as related to Direct Action for Others: of the Body of the Mind 143 CHAPTER II. Perfection as related to Unconscious Influence .... 156 CHAPTER III. Perfection as related to Complacency 158 CHAPTER IV. Perfection as related to the Glory of God ..... 160 CHAPTER V. Perfection as related to Self-Love . . ... 181 CHAPTER VI. Hahits 163 CLASS n. DUTIES TO OrR FELLOW MEN. PRELIMINARY. Self-Loye and the Love of Others .... . igs FIRST GREAT DIVISION. DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN. DIVISION I. DUTIES EEGAKDING THE RIGHTS OF OTHERS. CHAPTER I. OfMghtB 170 CONTENTS. xxiii CHAPTER n. rtSM Peraonal Bights: Life and Liberty 179 CHAPTER in. Right to Property 182 CHAPTER rV. Right to Reputation ..,.,.. , 195 CHAPTER V. Bight to Truth . . 199 DIVISION II. DUTIES REGARDING THE WANTS OP OTHERS. CHAPTER I. Justice and Benevolence 202 CHAPTER II. Supply of the Wants of Others 207 DIVISION IIL PERFECTING AND DIRECTING THE POWERS OP OTHERS. CHAPTER L Duty of Influence from the Relation of Character to Well-being. — Obstacles to Change of Intellectual State and of Chi^rac- acler ,211 CHAPTER II. Scores of Efibrt; Who may labor in them .... 221 XXIV CONTENTS. SECOND GREAT DIVISION. DUTIES FROM SPECIAI, RELATIONS. CHAPTER I. PA9I Bights of Persons: Bight and Bights: Special DutieB : The Family 223 CHAPTEE n. Goreniment: Besponsibility: Panishment 233 CHAPTER m. BeUtionof the Sexes: Chastity US CHAPTEB IV. Rights and Duties in Belation to Marriage . . . 349 CHAPTER V. The Law of Divorce 2S7 CHAPTER VI. Rights and Duties of Parents and Children .... 360 CHAPTER VII. Bociety and GoTenunent: The Sphere of Govemment: Origin of Government: Mode of Formation .... 268 CHAPTER VIII. BoTemment Representative and Instrumental: The Right of Sufirage 282 CHAPTER IX. Forms of Govemment: Duties of Magistrates and Citizens 397 CONTENTS. XXV CLASS in. DUTIES TO GOD. CHAPTER I. txet Outies to God defined 804 OHAPTEE U. Cultivation of a Devotional Spirit 308 CHAPTEB m. Prayer 814 CHAPTEB IV. Tlia Sabbath . . «a INTRODUCTION. DIFFERENT THEORIES. Morality regards man as active. Hence moral science must imply a systematic knowledge of those powers in man which tend to, or regulate action, as thos^ powers are related to each other, and to the objects that excite their action. These powers are related to each other as a system capable of harmonious action, and of securing through such action the highest good of the individual and of the whole. Into the conception of a system of active powers the idea of order, subordination, and of a supreme controlling power must enter ; and that action of such a system which would secure the highest good of the individual and of the whole is right action. Such action must be rational. It presupposes an end good in itself, and known to be good ; but it can be moral only as we have a moral nature affirming obligation to such action. Of the nature and foundation of moral obliga- tion which I suppose to be thus affirmed, differenl 2 INTRODUCTION. accounts have been given. This has arisen in part from the ambiguity of language, but more from a partial apprehension and wrong adjustment of the facts and principles of our complex nature. A striking fact, as of association, or a powerful princi- ple, as of self-love or sympathy, is seized upon and made to account for everything. It becomes the centre of a system having in it, perhaps, much that is plausible, and much truth in its details, but as a system wholly false. Such systems are not useless. They insure a careful examination of the facts made central ; the incidental truth involved, as in the treatise of Adam Smith, is often of much value ; and something is done in limiting and exhausting the possibilities of error. And not only are different systems produced from Different ^^® above causes, but the moral problem tSi'Tor^ "" ^*®^'f '^ differently stated. By some it is problem. made an inquiry concerning the moral nature; by some, concerning the nature of virtue; by some, concerning the source and nature of right ; by some, after an ultimate rule ; and by some, after the nature and foundation, or ground, of obliga- tion. This last I think preferable. In the fact of obligation all are agreed. All are agreed that all mankind are under obligation to do some acts and to abstain from others. Without obligation there can be no morality and no law, and a statement of the ground and conditions and limitations of obliga- tion, would be a statement of the theory of morals. INTRODUCTION. 3 As I propose to use the term, a ground of obli- gation for us must presuppose a moral nature in us ; and the question what that nature is, is entirely different from any that may respect the ultimate ground or reason for its activity. The nature and constitution of the eye are one thing, the nature and constitution of light, without which the function of the eye could not be performed are another. The eye and light are related to each other, and each is so indispensable to vision that either might be said to be at its f' andation. But the questions in optics respecting the eye, and those respecting light, are entirely distinct ; and if the powers of the eye were regarded by one man as the foundation of the faculty of sight, and if the properties of light were so I'egarded by another, and if, because they were using the same word, they were to go on under the delusion that they were treating of the same thing, it is easy to see the confusion that must ensue. In the same way the intellect, with its capacities and laws, is one thing, and truth, the object of the intellect, is another. These so imply each other that without truth the intellect could not act, and either might be said to be the founda- tion of mental activity. Here, also, there would be the same confusion if men were to mistake one for the other, or, without being aware of the transi- tion, were to apply the same terms to both. But this is precisely what has happened in specu lations on morals. Men have sometimes spoken of 4 INTRODUCTION. the Tarious faculties and powers involved in the moral nature, such as conscience and free will, aa lying at the foundation of obligation; sometimes they have spoken of that ultimate ground or reason in view of which alone the moral nature can legitimately act, and sometimes they have included both. The fact of this confusion is said by Sir James Mcintosh to have been a great, and indeed the main reason of the confusion there has been in the perplexed speculation" on the subject of morals. Speaking of the difference ^-'tween the " Theory of Moral Sentiment," and the " Criterion of Mo- rality," he says : " The discrimination has seldom been made by moral philosophers ; the difference between the two problems has never been uniform- ly observed by any of them ; and it will appear in the sequel, that they have been not rarely alto- gether confounded by very eminent men, to the destruction of all just conception and of all correct reasoning in this most important, and perhaps most difficult, of sciences." But this confusion will not surprise us if we ob- serve how the speculations on these different sub- jects imply and almost necessarily run into each other. If we would understand optics, we must understand both the eye and light, and that not merely as they are in themselves, but as they are related to each other. If we would understand moral science, we must understand both the facul- ties which act and that in view of which they act ; INTRODUCTION. 5 bnt we must be carefiil to keep our speculations on the one subject distinct from those on the other. If I say that self-interest is the ground of obliga- tion I mean that it is that in view of which obliga- tion is affirmed by a moral agent fully constituted. If, on the other hand, I say that free will is the ground of obligation, I do not mean that it is that in view of which obligation is affirmed, but that it is a power essential to a moral agent, a necessary condition of the affirmation of obligation by such an agent. If, again, it be said that self-interest is the ground of obhgation, and we would controvert that, we need to know what other possible grounds there may be ; if there may be what are called a prion grounds we must know that, and be able to state them, and this will involve the question of a priori knowledge and principles of action, and a decision of some of the highest and most disputed problems of mental science. Shall we then regard as the foundation of obliga- tion those faculties which are necessary ne ground to constitute us moral beings ; or that in JJaUn^iw view of which, we being thus constituted, obUpiUonU obligation is affirmed ? With given facul- **™^- ties I see a crow flying over my head. In view of that fact I feel no obligation. With the same faculties I see a man in danger of drowning. In view of that fact I do feel under obligation to aid him if I can. Here is a ground pf difference, and 6 INTRODUCTION. of obligation. What is that ground ? Is there any ground common to all cases ? Without questioning what others have done, and simply desiring distinct- ness, I prefer to call that the ground of obligation in view of which obligation is aflBrmed. In seeking for this, however, we shall necessarily be drawn into an examination of those faculties and mental products on which moral agency is conditioned, for it must be remembered that that in view of which obligation is afRrmed may itself, like the idea of right, be the product of mental agency. Moral philosophers have indeed been divided in- Dependsnce *° ^^^ classes, as they have belonged to on Septal °^^ "'' ^^^ Other of the two great schools loienoe. ^f mental science that have divided thinkers from the time of Plato and Aristotle — in reality, as they have settled in one way or another the great problem of the origin of knowledge. A sensationalist, believing that all our knowledge is from experience, that there are no necessary prin- ciples, or forms of knowledge given by the mind itself, can believe in no a priori principles of moral- ity, and will, almost of course, adopt a low, fluctu- ating, and selfish system of morals. But one who finds in the mind itself as well as in the senses a source of primitive knowledge, given indeed, not without the senses, but on the occasion of them, may consistently, and will naturally, look to the same sourcefor the principles, or elements, or prim- itive facts, or ultimate ideas, or ground, or founda- INTRODUCTION. 7 tion, or whatever he may please to call it, of morals. Hence, the great battle of scientific morality is to be fought on the field of mental science. On this field some, as those who so make the mind the product of organization as to bring it under the laws of matter and of necessity, and all, indeed, who deny the fact of liberty, so decide mental problems as to make morality impossible. Others necessitate a basis of self-interest, or of mere sentiment, while others still so solve these problems as to admit, in some form, of what may be called a rational system. Nor, I may remark in passing, need it discourage those who have not studied mental science formally, that moral problems strike their roots so deeply into that, for on this class of subjects sound judgment is native to the common mind. It is even true that where accurate statement is most difficult, intuition is most certain, and when such statements are maoc they commend themselves with great readiness to the common consciousness. ^ With this view of the ground of obligation and of the connection of mental with moral varioue science, we pass to consider some of the '^'■^^^■ systems respecting obligation and its ground which have been adopted by different philosophers. ^ Of these the first commonly mentioned, as it was the first in point of time among modern pijst theory; systems, is that of Hobbes. By him the ''°'''^' ground of obligation was found in the authority of 8 INTRODUCTION. the Civil Law. According to Hobbes, a regard to personal advantage is the only possible motive to human action. "Acknowledgment of power is called honor." " Pity is the imagination of future calamity to ourselves." " Laughter is occasioned by sudden glory in our eminence, or in comparison with the infirmity of others." " Love is a concep- tion of his need of the one person desired." " Re- pentance is regret at having missed the way." There are no social affections, no sense of duty, no moral sentiments. As a desire for his own pleasure is supreme in every man, it will follow that the state of society is naturally one of war. But as nothing can so interfere with this supreme desire or end of man as war, it becomes obligatory on men to com- bine, by an expression of their common will in the form of law, for the preservation of peace : and as there is no other possible standard, it follows that men must be bound by the behests of law, whatever they may be. A system resting on a view of our nature so low and partial, and thus favorable to arbitrary power, was not fitted for permanence among a free people, and had nearly passed from remembrance, except in the schools, when an attempt was made to revive it in connection with the enforcement of the fugitive slave law. This attempt gave rise to the expression so prevalent for a time, of " the higher law ; " and it really seemed at one time that we had a party among us who denied the existence of any such law. INTRODUCTION. 9 Of this system it has been well said, that it must either be right to obey the law and wrong to dis- obey it, or indifferent whether we obey it or not. If it be morally indifferent whether we obey it or not, the law which may or may not be obeyed with equal virtue cannot be a source of virtue ; and if it be right to obey it, the very supposition that it is right implies a notion of right and wrong that is antecedent to the law, and gives it its moral effi- cacy. A second theory of obligation is that it is based on self-interest. Second the- Much might be said to show that this interost. was the system of Paley, whose work was formerly taught almost universally, both in England and in this country. Many things in his book are consis- tent with this theory only, while others would seem to imply that of general utility. Probably he did not discriminate sharply between them. This system supposes the same low and imperfect view of the facts of our nature as is impUed in the preceding one. It faUs to show the distinction between interest and duty, or why all actions that are for our interest, as a good bargain, are not vir- tuous. It ignores or denies the fact of disinterested affection, contradicting thus the general conscious- ness which attributes merit to actions in proportion as self is forgotten. As that which is the founda- tion of obligation should be supreme in our regard, this system would require us to regard self-interest 10 INTRODUCTION*. supremely, and everything else as subordinate to that. It would thus be wrong to love God su- premely and our neighbor as ourselves ; and in- deed any high, or noble, or generous act would, according to this system, be either impossible or wrong. The plausibility of this system arises from the fact that self-interest has its place in one that is correct ; and also from the fact that men exalt self- interest so unduly, and do so generally make it practically the centre of their thoughts and actions. A third system founds obligation on utility. The Third syB- assertiou is, not only that we are under utiuty. obligation to do those things that are use- ful, but that their useftilness is the ground of the obligation. To set aside this view it is only necessary to understand the meaning of terms. By a ground of obligation we mean the ultimate reason in view of which it is affirmed. But by its very definition utility cannot be ultimate. " Some things," says Sir William Hamilton, " are valuable, finally, or for themselves — these are ends; other things are valuable, not on their own account, but as condu- cive towards certain ulterior ends — these are means. The value of ends is absolute ; the value of means is relative. Absolute value is properly called a good ; relative value is properly called a utility." Whatever is useful, then, can have value only as it is related to the end which it may be INTRODUCTION. U used to promote. A plough is useful, but only aa it is related to the value of a crop. Unless there be ends that have value in themselves, means can have no value, and so nothing can be useftil. But no one will contend that we can be under obligation to choose that as an ultimate and supreme end which can have no value except as it is related to an end beyond itself. The plausibility of this system is from the fact that we are so often under obligation to choose that which is useful, and from a failure, in doing this, to distinguish the ground from a condition of obliga- tion. The absolute value of an end may be the ground of obligation to choose it, but we can be under obligation to choose means only on condition that they shall be useful in attaining the end. Of course a system which should place obligation to choose an end on the ground of an intrinsic value that should have no end beyond itself, and so no utility, could not properly be charged with being a system of utility. The word utility expresses a relation — a relation between that which is valuable in itself and the means of obtaining it. A fourth system, ^""J^. that of Dr. Wayland, bases obligation on wayiand. the relations of one being to another. " It is," says he, " manifest to every one that we all stand in various and dissimilar relations to all the sentient beings, created and uncreated, with which we are acquainted. Among our relations to created beings 12 raTBODTOTION. are those of man to man, or that of substantial equal- ity,of parent and child, of benefactor and recipient, of husband and wife, of brother and brother, citizen and citizen, citizen and magistrate, and a thousand others. Now it seems to me that as soon as a human being comprehends the relation in which two human beings stand to each other, there arises in his mind a consciousness of moral obligation, connected by our Creator with the very conception of the relation." Here it will be observed that no enumeration of the relations on which obligation depends is at- tempted. Some are specified, and there are said to be " a thousand others." Nor is any attempt made to show what is common to all these relations in virtue of which they are the ground of obligation. Relations as such cannot be the ground of obliga- tion. Why must these relations be between sensi- tive beings? Why are not all relations between sensitive beings, as those of time and space, the ground of obligation ? The relative height of two men, as tall and short, constitutes a relation, but not a ground of obhgation. In themselves relations have no value, and aside from the beings related they cannot exist. They cannot be made objects of choice or grounds of action. There is in them nothing ultimate. They are simply the occasion or condition of our apprehending a ground of obliga- tion that lies wholly beyond themselves. It is true that whatever we do we must do in some relation, INTRODUCTION. 18 and this gives the system its plausibility ; but this incidental connection of relations with grounds of action that lie beyond them can never make them an adequate basis for a moral system. Analogous to this system of relations are two others — those of Dr. Samuel Clarke and pitthanj of Wollaston. Of these the first founds tcnis;'»r. obligation on the fitness of things ; and the woiiaaton. second on conformity to truth, or to the true nature of things. A man owes a debt. It is according to the fitness of things that he should pay it, and that fitness is the ground of the obligation. It is true that there is a difference between a man and a tree, and on the ground of this difference there is an obligation to treat them differently. Not to do so would be acting a lie, and so, according to Wol- laston, all immorality is an acted lie. Of these systems it is to be said that both fitness and truth, as that is here used, express, not any- thing ultimate, but only a relation. Between the fact of the debt and its payment there is a fitness, but it is not on the ground of its fitness that the payment is to be made. The fitness has no value in itself, and could exist only as the debt has value in some relation to an ulterior good. If there were no good of any kind to be gained by the payment of the debt — no satisfaction of any sentiment — there would be no fitness in paying it. So of truth. It is true that there is a difference between a man and a tree, and that they are to be treated 14 INTRODUCTION. differently, not however on the ground of the twith, which has value only for what it indicates beyond itself, bxit because a man is capable of a rational good and a tree is not. It is to be said, also, that both fitness and truth are terms quite too broad to be used accurately as the basis of a system, since there is a large class of fitnesses and of truths that have no relation to morals. To use a pen for writing is according to the fitness of things, and is a practical affirmation of the truth that the pen was made for that, but there may be in it nothing moral. Besides, there is as much fitness in an immoral act to produce evil as there is in a moral act to produce good, and it is as much according to the true nature of things that it should produce evil. It cannot, therefore, be either the fitness or the truth on which the ob- ligation depends. The plausibility of these systems is from the fact that all obligatory acts are in accordance both with the fitness and with the true nature of things, though these are not the foundation of the obliga- tion to do them. Another system of the same class is that of Seventh Jouffi-ov, which makes order the basis of system; , , , ^ ^ jouflroy obligation. This was mentioned by me in my former volume, and I have nothing to add to what was then said. Order may be affirmed of mere physical being, in which there can be nothing moral. It expresses a relation, and nothing ultimate. INTRODUCTION. 15 It can never be chosen for its own sake. Beings may place themselves in order for the sake of an end beyond, but not for the order itself. At least, such order cannot be obligatory. It would be ab- surd for an army to preserve the order of its march if that would insure its destruction. The order of an army is for its safety and efficiency, and can be obligatory on no other ground. The same princi- ple applies in all cases of order. It can never be so valuable as to become obligatory, except as sub- servient to an end beyond itself. From several passages in Jouffroy it would appear that he identified the order of the universe with its end. Doing this, we can readily see how he might have adopted the system, but to do it is simply an abuse of terms. Order cannot be the end of the " universe. That must be some good of the beings that compose the universe, which may or may not be attained by means of order. According to an eighth system, the will of God is the ground of obligation. We are, it Eighth sya- • 11 IT ? , , temiTrtll IS said, under obugation to do whatever of Goa. He commands, simply because He commands it. Philosophically this is the same doctrine as that of Hobbes, who referred everything to the will of the lawgiver, or of the law-making power, regarded simply as will, and accompanied by power. The question is, whether the will of any being, regarded simply as will and without reference to the ends chosen, can be the ground of obligation. • It is true 16 INTRODUCTION. tliat the will of God is an infallible rule, and that we are to do unhesitatingly whatever He com- mands. It is true, also, that this can be said of no other will, whether of an individual or of any num- ber of individuals however organized. It is this fact, that the will of God is to be always and im- plicitly obeyed, that gives the system now in ques- tion its plausibility. But are we to obey his will simplj' because it is his will ? or from faith, that is,, because we have adequate ground for implicit con- fidence in Him that his will will always be deter- mined by wisdom and goodness ? It is precisely here that faith comes in. God commands that for which we can see no good i-eason except that He commands it. He may even command that which, aside from his will, shall seem opposed to all our apprehensions of what is right and best. This ren- ders faith possible, and furnishes it with a distinct field for its conflicts and triumphs. But if his will, simply as will, be the ground of obligation, then faith is impossible, and that great bond and actu- ating principle of the social universe is annihilated. On this supposition all the acts of God would be equally right by a natural necessity, and the appeal of Abraham to God, " Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ? " was absurd. Again, there is nothing ultimate in will whether regarded as choice or as volition. In either case we distinguish between the act and the object. The act is for the sake of the object, and can nevei be an end or object of choice for itself. INTRODUCTION. 17 Once more, on this supposition moral science is im- possible. Science supposes uniformity and grounds of certainty. These may be found in those grounds of action which ought to influence a free being, but never in the acts of such a being. The ground of our confidence that a free being will pursue a given course must be faith, and not science. This system has been strangely adopted under the impression that it honors God. It renders it impossible that He should be honored. The next system we shall consider is that of those who say that right is the foundation of Ninth eys- obligation. According to this, we are to do '™ ' "*''''■ right for the sake of the right. This is, perhaps, the prevalent theory at the present time. On the face of it, nothing could seem simpler than this theory ; but the ambiguities of the word right have produced confusion. If we take right as an adjective expressing the quality of an action, and opposed to wrong, it is obvious that it cannot be the ground of obligation, because it expresses nothing ultimate, but only a relation. Used thus, the only conceivable meaning of the word right is either con- formity to a standard or rule, or fitness to attain an end. So it is commonly used by moralists. "Right," says Paley, " means no more than conformity to the rule we go by, whatever that may be." " The adjective right," says Whewell, " means conform- able to a rule." He who solves a sum according to 18 INTRODUCTION. a rule does it right. In this sense simple Tightness does not even involve a moral quality, and so cannot be the foundation of obligation. "Whence then comes the moral quality ? Here is a right act that has no moral quality. Here is another morally right. Whence the difference ? This can be only from something in the rule, or standard, or end that lies beyond the act ; and if the moral quality come from one or the other of these, the obligation must also. But whatever may be the origin of the moral quality in an action morally right, it is plain that the quality of an action can never be the ground oi an obligation to do that action. Look at this. A man does a wrong action ^ he steals. He does not do this for the sake of the quality of the act»on — its wrongness ; but for the end that lies beyond the action. A man does a right action ; he gives money in charity. He does not do this for the sake of the rightness of the action, but to reheve a case of dis- tress. If he were to do it for the sake of the right- ness of the act, the act would not be right. Think of a man's doing good to another, not from good will, but for the sake of the rightness of his own act. Think of his loving God for the same reason ! Cer- tainly, if we regard right as the quality of an action, no man can be under obligation to do an act morally right for which there is not a reason besides its being right,, and on the ground of which it is right. That reason, then, whatever it may be, and not the rightness, must be the ground of the obligation. INTRODUCTION. 19 But are we not under obligation to do what ia morally right? Certainly, always. So are we always under ohligation to do what is according to the fitness of things, and the truth of things, and the will of God ; but these are not the ground of the obligation, and the quality of right in an action neither is, nor can be, the ground of the obligation to do it. Is there, then, in morals a right which is not the quality of an action ? Yes ; a man has rights. He has a right to life and liberty. Here the word right is used as a substantive, and means a just claim. This we understand, and the ground of it will be investigated hereafter, but it has no relation to our present subject. Is there still another sense of the word right? This is claimed, and in this too it is used as a sub- stantive, and with the article prefixed — "the right." Can we here, as before, gain definite notions ? I fear not. " The term right," says Dr. Haven, in his excellent and popular work, — and he represents a large class of writers, — " expresses a simple and ultimate idea ; it is therefore incapable of analysis and definition." " It expresses an eternal and immutable distinction, inherent in the nature of things." And not only right, but wrong is also such an idea, for he says, " Bight and wrong are distinctions immutable and inherent in the nature of things. They are not the creations of expediency nor of law ; nor yet do they originate in the divine 20 INTRODUCTION. character. They have no origin. They are eter- nal as the throne of Deity ; they are immutable as God himself. Nay, were God himself to change, these distinctions would change not. Omnipotence has no power over them, whether to create or to destroy. Law does not make them, but they make law. They are the source and spring of all law and all obligation." ^ I am of those who believe that there are simple and ultimate ideas. That of existence, or being, is one. All men have, and must have an idea of something, of themselves, as existing. Here we have the idea, and something actual which corre- sponds to it ; and I understand what is meant when it is said that existence, being, — not the idea, but the thing, — had no origin, and that it may be the source of law. Is then the idea of right such an idea ? Is there anything corresponding to the idea, but different from it, that has existed from eternity ? Is it like space, of which we might plausibly say that it existed independently of God and of all creatures, so that if they were withdrawn the eternal right would still exist? Is this true also of wrong ? If so, we might well, as some do, put right above God, and wrong too. This seems to be claimed, but cannot be, for we are told that " right and wrong are distinctions," not things, but " dis- tinctions immutable and inherent in the nature of things." But what things ? We are told again, t Moral Philosophy, p. 47. INTRODUCTION 21 " When we speak of things and the nature of things, as applicable to this discussion, we do not of course refer to material objects, nor yet to spiritual intelli- gences, but to the actions and moral conduct of intel- ligent beings, created or uncreated, finite or in- finite." Here, then, we have moral action which is eternal and has no origin ; for if the distinctions be eternal, inhering in the nature of things, the things themselves in which they inhere must also be eternal. But further, if these eternal distinctions inhere in these eternal actions, what is this but to make them qualities of the actions, which, as we have already shown, would preclude the possibility of their being the ground of obligation to do the actions. We have also distinctions in moral actions — actions, observe, already moral, — which are " the spring of all law and all obligation." But is this what the author really means ? Probably not, for he immediately adds, " We mean to say, that such and such acts of an intelligent voluntary agent, whoever he may be, are, in their very nature, right or wrong." This is quite different from the proposi- tions with which we have been dealing. It simply amounts to saying that certain acts, not eternal, but such as you and I maj-- do, are right or wrong, and that no reason can be given for it, except that they are so. Now I believe, and that, I suppose, is the real difference between us, the point on which this whole question turns, that when an action is right or wrong a reason can always be gi ren why it is so, 22 IXTKODUCTION. and that in that reason the ground of the obligation is to be found. We are never to do, or to intend to do right for the sake of the right, but we are to intend to do that, the doing of which is right, for the sake of that which makes it right. The analogy is often insisted on, it is by Dr. Haven, between mathematical and moral ideas. Mathematical ideas and truths, it is said, are neces- sary and eternal. But how ? Is it meant that either ideas or truths can exist except in some mind? Is it meant that mathematical ideas are any more eternal in the divine mind than any other ideas that are there ? Is anything more meant than that, by the very nature of intelligence it is necessitated, if it act at all as intelligence, to form certain ideas, and also to assent to certain proposi- tions as soon as it understands them ? If this be all, and it could be so understood, it would sweep away much vague, not to say unintelligible phrase- ology. Certainly it enters into our conception of an intelligent being that he must have certain ideas, and into our conception of a moral being that he must have a knowledge of moral distinctions ; and if we suppose an intelligent and moral being to have existed eternally, we must also suppose, according to our inadequate mode of thinking on subjects invol- ving the infinite, that certain intellectual and moral ideas have also been eternal, though in the order of nature the being must have been before the ideas. But this does not make these ideas in any sense in- INTRODUCTION. 23 dependent of God, or above him, or a fountain of law, or of anything else. It simply enables us to think of God as having always existed, and as hav- ing always had within himself the conditions of in- telligent, moral, and independent activity, so that he might himself, in his own intelligence and wis- dom, become the fountain of all law. When, as in the present case, the existence of a simple and ultimate idea is claimed, the appeal must be directly to consciousness. On this ground one may assert, and another deny ; and there is nothing more to be said. Neither argument nor testimony can avail anything. We can only so appeal to the general consciousness by applying tests as to show what that consciousness really is. This system will be referred to again. It is plausible, because every action that is obligatory is also right, as it is also fit, and according to the divine will. ~^-^ The only other system of which I shall speak is that of Dr. Hickok. According to him a reason can be given why a thing is right. " The highest good,'' he says — and in this I agree with him — " must be the ground in which the ultimate rule shall reveal itself." This is a great point gained. It concedes that right is dependent upon good of some kind, that is, that a reason can always be given why a thing is right ; and it only remains to inquire what that good is. But here, if I understand him rightly, I am still compelled to differ from my able and highly 24 INTRODUCTION. esteemed cotemporarj'. That good we are told is " the highest good," " the summum honum." What then is that? Says Dr. Hickok, "The highest good, the summum bonum, is worthiness of spiritual approbation." By this, it would seem, must be meant worthiness of approbation on the ground of the acts, or states, of our own spirits. The doctrine then will be, that the ultimate ground or reason why a man should do a charitable act is not at all the good of the person relieved for the sake of that good, but that he may preserve or place his spirit in such a state as shall be worthy of his own approba- tion. This is stated most explicitly. " Solely," says Dr. Hickok, " that I may stand in my own sight as worthy of my own spiritual approbation, is the one motive which can influence to pure moral- ity, and in the complete control of which is the essence of all virtue." ^ To those aware of the endless disputes of the ancients respecting '' the summum bonum," further progress may seem hopeless if we must first decide what that is ; but it will be sufficient for our present purpose if we decide the province within which it is. By " the summum bonum " is generally meant the greatest good of the individual. That, it would seem, must be meant here, because worthiness of approbation can belong only to the individual, and can be directly sought by the individual only for himself. But if this be meant, then the " summum honum," and the end for which man was madei are 1 Moral Science, p. 60. INTRODUCTION. 25 not the same. Man was not made to find the ulti- mate ground of his action in any subjective state of liis own, of whatever kind. He was made to pro- mote the good of others as well as his own, and the apprehension of that good furnishes an immediate ground of obligation to promote it. The good of the individual is too narrow a basis to be the ground of obligation ; and besides, it is not in accordance with our consciousness to say, when we are laboring for the good of others, that the ultimate and real thing we are seeking is our own worthiness of approbation. But again, the man is worthy of approbation only as he is virtuous. It is virtue in him that we approve. But virtue is a voluntary state of mind, and that can never be chosen as an ultimate end. By necessity all choice and volition respect an end beyond themselves. But the ground of obligation, as we now seek it, is that ultimate end in view of which the will should act. As ultimate, the reason of the choice must be in the thing chosen, and not in the choosing. It is therefore impossible that any form, or quality, or characteristic of choice, any virtue, or goodness, or holiness should be the ground of obligation to choose. The same thing is to be said of law in every form, and for the same reason. Law can never be ultimate. In this case, as in most of the others, a rule may be drawn from that which is assumed as the ground of obligation, because no man can be under obliga- 26 INTRODUCTION. tion to do anything that is not in accordance with his highest worthiness. This may be a criterion or test, just as the will of God or fitness is, of what he ought to do, but never a ground of the obligation to do it. Is it asked, then, what is your own system ? It is imphed in the opening remarks of the chapter, is very simple, and can be stated in few words. In seeking the foundation of obligation, I suppose moral beings to exist. As having intelligence and sensibility I suppose them capable of apprehending ends good in themselves, and an end thus good that is both ultimate and supreme. In the apprehension of such an end I suppose the moral reason must affirm obligation to choose it, and that all acts that will, of their own nature, lead to the attainment of this end, are right. This puts man, as having reason, into relation to his end in the same way that the brutes, as having instinct, are put into relation to their end, and gives us a philosophy in accord with other philosophies of practical life. What is the philosophy of the eye ? It consists in a knowledge of its structure and use, or end ; and from these, and these only, can rational rules be drawn for the right use of the eye when well, or for its treatment when diseased. Knowing these, we know how we ovight to use the eye. We know the ground of our obligation in reference to it. It is so to use it that the end of the eye may be most perfectly attained. So we ought to use the INTRODUCTION. 27 eye, and the ground of our obligation is the fact that the eye has relation to an end that has value in itself. If it had not, we could be under no such obligation. The same is true of every part of the body, and of every faculty of the mind. And if true of these, why not of the man himself? Has he an end valuable for its own sake ? If not, what is he good for ? But if he have such an end, why not, as in case of the eye, find in this end the reason of all use of himself, that is, of all rules of conduct, and also the ground of obligation ? Can there be anything higher or better than that a man should propose to himself and choose the attainment or advancement of the very end for which God made him ? What more can God ask of him — • or man ? What more can he wish for himself? MORAL SCIENCE. DEFINITIONS AND PBELIMINART STATEMENTS. " Moral Philosophy, or ethics, is that science which teaches men their duty, and the reasons of it." This is Paley's definition ; and no better has since been given. Moral Philosophy may also be defined as the science which teaches men their supreme end, and how to attain it. It is thus both theoretical and practical. As theoretical, it explains the ground of obligation. As practical, it teaches what we ought to do. As distinguished from Natural Science, which teaches what is. Moral Science teaches what ought to be. All questions under Theoretical Morals may be resolved by an exposition of THE LAW OF LOVE. And all questions under Practical Morals may be resolved by an exposition of LOVE AS A LAW. 30 MORAL SCIENCE. Hence, the following treatise will be simply an exposition of these two expressions. In analyzing the Law of Love, the order of in- vestigation pursued in the " Lectures on Moral Science " will be reversed. In those, we started with an examination of the constitution of man in the light of ends, and found the Law of Love, thus identifying the law of the constitution with the revealed law of God. In this law, as reqiuring the highest activity of the highest powers upon their appropriate object, we identified the formula for virtue with that for happiness. We found a law in the keeping of which there is, and must be, the great reward. This Law of Love thus found we now assume, and seek its characteristics and conditions, or prerequisites. PART I. THE LAW OF LOVE. THEOBETICAL MOBALS. DIVISION I. OF LAW. ♦ CHAPTER I. OP LAW IN GENERAL. The term Law is used in two senses : as it is applied to things or to persons. As applied to things, it is sometimes used to ex- press a uniform fact, — as when it is said ^^^ „, to be a law that heavy bodies unsup- ''^*'' ported, fall. It is also used to express the rule in accordance with which the force acts that causes a uniform fact, — as when it is said that the force of gravity is directly as the quantity of matter, and inversely as the square of the distance. As thus applied, the characteristics of law are uni- formity, and, so far as the human will is concerned, necessity. This kind of law we have in what are called the laws of nature. The term is applied wherever there is uniformity of being through force, or of force itself, with no direct evidence of the intervention of will. For law in this sense, the conditional ideas will be : 1. Being. 2. Force. 3. Uniformity. And 4, as I think, an end. 3 84 MORAL SCIENCE. Of Law, as thus understood, there are several VMieUesin Varieties: as physical, vital, mental, in "^^ each of which there is a force uniformly directed to an end. Up to a certain point, the mind is as much subject to law in this sense as is matter. These laws, or rather the uniformities which are their exponent, are at the basis of expe- rience, are the condition of education, and of that intelligent activity by which means are adapted to ends. As applied to persons, law is either Civil or Law of per- Moral. Civil Law has for its object the """■ control of the outward actions of men, so far as they relate to the rights of others. As affecting the will it reaches only volitions. Moral Law has for its object the control of the will itself in that which is central, — its prefer- ences and choices. This is its great peculiarity. It lays its commands upon allowed preferences and choices, and upon them alone. As doing this, it is spiritual. It designates what is to be done ; but, as no means can be used, it neither does nor can des- ignate how it is to be done. It is thus Law, and not a rule. Volitions, outward acts, rules, may or may not follow. The moral act is completed in the choice, and the character of the act is determined by the end chosen. Of Moral Law the conditional ideas are : 1. Be- ing conscious and rational. 2. Free will. 3. An end, which can be known as such only as there is in it a good ; and 4, Obligation. OF LAW m GENERAL. 35 Between law as applied to things and to persons, the differences are radical. Under law as applied to things, the subject doe not understand the law, knows nothing of ... Difference. its end, is incapable of choosing it, and is under no obligation to choose it. It is passive, and its movements are necessitated. It is only in an improper sense, or figuratively, that uniform facts, or rules in accordance with which beings thus un- conscious are controlled, can be called laws. The law of persons, on the other hand, is obeyed consciously. The subjects of it understand the law, are capable of choosing its end, and, if the law be moral, are under obligation to choose it. Here olligation is the essential thing. Without that there may be an end proposed to choice, and a command, but there can be no law. The most striking ground of analogy between law in the two senses specified, and the (j„nn4of basis of their common name, is in their '■^^'^• result. This is order. Uniformity, and thus order, mViit be the result of the first class of laws ; it ii the result of the second when obeyed. , CHAPTER II. obugatiok: moral ideas: conditions and chaeacteristics. Obligation being then the essential element obugattoni in moral law, in all law binding upon itaori^n. moral beings, we next inquire after the origin and nature of that. Of obligation we can make no division as of different kinds. Some have indeed spoken The concep. ^ u^tion"*^ of obligation as perfect and imperfect, simple. meaning by perfect obligation that which can be exactly defined and enforced. But while obligation may respect different persons, may arise in different relations, and may or may not be capa- ble of being enforced by an authority from without, yet the conception of it is an ultimate conception, and the same in all. It supposes a being capable of forming the idea and having the feeling of it, and, if he have a moral nature, so constituted that he must, under certain conditions, form this idea and have this feeling. Without this there could not be a moral nature. What we mean by a natural endowment, or a nature. OBLIGATION. 37 is a constitution such that under givt-ji conditions certain resuhs will uniformly follow. Thus No moral if pain uniformly follow the near approach without /■ 11-1 «. 1 • • 1 ">« '*'» "'■ to lire, the bemg thus aiiected is said to obugatioD. have a sensitive natute. If men uniformly tend to associate with each other, they are said to have a social nature. In the same way, if a being be so constituted that the idea and feeling of obliga- tion will uniformly arise under given circumstances, we say that he has a moral nature. We say that he is endowed not only with Reason., but with Moral Reason. This, and this only, can constitute man a moral being. What then is moral reason ? This we shall best learn from what reason is, for that has jj^^, been much more fully investigated. Rea- naTurahest son is that power of the mind by which ftJJS'pa„ it is furnished with those ideas and afEr- "'■''™- mations which are presupposed in all rational think- ing. These ideas are those of being, identity, causation, of space, of time, and others like them, the origin of which is now well understood. These are universal and necessary. The affirmations, as that all changes are in time, that all bodies are in space, and that every event must have a cause, are simply evolutions of these ideas when the occasion for them arises, and so are equally necessary and universal. These ideas and truths are implied in all our conceptions of beings and objects, and are 80 immediately and necessarily given that we can- 38 MORAL SCIENCE. not conceive of man as rational without them. As so intimate to ourselves, they were slow in being brought into distinct recognition and statement, but as they are fundamental, such recognition and state- ment are essential to the progress of either mental or moral science. Such being the function of reason, that of moral K^Lhow reason should be, and is, analogous. It is analogous. ^^^^ power of the mind by which it is fiarnished with those ideas and regulative principles which are presupposed in all moral action. These ideas are those of personality ; of an end Primary including a good and a supreme good ; of m^i"' free-will, and of obligation. These are pre- '^°°' supposed in every moral act, as are those of being, time, causation, etc., in every act of com- prehension ; and they have, whenever a moral act is performed, the characteristics given by Kant as distinctive of the others, that is, of imiversality and necessity. Of the above, obligation is the strictly moral idea ; but as the others are so dependent upon that that they could not be formed without it, they may be properly said to originate in the Moral Reason. They are primary ideas involved in all moral action, and so conditional for it. Thene are other ideas given by the Moral Reason, SecondaiT ^^ those of merit and demerit, which fol- morai** '"^ action, and so may be called second- """" ary. They are all either an immediate OBLIGATION. 39 knowledge of the personality by itself; or a mani- festation by it of that which is so inherent and essential to itself that the one cannot be conceived of without the other. These ideas hold, indeed, the same relation to the powers of feeling and of will, the Analogy be- , , tweeo ideas other constituents of our threefold being, "f p"™ and O' moral that the ideas of simple reason do to the reason- power of thought. We have a power of thought. Involved in this, and so involved that they must be given with it, are the ideas of being, of time, and space, etc. But if there are essential ideas accompanying the revelation to ourselves of our intellectual being, we might well suppose there would be such ideas connected with the revela- tion to ourselves of our emotive and voluntary powers. And so we find it. Involved in the power of feeling is the idea of good; and in the power of will, in the form of choice, is the idea of freedom. These and others of this class, have, as has been said, the same relation to man as active that the ideas of mere reason have to him as contempla- tive. Hence, as man is moral only as he is active, they are said to be the product of the Moral Reason. And again, as man is practical only as he is active, and as these ideas are regulative in practice, they may be called the product of the Practical Reason. This, I suppose, is what was intended by Kant under that name. As underlying moral action, the ideas above men- 40 MORAL SCIENCE. tioned have the characteristics of universality and necessity for all moral beings. They are farther distinguished as having in them an element of feel- ing, without which they could not be, as they are, immediately related to action. This some are slow in apprehending ; but it comes from the fact, scarcely recognized as yet, that the Moral Reason is wholly conditioned upon a Sensibility, and that thus the ideas which it gives partake of " the root and fat- ness of the olive " from which they spring. Without the requisite conditions no ideas are Moral ideas possiblc, and without a sensibilitv the first wholly con- * ^ _ ^ ^ "^ _ ditioned condition for moral ideas is not given. upon a ^ ^ ^^ eensibuity. "We might as Well have the idea of iden- tity, or of resemblance, without that of existence, as to have the idea of benevolence, or of justice, or of right, or of rights, or of obligation, without the action, as a previous condition, of a Sensibility, and the idea of good, enjoyment, well-being originated by such action. How is benevolence possible towards a being that can neither enjoy nor sufier ? How can we be just to one who has no interest to be secured, and who can be neither rewarded nor pun- ished ? Through the It was formerly the doctrine of philoso- element of ■ *' ^ feeiingmorai phers that reason is a directive, but not a Ideas become ^ ^ motivea. motive forcc. "Eeason the card, but passion is the gale," says Pope, and this was the opinion of his time. But since the Reason has been investigated, some have OBLIGATION. 41 laid that the ideas furnished by it become motives. Jonffroy says this, but he says it with no discrimina- tion of the different classes of ideas, and no explana- tion of the prevalence, almost universal, of the op- posite opinion. The explanation is to be found in the two classes of ideas just spoken of. Those of the pure reason, primitive and unconditioned, as those of being, of space, and their derivatives, as of identity, and of mathematical relations, can never become motives. Only those ideas can become motives that are conditioned on a Sensibility. These can and do. Thus it is that the idea of obligation becomes a motive, because, being conditioned on feeling, it has an element of feeling in it, while yet, as an idea, it is rational. This view of moral ideas precludes the analogy so commonly drawn between them and mathemat- ical ideas regarded as necessary and eternal. It is here, in the fact that a Sensibility is the condition precedent of all moral ideas, and j^is ftot so of any manifestation of a moral nature, theiHw?-' that we find the root of those theories of "*°'*''">'y- morals that make happiness or well-being ultimate. In their relation to morals the Sensibility and its products are not to be regarded merely as a utility, or as an object of choice lying before the mind as a motive, but also as lying back of all moral ideas and as their condition. If there were no good to be bestowed and recognized as such within a Sensibihty, there could be no love, and so no holiness. If there 42 MORAL SCIENCE. were no evil that could be suffered, there could be no selfishness or malice. "When, therefore, it is said, as it has been, to be an a priori law that benevolence is right and malice is wrong, it cannot be so a priori and transcendental as to exist till there is a knowledge of what benevolence and malice are, and so of that good and evil without which neither of them could be. Nor is there anything anomalous in this relation of a SensibiUty as a condition for moral ideas, since the same is true of a Will. The idea of a "Will in freedom as much underlies all moral ideas as does that of a Sensibility. The truth is that moral ac- tion, as the highest form of our activity, implies the activity and cooperation of the three great depart- ments of our nature — the Intellect, the Sensibility, and theWill, — and can be conceived of only as from a Person fiiUy constituted. The idea of being from the Intellect, of a good from the Sensibility, and of freedom from the Will, must each be a condition of any moral idea. From the Sensibility we have the idea of an essential good, a good in itself. From the Wm as choosing such a good for its own sake, or the reverse, we have the ideas of essential good- ness and essential wickedness, goodness and wicked- ness in themselves. Nothing that proceeds from the Sensibility can be goodness ; nothing that pro- ceeds from the Will can be a good. Thus do we give each element of personality its place ; thus do we discriminate them ; and thus does moral action OBUGATION. 43 imply that circle of interdependence among these faculties which we find in the essential functions of all life, where there is, in strictness, no first, and no last. From the above it would appear that moral ideas differ from others: first, as conditioned . ■! •!• Conclusions. upon the previous action of a sensibihty ; second, and because they are thus conditioned, as blended with feeling; third, and as thus blended with feeling, having in them the power both of impulse to action and of causing enjoyment and suf- fering. CHAPTEE m. obligation: freedom a condition. Op the ideas now mentioned, it is with that of obligation, as preeminently the moral idea, and as giving its validity to law, that we are especially concerned ; but as the others are conditions for that, we must, if we would trace its origin, examine them in that relation. Clearly the first condition of obUgation is the idea of freedom, or of the power of rational choice. As has been said, the idea of freedom is immediately and necessarily given to us in the knowledge we have of ourselves as possessed of will in the form of choice. It is not a moral idea except as it is a condition for moral action, and is the product of the Moral Reason only as moral ideas furnish the alter- native in kind which makes rational freedom possi- ble. If man were wholly animal, freedom to choose between different degrees or even kinds of animal enjoyment would amount to little ; but as the moral and spiritual differ in kind from the animal, the Moral Eeason furnishes the occasion for the exercise OBLIGATION, 46 of the highest possible freedom. When such an alternative is presented, the idea of freedom reveals itself at once as involved in the power of choice, and BO a constituent of that will which is among the central parts of our nature. This origin of the idea of freedom must practi- cally remove all ground of dispute about liberty, unless we are prepared for absolute skepticism , for if our primitive and necessary ideas do not rep- resent realities and so furnish a safe basis for action, our nature is false, and all search after truth is hopeless. That such is its origin is evident from the uniformity and tenacity with which men have held to it, notwithstanding dialectical subtleties and apparent demonstrations to the contrary. The power of choice, involving rational freedom, is an original and primary manifestation of our being, just as thought is, and can no more be practically denied than the being itself. But this power of choice does not include al) that has been commonly understood by gometMng will. It does not include volition, or the SiSce com putting forth of energy for the attain- derstoo5°iy ment of that which we choose. These have been grouped under the one name Will, or, as Hamilton proposes to call it, the Conative Power. But the movements are distinct, and should be so designated. The one is properly the Elective, and the other the Conative Power ; and if this distinction had al- 4:6 MORAL SCIENCE. ways been made it would have saved much confii- The elective ^i""" ^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ putting forth of energy and the CO- jg jijg more obtrusivc, and has attracted powers. uiore attention, but the elective is the lead- ing power. A generic choice once made and con- tinuing, must be followed by executive volitions, if the means are possessed for attaining the end chosen. If not, the choice will stand alone, and bide its time. It is this power of choice that belongs, as an ele- The deepest mentary constituent, to a rational soul, ttj!*^CT ^^^ ^* i^ ^" *^^^ *^** *^® deepest freedom of choice. consists — a freedom which can be taken away only by destroying the soul itself. External obstacles may prevent our attaining, or even strug- gling for, that which we choose. If the choice be not absolute we may be forced, as it is said, to work for an end which we do not choose, and this is sla- very; but still there always remains an absolute power of choice which no weapon can reach and no violence can overcome. Man can always be loyal to God and to duty. It is this freedom that is the first condition of obligation. Without the consciousness of a freedom of choice it is impossible that the idea of obligation should arise. Without it man would be a thing. CHAPTER rv. OBLIGATION : AN END A CONDITION. The second condition of obligation is the con- ception of an end. This is piiniarily from ^nenda the Sensibility, as that of freedom is from «™'""™- the Will. If there be choice there must be some- thing to be chosen ; the two are correlatives. In all rational action this conception of an end must be as elementary as the power of choice, since without it we can neither conceive of the action nor the choice. But there must not only be an end, there must also be a paramount, or supreme end. a supreme There must be something which it is sary. imperative that the man should choose, for if we suppose several ends, and it be indifferent which is chosen, or whether any, there can be no obligation. An end may be subordinate, ultimate, or supreme. A subordinate end is one chosen for the sake of something; beyond itself. An ultimate end Ends of IS one chosen tor its own sake. A supreme Kinds. ^ end is also ultimate, and is one which, in any con- flict of ultimate ends, ought to be chosen. 48 MORAL SCIENCE. An ultimate end never lies proximate to volition. mtimate VoHtion simply produces action, but ulti- ^ti^?^ mate ends are the results of action, and Stattmto'' depend upon forces over which volition Toution. jj^g ^^ control. If a man would have the effects of light resulting in sight as an ultimate end, he must open his eyes. The opening of them is by volition, the seeing is the result of forces with which volition, except indirectly, has nothing to do. For the attainment of most ultimate ends both Vouuon not choice and volition are required, but for the the^ttoi-*" highest end of the individual, if we sup- ^preme"" pose that to be the enjoyment of God, only choice is needed without volition. The choice of Him as a portion without volition is as the opening of the eyes, and the light of his counten- ance irradiates the soul. And just here it is that we find the germinant Faith and points of faith and works, those two great workB. forms of activity in all rational life, whether Christian or secular. The essential ele- ment of faith, which is not belief from the intel- lect, but confidence or trust from the will, is found in choice ; and the essential element of works is found in volition. These two, choice and volition, have their common root in what we call the will, as the nerves of sensation and of motion have their common root in the spinal cord, and between these the analogy is perfect. As sensation inspires mo- tion, so does choice volition, and faith works ; and as sensation and motion are inseparably united ex- OBLIGATION. 49 cept at their very root, so should be choice and volition, faith and works. That some ends may be thus attained by choice without volition it is important for us to see, be- cause, as will be shown hereafter, it brings us to the precise seat of responsibility, and simi)Iifies the moral problem. That there should be for man a supreme end is essential to his unity, and to any con- . •J ^ . A supreme ccption of him as made by a wise and *°* essential r J for man B good being. Without this there could be ^'"^• no unity in the race, no basis for character, or con- sistency of action. But that there should le Buch an end is not suf- ficient. For any rational action it is essen- Mm must tial that man should know what the end end. is. This he may do formally, so as to be able to state it, or implicitly, as he knows his own exist- ence, which he may never think of stating, but of which the knowledge is involved in all his actions. That he is thus capable of knowing his end is the chief distinction of man. The great dif- g„„hknowi- ference between him and the brutes is '^f*f''^. not that he can abstract and generalize, """''o"- not that he can make his own faculties the object of his study, becoming in recent phraseology both subject and object, but it is that his Maker takes him into his own counsel by revealing to him hia end, and permits him either to choose or reject it ; either to cooperate with or work against Him. Without such knowledge of his end man would 4 50 MORAL SCIENCE. be in simple bewilderment. This is the turning point between a nature capable of sympathy, coop- eration, friendship, wisdom, and one that is not. So our Savior puts it. " Henceforth," says he, " I call you not servants, for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth, but I have called you friends, for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you." A being that can entex into cooperation with God by choice is in a relation entirely new, and must have endowments infinitely higher than those of any being incapable of this. In the sense now specified, all creatures below man, ani- mate and inanimate, are literally and solely servants of God, not knowing what he doeth. Man may not only be a servant, but a friend. It was with a full apprehension of the grandeur of this relation that Abraham was called in the Scriptures, " the Friend of God." That man is not thus his friend is the cause of all the puzzles in moral science. It is, too, through this power of choosing a su- preme end that man has character as dis- c^j^t,, tinguished from characteristics. Mere '"iMM^fBu. things and the brutes have characteristics ; i"'™° ™*' man has character, and this is determined by the end chosen. If the supreme end chosen be money, the man is avaricious ; if power, he is ambitious ; if the love and service of God, he is religious, and nothing short of such a supreme choice can make him either avaricious, or ambitious, or religious. This is the point of supreme wisdom and folly, the cardinal point of destiny for every man. CHAPTER V. obligation: a good as a condition. We see from the above the necessity of an end, and of a supreme end. But the word ^ ^^^ „ ^ mcludes not merely an idea in the intellect °°'"'''""'- of something that can be comprehended and at- tained by the use of means, there is also in it an element by which it is addressed to our emotive nature. To be chosen by us there must be in it, or seem to be, a good. Tracing it back we shall find that there must be something valuable for its own sake — something good in itself, and recognized as such within a sensibility. What then is a good ? Strictly there is no good that is not subjt'.ctive, and so, known as SubjeoUye -I . . . . 1 . and objec- such Within some consciousness; but it avegood diBtin- will accord more with the cast of our Ian- guished. guage, and tend to a clearer apprehension of the subject, if we say that all good is either objective or subjective. An objective good is anything so correlated to a conscious being as to produce sub- jective good. Subjective good is some form of en- joyment or satisfaction in the consciousness. 52 MORAL SCIENCE. This subjective good, not our own, but that of iheirreia- ^^^ couscious beings, is so a good and S?° '^""8'' the good that if there were no conscious- °°^*' ness there would be no objective good. If there were not a conscious being in the uni- verse, nor could ever be, it would be good for noth- ing. As further showing the relation of objective good „. to us, it may be said that that on which The supreme ' J good'of each *'^® Supreme regard of any one is jBxed, '™ '*"*■ as the source of his subjective good, is his God. The objects and beings so correlated to us as to Twociasees producc subjective good ai'e of two classes. of objective , , 11- good. They are those that cannot produce this good voluntarily, and cannot themselves enjoy it ; and those who can produce it voluntarily, and who can themselves enjoy it. Those things that can produce subjective good Firstoiass- "^'^'j in Voluntarily are mere things, and meaMof have value in proportion to their power ^°'*' to produce such good. A picture is val- uable in proportion to the satisfaction, whether from its intrinsic qualities, or from association, which it is capable of giving. This is true of all mere things. There is here no apprehension of moral qualities, no sense of obligation, no love. All such things are merely things, and the means of good. The good that can come from them is inferior in kind and limited in degree. OBLIGATION. 63 The second class of beings who may come into such correlation to us as to produce sub- ge,„nj,„iajg jectivegoodis of those who are capable of ^"^"'if producing it voluntarily, and who are ^°°''" themselves capable of enjoying it. These are per- sons, and that disposition in them which leads them to produce subjective good is called goodness. In doing this they are not simply a condition, or a meang, but are a cause of good. There are conditions and means of subjective good, and also causes, and these are to be j,ija„^„n carefully distinguished. The inanimate conduioDs creation, with its laws, is the condition, »°* ■=""«''« not the cause of vegetable life. Vegetables exist only through a force which subordinates to itself all the laws of mere matter, and so could not have been developed from matter and its laws, but must have been superinduced by a cause above them. As thus a condition for vegetables and serving them, mere matter with its laws is lower than they. In the same way vegetables are lower than animals, and animals than man. Always, as is stated in the third Lecture on Moral Science, that which is the condition of another thing, and so serves it, is lower than it. In this upward progress of forces as con Jitioning and conditioned, that which comes last is always the highest. But in thus passing up we ulti- mately reach personality, and in that a true cause. This brings us to the culmination, and we must again go downward. A cause we always conceive 54 MORAL SCIENCE. of as higher than its effects. God, as a cause, is higher than the universe, and so man, as far as he is a true cause, is higher than any effects or results of his activity. When once we have reached a per- sonal cause there is no longer any place for condi- tions, but only for effects, and these must always be lower than the cause. If then it be said that holy activity or virtue, or, The erson which is the Same thing, the person acting a cause, not according to his highest law, is a means of a means of o o ' happiness, happiness, we say that this does not ex- press their true relation. The holiness is not a means of happiness, but the cause. It is the per- son choosing in accordance with the end for which God made him ; and as thus choosing, worthy of respect, of admiration, of approbation, of compla- cent love, of veneration. This is no " dirt-philos- ophy," or " bread-and-butter philosophy," or " util- itarian philosophy." It affirms obligation immedi- ately and necessarily, and if it be in view of a good, — as in view of what else can it be ? — it is in view of good as such ; of the good of others far more than of our own ; and so far as it is our own, a good like that of God himself, as being from the activity of a nature made in his image and con- formed to his will. Who shall say that this is low, or mercenary, or unworthy ? It is the choice of good for the sake of good ; the good of God, and of his universe, and this, if anything can be, is essential goodness. That is, indeed, an utterly OBLIGATION. 56 heartless and debasing system, which, instead of the grandeur and play of personalities involving free-will, and high sentiment, and disinterested love, would reduce the universe to a machine, the parts of which are merely utilities, and to be esti- mated too by each one with reference to their effect upon himself. But besides being direct causes of good to us there is another relation in which persons Conscious 1 1 • . 1 mi being to be stand to our subjective good. Tliey are loveda not only capable of causing subjective '''"■'■''• good in us, but also of enjoying it, and of suffering its opposite, and as such are to be loved with a virtuous love for their intrinsic worth or value as beings. A being with great capacity for sub- jective good has great worth in distinction from wor- thiness, and is to be loved on this ground. The love of being in the abstract, and aside from such capacity, is impossible. Such a being, and especially one capable of virtue, or holiness and the good from that, can not merely become the cause to another of subjective good and so excite gratitude and com- placency, but may become to that other an object of effort, and so call out the activity of his powers in their highest form that there will result to him his own subjective good. If we except mere sensitive good, it is indeed only the attributes of personality, imme- attributes diately seen or reflected, that can be the ^t^™°°y direct cause of subjective good to us as snb|^tf„ thev are drawn out in our behalf, or its ^°°^' 56 MORAL SCIENCE. indirect cause as we are active in behalf of others. It would appear then, that there are two ways in Subjective which subiective good may come to us good comes ^ ^ /. i through re- One is throuffh the action of other thmgs ceiTiQg and ° ^ giying. ^nd pcrsons upon us ; the other through the activity of our own powers put forth with reference to them — that is, virtually through re- ceiving and giving. This distinction is radical. It is made in view of the broadest and most fun- damental division of our nature, except perhaps that of soul and body, and one which will be made the basis of a classification of duties in the subse- quent practical part. According to this all subjective good is from ThroDKh aetivity either in receiving or in giving, mesand''' ^^^ '*' through the susceptibilities or the powers. powers. Others may exercise goodness towards us and thus be the cause to us of subjec- tive good through our capacity of receiving. We may also exercise goodness towards them, that is, choose and seek to promote their good, and from this activity of the powers in thus giving there will be to us a higher and purer form of subjective good than any other. We contemplate others as capable of subjective Relation good. As such we See that they have between the -vsrorth, and lovc them impartially. We oS'^°* see that their good is unspeakably desira- tuedefined. hlc and Valuable for its own sake, a? OBLIGATION. 67 much so as our own ; we choose that good for them, we put forth efforts that they may attain it, and in so doing we find the highest form of our own subjective good. This impartial love, this choice of good for others and effort to enable them to attain it, is virtue. Virtue is not the choice or love of virtue, or of right ; it is the love of God and of our neighbor as ourselves — the wilhng of good — the good will. That is virtue, that is right, and it is in the putting forth of this good will that our highest worthiness is found. What is, then, the end and good of man ? Objec- tively, God is his end and good. Every g^^ ^^^,, man may properly say that God is his Jweend'aDd good. He made man so that only himself ^°°'*" ean be to him an adequate source of subjective good. Hence his dependence and filial relation forever as made in the image of God. God is such a good that not only all can choose Him and find Him as adequate to each as if no other had thus chosen Him, but that each new choice of Him, both as augmenting his glory and increasing the good of others, augments the joy of those who have already thus chosen. And not only must we receive all things from Him, but it is only as we give back to him our active love — as we love Him for his own sake as infinite in being and in excellence — that the highest joys of holiness can come. Those joys are indeed from the very activity that constitutes the holiness. 58 MORAL SCIENCE. Whether we regard ourselves then as passive or active, God is our good. " All our springs are in Him." He is our sun. He is to us all that recent research shows the sun to be to the forces of nature, and more than this. The subjective end and good of man, on the subjecHTo other hand, will be, subordinately, that Bubordinate ■ ''^hich WO roceive through the action upon «npreme. ^g ^f other things and beings, while our supreme good is the joy from holy activity in the love and service of God. The verj"- highest good is in the putting forth of energy towards God. The happiness from this is no happening. It is the infal- lible outgrowth of our innermost being when we act according to our law. This, with all joys of complacency in others or in ourselves incident to it, is holy happ-Iness, or blessedness. It is the hap- piness that comes from holy activity. We have thus a subjective good both from our passivities and our activities, from receiv- ing and from giving. Both of these, and in their order as higher and lower, are expressed by the Scriptures when they say, " In thy presence is fullness of joy ; at thy right hand are pleasures forevermore." The joy is as an aroma from the love, the adoration, and every highest form of vol- untary activity called forth by the immediate be- holding of God. The pleasures forevermore are from the action of the susceptibilities in their adjust- ment to the surroundings of heaven, which are fore- shadowed by so many wonderfiil adjustments here. CHAPTER VI. OBLIGATION : TWO FORMS OF SPONTANEOUS ACTION But to understand fiilly the relation of our sub- jective good to our freedom and causative j^„ f^^^ power, we need to see the relation of free- ^J^"^ dom to the two forms of spontaneous ac- ''°°' tion. There is first a form of spontaneous action that precedes choice, and is conditional for it. nret form The original forms of the activity of our choice, being in its fundamental faculties, and by which men become revealed to themselves, are purely spontaneous, and are the condition of all voluntary activity. We must be, and through a spontaneous activity know ourselves to be, before we can put forth any voluntary activity. Consciousness itself, in which is all subjective good, is from or in an ac- tivity that is wholly involuntary, that commenced and can terminate by no agency of ours. There is also a spontaneous activity that suc- ceeds voluntary activity and is consequent Second form upon it. Gaining through consciousness a choice, knowledge of ourselves, and then the control of oui Acuities, we find that each form of voluntary ac- 60 MORAL SCIENCE. tivityis followed — and with a certainty like that of the laws of nature — by results in the consciousness that are from a spontaneous and involuntary ac- tivity. The above is true both of the body and of the. nitimatB mind. We put forth voluntary effort in fng'the*"'" g^'ining food, in preparing it, in bringing proamatoto ^^ ^'^ ^^® Hiouth, and in masticating and the will. swallowing it, but all this is only that it may be delivered over to the charge of the in- voluntary activities in tasting, in digestion, and as- similation. No growth, or pleasure, or pain of the body, nothing that is an ultimate end for that, can be directly willed into being. We eat, and pleas- ure and nutrition are the result. We approach too near the fire, and pain is the result. These are from activities, but not from those willed by us. We know them, indeed, not immediately as ac- tivities, but only in growth, and pleasure and pain which are their result. And so it is in the mind. We will to lie ; but Dittmate '^^ ^^ ^^^ '^i'^ t^^ shame and tlie remorse notdSf that follow. We love; but we do not w'Ued- -yyiil the joy that is in it, and that cannot be separated from it. In no case can we will di- rectly either joy or sorrow, happiness or suffering, or, indeed, any ultimate end. We can only will those acts that are uniformly connected with such an end by our constitution, or, which is the same thing, by the appointment of God. OBLIGATION. 61 It is through these results in the consciousness of his creatures that depend on activities not subject to their will, that God governs them. All growth, perfection, and enjoyment, on the one ^^ ^^^^^ hand, and all degradation and suffering on a^°e7^°i'n the other, are the result of spontaneous "f'^"'- action consequent on voluntary action. In these are physical pleasure and pain ; in these joy and sorrow ; in these remorse, misery, the anguish of despair ; • in these is the blessedness of the righteous, the peace that is like a river, the- pleasures that are at God's right hand forevermore. But while the agent is thus compelled to work between these two forms of spontaneous Manreapon- . . 1-1 1 1111 ... Bible for the activity, which may be called the original second fonn of activity and the secondary, their relation to him only as free and responsible is wholly different. For the first he is in no sense responsible. He is no more responsible for his original faculties and desires, or for any action of them before the possible control of will, than he is for his being itself. For the second he is responsible, because though spontane- ous after the voluntary act, yet the nature of this spontaneous activity will depend on that act. The results are indirectly subject to the will. We have thus seen what subjective good is, and how it is related to our powers of agency. ^^ ^^ ^ Being the product of all activity that is ^j^£™ according to its law, the idea of it must °'«°'»'y- run back to the very beginnings of consciousness, 62 MORAL SCIENCE. and enter into our conception of ourselves. Of the three great forms of our activity, knowing, feeling, and willing, that of feeling can, like the others, be known only by its action ; and if good be indeed the product of its first activity, then the idea of it must be as elementary as that of thought, or of feeling itself. So far as good and its opposite are the product Good and ^^ ^^r being without our own agency, gtft and in-'° they are the immediate gift or infliction of flicHon. f.^^ So far as they are the residt of our agency Mdp^sh- t^®y ^^^^ probably intended as reward ment. qj, punishment, as we do or do not con- form to the laws of our being. CHAPTER VII. OBLIGATION : PEKSONALITY A CONDITION. We have now examined all the ideas conditiona] for obligation except that of personality. pg„o„g,jt^ This holds the same place among ideas of »«°'«u««n. the Moral Reason that the idea of being does among those of pure reason; for as all attributes and changes and causations imply being, so do all moral actions imply a person. The idea of personality is simple, but it must imply at least Moral Reason and Free-will, idea of per- " . . , . 1 . , fonality Sim- it must consist m that which, m the p'e- upward progress of the creation, is added to the animal nature that it may not only have a home in that nature and govern it, but also govern itself according to its own recognized law. It must con- sist in that which gives its dignity and excellence to our nature, and so its right to govern. This right is from the power of self-government with reference to ends, and so of voluntary cooperation with God, or the reverse. It is in this that the peculiarity and dignity of man and his right to dominion are found. Probably the first apprehension of the person by himself, his first knowledge of himself aa a person, is the consciousness of this dominion, first 64 MORAL SCIENCE. over himself, and then over all that is below him. . " And God said let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and let them have dominion." The right and power of control over that which is below him man could not have if he had not dominion over himself. Such prerogatives and powers, if known at all, Beat of re- "lust be known immediately, and in Bponsibiuiy. ]jj,owing ourselves as possessing them : and so, as persons, we reach the centre and seat of responsibility. This is not the reason, the will, the conscience ; it is the person, the self, the Ego, the man, that chooses and is under obligation. Is man then a person ? a being whose nature and prerogative it is to know and choose his own end, whatever that may be ? If not, he is not ra- tional. No definition of man as rational can be given as far as his actions tend to ends which he neither knows nor chooses. But if man be a person, then we are prepared to find the point at which obliga- tion arises. As physical law always has respect to force act- obiigation iug Uniformly, so does obligation, or moral respectfl 111 choice. law, always have respect to a person hav- iiig the power of choice. The science of morals has for its condition and subject a person choosing. Without this as given it is inconceivable. But as it is distinctive of the action of a person that it is de- termined by choice, obligation will respect that. It will be obligation, first to choose some end and good, OBLIGATION. 65 and then to act rationally for the attainment of that. It will therefore respect the voluntary, and not at all the spontaneous action of our nature, except as its spontaneous is determined by its voluntary action. At this point able men, as Drs. Chalmers and Archibald Alexander, have differed ; Dr. ^^^ ^^^ Chalmers contending that every moral act Tn, Jnatui* is voluntary, and Dr. Alexander, that this °'^„3°^ can be only if the word voluntary be "°''' made to include acts that are spontaneous. " The word necessary," he says, " should never have been applied to any exercises which are spontaneous or voluntary, bocause all such are free in their very nature." It would doubtless have been conceded by both that a sense of responsibility, and so of obligation, is impossible with reference to an event like the ebb and flow of the tides, that has no connection proxi- mate or remote with the will. Certainly no one insists more strongly than Dr. Alexander upon freedom as a ground of responsibility. He even says - that he would admit the self-determining power of the will, whether he understood it or not, f that were necessary to establish the doctrine.^ But we have seen above that one form of spontaneous action has no reference to the will. It will not do therefore to say that spontaneous action as such, is free. What then makes the difference ? The tnith 1 iforal Science, p. 111. 5 Missing Page Missing Page 68 MORAL SCIENCE. The difference between the natural and the moral Moral affec- affections is, that the moral affections are tioDS as dia- -,,,"-, i • i • /» tinguished Conditioned upon the previous choice or natural. a supromc end, and derive their charac- ter from the character of that. We thus see the relation of spontaneous to vol- untary action. In no case is spontaneous Conclusion. . . . p .. i action either tree or responsible except from its relation to previous voluntary action. So far Moral Philosophy goes. It makes freedom a condition of responsibihty, and says there can be no freedom where there is no choice. CHAPTER VIII. OBLIGATION NECESSARILY AFFIRMED. The ideas prerequisite to obligation have now been considered, and we pass to that, itsneceaauy a • . 1 , afiflnnatlon } And here we are prepared to say that iavoivea , ,11 feeling', the moment a man conies to the knowl- the uitim»t» fact la edge of his end, including the true good morals. of his nature as constituted by God, the Moral Rea- son necessarily affirms obligation to choose that end. Such an affirmation for the guidance of man analogy would lead us to expect. It is g^j^jj,^ just that for him as rational, that instinct ^go'i°°oT-' is for the brute, except that man, as free, °""'''' has an alternative. The law of instinct is always from the end of the animal, and its impulses are towards that ; and we should expect that the law of the rational being would, in the same way, be from his end, and that, in connection with the pre- rogative of freedom, and for man as rational, there would be both an idea of the end, and an impulse towards it. And it is just this that we find. This supreme end need not be, and is not, known in its obiig»Uon abstract and general form, but obligation an^^* 70 MORAL SCIENCE. is affirmed the moment there is furnished an occa- sion for choice in any specific case involving the end. If the end be to love God, or man, then, as soon as we are brought into such relations to them that love is possible, the obligation will be affirmed. It is precisely thus that we judge and work in each particular case under mathematical axioms before being able to state them. The affirmation of obligation thus made involves Thisafflr both an idea and a feeling ; and these are .mation in- , /> n . . . i . « Toivesan SO lu a State ot Tusion that we say mdii- feeuLg. ferently, the idea, or the feeling of obliga- tion. The Moral Reason being conditioned, as we have seen, upon a sensibility, this is true of all its products. Like carburetted hydrogen, they are charged with both light and heat. The product of reason simply, is an idea ; the product of the Moral Reason is an idea and a feeling thus blended, and this is higher. The brutes have feeling, but not reason. Man has feeling and reason separately, and often as opposed to each other, but in his proper personality there is a perfect blending of that part of his nature which feels with that which knows, so that the moving and guiding powers be- come one. " The wheels are full of eyes round about." Now let the elective power, not the conative, as Hamilton has it, act in accordance with Results. . , PIT. the law ot the bemg thus given, and the moral heavens are. set in order for their glad way. OBLIGATION. 71 We have now a person under obligation to choose rationally his supreme end, and so under Moral Law. Thus do we find law — Moral Law. Moral Law is the affirmation by the Moral Reason of Moral l»w T.T i* ,1 n deduced, obligation on the part or every man to defined, choose that as his supreme end which God designed him for, and to do whatever would legitimately flow from that choice. If the question respect any infe- rior end we may be governed by inclination, choos- ing it or not, as we please. What the end of man is we are to learn as we learn what the end of the eye, or the ear, jj, ^^^^^^ or the hand is. We are to examine his "hatTiid structure, his susceptibilities, his powers •">" learned, physical, mental, moral, and however complex they may be, if there be convergence and unity it can be seen. That there is such convergence and unity was shown in my former lectures. In them the separate systems of which man is composed were examined. Each system has, of course, its own end. The end of the body is to be the home and servant of the mind, and it is most perfect when it most perfectly fulfills that end. The end of the in- tellect is to apprehend all that knowledge of God and his works that will enable man to secure not only his highest, but his whole end. In the same way each of the other systems, as the desires, and the affections, has its end. But when we understand the whole structure of man and his relations, it is 72 MORAL SCIENCE. as obvious, as was formerly shown, that he was made to love God with all his heart and his neigh- bor as himself, as it is that the eye was made to see with, or the ear to hear with. This is his highest end as active — love itself as an activity, and the further activities that spring from love. This is what he was made to do. As capable of enjoyment his highest end is the joy that comes from thus loving. These God has inseparably united. The joy can come only from the love ; the love cannot be without the joy. Now what we say is, that no unperverted rational This ncccs- and moral being can be brought into a eary afflr- ... i • i i p i • i maHon the positiou lu which he must put Torth either nltiinate ftict r i mi in morals, love — good-will — ou the oue hand, or selfishness or malignity on the other, and not affirm, immediately, and necessarily, obligation to love. This affirmation is altogether peculiar, and is the primaiy, or, if you please, the ultimate fact in mor- als. It is made in view of the end as good — the good of beings capable of good. In it is involved all that we mean by the word ought, which has in it an element both of impulse and of authority. Im- pulse is not law, even that from the moral nature. It never can be. It is only the affirmation, the rational affirmation of obligation that can give binding force to law. We are under obligation — we ought to choose the good and refuse the evil. The good we choose and seek to promote, as good, as having value in itself. The choice is right. OBLIGATION. 73 Any impulse from a natural principle of action is an indication that a thing is to be done if i-he sphere there be no counteracting reason ; but °*''™p"''*- lower impulses are to give place to higher, and all others to those from the moral nature. It is the impulses from this that are virtually madu by many the basis of moral science ; but no impulse can be the basis of science, or can have authority as such. Science, and the direct authority of reason as dis- tinguished from that which is indirect through faith, can be based only on insight and comprehen- sion ; and if the reason on the ground of which obligation is affirmed by the Divine Mind is so hid- den from man that he cannot affirm it on the same ground, then science is impossible, and this whole subject must be relegated to the region of faith. But if man is capable of seeing in the good of God and his creatures that which has in- c^oi^^, finite worth as valuable in itself, and if he ^°^^^y>j is so constituted as necessarily to affirm '^*«"'- obligation to choose and promote this good, and to see that the principle of action which w^ould secure it is infinitely lovely, then is there upon him from each and all of these the behest of reason, affirm- ing its own authority, requiring him to choose this, and from which he can no more escape than from his being itself. CHAPTER IX. OBLIGATION : PALEY : OBLIGATION AND AU- THORITY. The above account of obligation is wholly differ- ent from that given by Paley. According to him, to be under obligation and to be obliged are the same thing, and "a man is obliged when he is urged by a violent motive resulting from the com- mand of another." But according to the view above given — no direct command of another is in- volved, and in the sense in which Paley uses the word, the motive need not be violent. As obligation is so early and so much connected with the command of others, as of parents, of civil rulers and of God, it is not, perhaps, strange that some should make the obligation dependent on the command. But surely mere will, a command as such, cannot be the foundation of obligation, for what is to legitimate the command ? Either com- mand must be obligatory as such, or there must be some test in a moral being by which it can be de- termined whether a command is a righteous com- mand, and it is only on the supposition of such a test that any being can be " a law unto himself." OBLIGATION. 75 But such a test can consist only in a direct affirma- tion of the Moral Reason. Let its grounds be fully set forth and a decision must be given within the consciousness of a moral being from whicli' there can be, /or him, no appeal. The affirmation is that the person is under obhgation, and as long as this continues to be made the man must act in accord- ance with it or disclaim the authority of his moral nature. Refusing to act in accordance with obliga- tion thus affirmed, the purity and dignity and worthi- ness of a moral being would be compromised, and baseness and conscious degradation would be in- curred. There would be the reaction of reason against itself as failing to act reasonably, and so self-condemnation, remorse, the biting back of him- self by a being that condemns himself. So far as we can see, it must pertain to the very nature of a moral being to affirm obligation to choose and pro- mote well-being rather than the reverse, and that the alternative must be either that we do choose this, or that we give ourselves up to be governed by some lower principle of action and so to degrada- tion and self-condemnation. This affirmation and alternative we may reverently say belong to God himself as a moral being. With him there can be no motive from the command of another, and yet there is no being in whom the affirmation is so ab- solute. " Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?' CHAPTER X. OLTIMATE MORAL IDEA6 : WHEWELL : THEOKT OV RIGHT. We are now in a position to see distinctly the iuiatioaof relation to each other of ultimate ideas in ultimate i a i* 11 moral ideas, morals. According to the above state- ments moral action is in two spheres, that of choice, and that of volition or conduct. In the sphere of choice the ultimate conditional idea for a moral act is an end or good ; the ultimate moral idea is obli- gation, or the affirmation of the ought; and the ultimate moral act is choice. Of the obligation to choose one end rather than another the ground must be in the end chosen, since, if two ends be equally valuable, it can make no difference which is chosen. The choice may be right or wrong, but by no possibihty can the obhgation depend upon any quality in the act of choosing. In the second, or what I regard as the sub- niumate Ordinate sphere of moral activity, the Ideas in , . j- • , . n . . i secondary ultimate Conditional idea is a rule or law ; morals. the ultimate moral idea is right, and the ultimate moral act is a volition producing conformity or want of conformity to a rule ; or, if a rule be not admitted, it is doing right because it is right. OBLIGATION. 77 Right lias oommonly been supposed to be the altimate, or rather to be the moral idea. Right not It is said, and that is perhaps the popular w™- system now, that right is a necessary and indepen- dent idea ; that the distinctions of right and wrong are inherent in the nature of things in the same way as mathematical ideas are independent and necessarily involved in the relations of space and of quantity. But right and wrong, morally con- sidered, can have nothing to do with any nature of things existing necessarily, as we conceive space to do, but only with the nature of persons, so that no act which may not affect the interest of some per- son can be a moral act. Right and wrong have, indeed, nothing to do with things, but only with actions, and it produces confusion to speak of the nature of things, and of necessity from that when the province of morality is wholly without, or rather above the sphere of things, and when the only necessity there is about it is the necessary affirma- tion by the Moral Reason that a person capable of apprehending good and evil is under obligation to choose the good and reject the evil. But if, with Whewell, we make right mean " conformable to a rule," we shall then WheweU. have obligation as the moral idea, and right will be, as it really is, a moral idea only as it involves that. Many acts having no reference to the supreme end we call right, but they involve no obligation, 78 MORAL SCIENCE. and hence are not moral. In studying it is right to sit or to stand, because the end may be reached equal- ly well in either way. But every ac; bearing upon the supreme end, and because it does thus bear upon it, involves obligation and is thus a moral act. The obligation which is in it, and which makes it a moral act is there from the affirmation of the Moral Reason in view of the good there is in the end. The above view provides perfectly for freedom in What this setting obligation and moral law over oiudOTand agaiust all mere impulsion and craving; impues. j|. afgjjds that the ultimate act in morals is generic choice ; that the proper object of choice is good, and therefore that right is not the last worJ that can an(l must be said on this subject. It holds that right is a quality of action, and that action must have some end besides its own quality. It therefore goes back to a good to be chosen for its own sake, and to an ultimate law demanding that it be thus chosen, and makes all morally right action to be right from its relation to that. This generic choice of good it identifies with the love commanded in the Bible, and the choice itself — that is, the choos- ing — with that wisdom which the Bible says is " tlie principal thing." It does not find that the law of God is that we are to do right, but that we are to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, and our neighbor as ourselves, and that to do this is to do right. OBLIGATION. 79 The contusion from a failure to discriminate the spheres above mentioned may be seen by WheweU. a reference to the "Elements of Morality " by Whewell. Whewell has just passed away, and is the last eminent English writer on this subject. That I may not misrepresent him, and may the better show the relation of ideas at this point, I will quote him at some length. " The adjective right" he says, " signifies conformahh to rule ; and it is used with reference to the object of the rule. To be temperate is the right way to be healthy. To labor is the right way to gain money. In these cases the adjective right is used relatively, that is relatively to the object of the rule. " It has been said also that we may have a series ot actions, each of which is a means to the next as an end. A man labors that he may gain money, that he may educate his children : he would educate his children, in order that they may prosper in the world. In these cases the inferior ends lead to higher ones, and derive their value from these. Each subordinate action aims at the end next above it as a good. In the series of actions just mentioned, a man's gain is regarded as a good because it tends to the education of his children. Education is considered as valuable because it tends to prosperity. " And the rules which prescribe such actions derive their imperative force and validity, each from the rule above it. The superior rule supplies a reason for the inferior. The rule, to labor, derives its force from the rule, to seek gain : this rule receives its force (in the 80 MORAL SCIENCE. case we are considering) from the rule to educate out children : this again, has for its reason to forward the prosperity of our children. " But besides such subordinate rules, there must be a supreme rule of human action. For the succession of means and ends with the corresponding series of subor- dinate and superior rules, must somewhere terminate. And the inferior ends would have no value as leading to the highest, except the highest had a value of its own. The superior rules could give no validity to the subordinate ones, except there were a supreme rule from which the validity of all of these were ultimately derived. Therefore there is a supreme rule of human action. That which is conformable to the supreme rule is absolutely right ; and is called right simply, with- out relation to a special end. The opposition to right is wrong. " The supreme rule of human action may also be described by its object. " The object of the supreme rule of human action is spoken of as the true end of human action, the ultimate or supreme good, the summum bonum. " There are various other ways of expressing the opposition of right and wrong, and the supreme rule of human action ; namely, the rule to do what is right and to abstain from doing what is wrong. We say we ought to do what is right ; we ought not to do what is wrong. To do what is right is our duty ; to do what . is wrong is a transgression, an offense ; a violation of our duty ! " The question why ? respecting human actions, de- mands a reason, which may be given by a reference from a lower rule to a higher. Why ought I to be OBLIGATION. 81 frugal or industrious ? In order that I may not want a maintenance. Why must I avoid want ? Because I must seek to act independently. Why should I act in- dependently ? That I may act rightly. " Hence, with regard to the supreme rule, the ques- tion Why ? admits of no further answer. Why must I do what is right ? Because it is right. Why should I do what I ought ? Because I ought. The supreme rule supplies a reason for that which it commands by heing the supreme rule. " Bightness and wrongness are, as we have already said, the moral qualities of actions. The rules which, in subordination to the supreme rule, determine what iS' right and wrong, are moral rules. The doctrine which treats of actions as right and wrong is morality." It may seem strange that such a man should come so near the truth and yet miss it, but it only shows hovf difficult it is on subjects of this class to make a step, which yet, being made, will seem per- fectly otvious. Having admitted that the object of the Supreme rule of human action is the true end of human action, no reason can be given why the supreme rule should not hold the same relation to the supreme end or good that any other rule does to its end. That would make all rules, as they obviously are, secondary, and would carry moral action back to the choice of a supreme end. But instead of this he allows of no moral action what- ever with reference to the end, but only with refer- ence to the rule. " The supreme rule," he says, 82 MORAL SCIENCE. " supplies a reason for that which it commands by leing the supreme rule." Rightness and wrongness, which are solely from conformity or want of con- formity to rules, he makes the only moral qualities of actions, and leaves no place for moral action as intrinsically good or evil, and as having reference to that end, which, as he allows, gives to all rules except that which is supreme, their validity. Whe- well perceived the necessity of ends ; he subordi- nated rules to them ; he even subordinated lower ends and rules to those that are higher, though he gave no principle of subordination and no law of limitation. But having done this he stopped short, and made rules, and conformity to them, and right, ultimate, instead of ends, and choice, and obliga- tion. Whewell says explicitly that the end of human action is happiness. " The supreme object," says he, " of human action is happiness. Happiness is the object of human action contemplated in its most general form, and approved by reason." ^ And yet he regards himself, and is regarded, as belonging to the a 'priori school, because he stops short in his analysis, and draws all moral conduct from rules. The system which makes right the ultimate Theory of moral idea, with no avowed reference to right: two 11. 1 phases. rules, has two phases. The first regards the sense, or intuition of right, as immediate and infallible. An action is nnt phase. . i i . . . , ■, , right because it is right, and there is an 1 Sec. 573. OBLIGATION. 83 immediate intuition of it. This admits not only of no rule as a standard, but of no regard to conse- quences. The other phase of this system not only allows, but requires, the use of the intellect in g^^^^ seeking for relations, consequences, utili- ''''^' ties, but says that the sense of right is developed only in connection with the apprehension of these. But it does not tell us what the particular relations and consequences needed for this development are, nor why the sense of right should spring from one more than another. It is, indeed, only the indefi- nite system of relations. It gives a place to wis- dom, but instead of making it the right choice of a supreme end, in which alone is wisdom, or at least without which there can be none, it makes it merely skill, or the means to an end. The first phase of the above system is definite and consistent with itself. It speaks of iheflrat " Intuitive Morals." But it tends rather p""*"- to the barren declamation of the heathen philoso- phers about virtue, than to the love of God and man, and would make fanatics. The second phase of the above system making right an intuition, but making it depend The second on the perception of relations without ''''*™' defining precisely what those relations are, is too indefinite to be the basis of any system. Practically it would agree with the system which makes good ultimate, and if terms were perfectly understood, it 84 MORAL SCIENCE.. might be found that the advocates of the two sys- tems really think alike. But if, with Whewell, we make right mean " conformable to rule," we shall exclude Goncloflioiifl. ... ... . TTT 1 1- mtmtion at this pomt. We have, how- ever, only to make all rules, the supreme rule no less than others, derive their authority from ends, to find room for the moral intuition in connection with the supreme end. It is there that an ultimate analysis would carry it, and it is in connection with that, and with choice as the ultimate action of the will that we find that affirmation of obligation of which we have spoken, and in that Moral Law. CHAPTER XI. IS THE AFFIRMATION OF OBLIGATION LAW ? But the question now arises, whether the affirma- tion above spoken of would be law. When the Moral Reason affirms obhgation to choose and to do good, and to reject and abstain from doing evil, is that law ? Law, it is said, requires a lawgiver, and a penalty annexed. Something will here depend upon definition, but that it is properly law will appear (T) Afflrmaiion T, .„ f , , . . . ^ ofobUgation Because II it be not so, then it is impos- leiaw. sible that any moral being should be " a law unto himself." Animals are a law unto themselves by that un- reflective principle which we call instinct, and which beautifully typifies the operation of the moral na- ture. There is in them force, an end, and guiding power, which, as producing uniformity, must act by some rule, and so is called a law. As guiding it to its end, instinct is the law of the animal ; and, in the same way, this affirmation of obligation to choose and to promote good as his end is properly, and ought to be accepted as, the law of the man. The animal having his end chosen for bim, and having no alternative, knows the law only as an impulse ; 86 MORAL SCIENCE. but man, having comprehension, with a possible alternative, knows the law also as an idea, and the end proposed by it as the proper object of rational choice. This makes the law in man to be that of a person ; it makes it to be moral law ; and we can conceive of no other possible way in which a person can be a law unto himself. Moral, as distinguished from positive law, is that Moral law ^°^ wliicli a reason can be assigned aside "''**' from the command. To a rational being mere command can never be a reasoh for obedience except through faith. Mere command may appeal to the sensitive nature through fear, but not to reason. For one who could trace no connection between the thing commanded and his supreme end, confidence in the lawgiver as wise and good, and that alone, could make the law obligatory. Ultimate reasons for actions can be drawn only from ends, and the highest reasons from the highest ends. If then we suppose the whole end of a being to be in question, the highest possible obligation will be imposed ; and the affirmation of obligation in view of such an end will be simply the affirma- tion by reason of obligation to act reasonably. What higher end or ground of obligation can there be than the good of all beings capable of good, our- selves included? arul it is the affirmation by the Moral Reason of obligation to choose and to pro- mote this that we call Moral Law. If we may venture to speak of God in such a IS THE AFFIRMATION OF OBLIGATION LAW ? 87 connection, we can conceive of Him as acting mor- ally in no other way than this. He acts in Goda«t»in view of ends, and so rationally, but if ^«"<>'™d« his reason did not affirm obligation to choose some ends and reject others, we cannot see that He would be a moral being. So is He a law unto himself. So only can He be. So is man, who is made in his im- age, a law unto himself; and it is because man is made in his image that God proposes to him the very same end as a ground of obligation which He himself recognizes. God seeks his own glory, which is simply his perfections manifested in promoting the highest ends. He seeks to promote blessedness unselfishly and impartially. Man is to do the same, and for the same reason. The will of God does indeed come in, and the conscience is so made as to respond to that, but the ultimate ground of obli- gation is not in will as will, but in those ends, hav- ing intrinsic value, which ought to determine the wiU. • But (2) Authority is an attribute of law, and obligation as thus affirmed involves that, obligation involves It is this attribute of authority which authority. Bishop Butler specially claimed as belonging to the moral faculty, and as fitting it to legislate , , ■,. n Butler. for man. " It is," says he, " by this fac- ulty natural to man, that he is a moral agent, that he is a law to himself; by this faculty, I say, not to be considered merely as a principle in his heart which is to have some influence as well as others. 88 MORAL SCIENCE. but considered as a faculty in kind and nature supreme over all others, and which bears its owU authority of being so." And not only is there this inherent authority in the nature of obligation, but, as affirmed obligation by the reason of a creature it implies a ™^necom- divine command. In creating beings in his ""^ ' image, and in placing before them the same ends In view of which He acts, there is implied the whole authority of God as guardian of the universe for the attainment and security of those ends. This it is that makes Him a father, and his creatures children, for in a well-constituted family the father and the children act for a common end, the father from comprehension of the end, tlie children, according to their intelligence, partly from that, and partly from faith ; and no being incapable of acting for the same end as a parent can be properly a child. Again, it may be inquired whether all authority does not imply a penalty when the com- obugaaon c J r^ J implies » mands imposed by it are not obeyed. If penalty. so, then the notion of penalty, which has been thought by many to be essential to that of law, is not wanting here. That a command uttered through the constitution should announce distinc- tively its own penalty, is not, indeed, possible. As fear, when there is danger to the constitution from the violation of physical well-being, does not an- nounce the nature or extent of the penalty, but only the fact that there is one, so we might appre- OBLIGATION. 89 hend that there would be, connected with danger to moral well-being, something indicative of pen- alty, " a certain fearful looking for of judgment,'' and this we find there is. Thus do we find Moral Law. It is an affirmation through the Moral Reason of obligation to oonoiusion. choose the supreme end for which God between* made us, that is, to choose the good of all ^"^8™* beings capable of good, our own included, ^^' and to put forth all those volitions which may be required to attain or secure that good. Such a law within a man will cause him to be without excuse in the absence of positive law, and will enable him to recognize the sacredness and obligation of a code of moral laws when imposed by another. It makes him a proper subject of moral government. It is from this that the law externally revealed finds a response in every breast, and becomes its own witness that it is from God ; and if it be in- deed the true law of the conscience then can that never be at peace till it and the law are in con^ formity. If we suppose a revealed law to be iden- tical with the Moral Law in its substance, it will still differ from it in emanating from an authority with- out ourselves, and in having annexed to it a positive and specific penalty.^ > See Appendix A. CHAPTEE XL CONSCIENCE. MoKAL Reason affirms Moral Law. This makes Conscience possible. Conscience is the Definition, , ^ • ■ j? z * andfuno- moral consctousness oj man m view oj nis own actions as related to Moral Law. It is a testifying state. As the name imports, it is a double knowledge, a knowledge by the man of himself together with a knowledge of the law and as related to that. It involves a recognition by the person of the moral quahty of his own acts, and the feelings consequent upon such recognition. It affirms obligation before the act, approves or dis- approves after the act, and in doing this indicates future reward and punishment. As thus defined, Conscience is not the whole of Conscience the moral nature. The Moral Reason rec- wiioie of the oguizes Moral Law, and affirms its univer- ture. sal obligation for all moral beings.' It is the office of Conscience to bring man into personal relation to this law. It sets up a tribunal within him by which his own actions are judged, but it is under Moral Reason and not under Conscience that CONSCIENCE. 91 we judge of the conduct of others. For such judg- ment there is needed the knowledge of Moral Law, of the moral quality of actions, and the ability to compare the actions with the law. In all this is knowledge involving Moral Reason ; there is the science, but not the cow-science. There is no im- pulse, no testifying state, no self-approval or re- morse, all of which must be regarded either as a part of Conscience, or inseparable from it. In Conscience, as affirming obligation in view of good to be attained or promoted by our- congji^nj, selves, there is involved a peculiar motive y™'™ """ to action that is expressed by the word """b'''" ought. This is a motive wholly unknown to any being below man. An animal may be moved by hope, or fear, or desire, or impulse, but we have no evidence that any one ever does an act because it ought. There is no evidence that an animal ever consciously recognizes law of any kind, much less Moral Law. But the peculiar significance and bind- ing force of the word ought is from its relation to Moral Law. There is in it impulse, but also obliga- tion — the felt bond upon a rational creature, as rational, to obey the law of his being. It is solely as the interpreter of Moral Law that Conscience has authority. From that is its Authority '' ^ of Con- power to originate the word ought,- and ^j^^^-J^' whenever the mandate and impulse in- »"* "'"P"- volved in that word are truly derived from the law they are to be obeyed at all hazards. It would be 92 MORAL SCIENCE. absurd to say that anything could excuse a man from doing what he ought to do. Moral Law must be supreme. If there be not a faculty in man that recognizes moral law, he is not a moral being ; but if there be, then that law must have authority in virtue of its being law. It must be always obliga- tory and can admit of no exception. Rules, as means to an end, may admit of exception, but the great Law of Love can admit of no exception. The word ought, as has been said, implies both Obligation impulsc and obligation. These are to be distin- distinguished ; for while obligation always guished. , -. , , , . ■. limitation mvolvcs impulsc, there are yet impulses of moral i n • i impulses. from the moral nature, often too mistaken for conscience, which do not involve obligation. These are moral instincts, and were needed. Com- ing up as man does from entire ignorance, he needed in his moral nature particular tendencies and im- pulses to direct him, in a more special way than could belong to the general command of royal au- thority that must bear sway over all. Accordingly we have special impulses under such limited ideas as justice, mercy, and truth. These afford a pre- sumption in favor of the course indicated, but re- quire regulation precisely like pity, or shame, or any other spontaneous or impulsive part of our frame. Such impulses- may conflict with each other. Pity would relieve all beggars ; benevolence would say no. Justice would often punish when mercy would say no. If there were an absolute justice with no CONSCIENCE. 93 limitation from love, mercy would be impossible. Even the impulse to truth is to be so controlled that the truth is not to be spoken at all times. Be- sides, what is to prevent justice from running into revenge, or compassion from becoming weakness ? Plainly we need an authority that shall decide even among the impulses of the moral nature. This distinction between impulses towards some particular form of right action, and that impaise ■^ . cannot be general control of the Moral Reason which i»w- becomes an enlightened conscience when our own actions are concerned, has been too much over- looked. We need to make it because many con- found these particular impulses with Conscience, and great abuses have come from following them blindly. Impulse cannot be law. But if impulse be not law, we need to inquire under what conditions the decisions of Con- conscience science must be given so that the impulses ^^ *" connected with them may be safely fol- ^^*^^- lowed. In deciding this, we are to remember that the decisions of the conscience no more depend on the will than do those of the intellect. The conditions being given its action is necessitated, and we can control that action only by controlling the con- ditions. If this were not so, man would not have a moral nature. But since he can control the con- ditions, a man may be bound to have right de- cisions of his conscience precisely as he is to have right decisions of the intellect. 94 MORAL SCIENCE. Both the intellect and the conscience act in two Analogous different and analogous spheres. The conscience jSrst splierc of the intellect is that of ulti- aad Intel- \ . . ^ ., . . . .„ j leot. mate intuitions. In this it is unitorm and infallible in its judgments. That two paralled lines cannot enclose a space, and that every body must be in space, all capable of understanding the terms, will agree. So the first sphere of the conscience is that of ultimate choices, where the supreme end of man, and essential goodness and wickedness are concerned. Here Conscience is brought face to face with Moral Law, and when this is done it can decide in but one way. It cannot approve the choice of evil as evil. It cannot say, or be made to say, that malignity, which is essential wickedness, is, or can be obligatory. When the law says, " choose the good, reject the evil ; " " love God and your neighbor," Conscience must recognize this as obligatory under all circumstances, because there are no conditions, and no means can come between the conscience and the choosing. Even volition is not needed. The act of choosing is simple and ultimate. No one can teach another how to do it, and if a man do not choose the good, the cause and the fault must be in himself. jA But the good which it is the end of man to pro- Conscionce motc is seldom presented thus purelv and foUows the . ^ TO iuiigment. Simply. Heuce the need of the exertion, often of the strenuous exertion, of every faculty to discriminate it. Hence cases before the tribunal of CONSCIENCE. 96 conscience may be like those before a court, re- quiring a careful weighing of testimony and of probabilities. In such cases the question is not, it never can be. Shall we do right? Shall we do what we ought to do ? but, What is right ? What ought we to do? and in deciding this it will be found that we are really inquiring whether the course in question can be brought under the Law of Love. If not, there would be no tribunal. In these cases, and always, the moment we pass beyond the ultimate choice and supreme end to that where means are to be used, there is room for diversity of judgment. Different practices claim to come under this law of love. That claim is denied, and in the ignorance and endless confusions of this worlc it is often difficult to settle questions that thus arise. Is revenge, or polygamy, or the sale of ardent spirits right ? Is war right ? Is it right to deceive an en- emy? Here the conscience may not be fairly brought face to face with the moral law. It must follow the judgment, and that may be wrong fi-om ignorance or prejudice. Are these for the highest good of the community and of those engaged in them ? Are they accordant with the law of love ? This law every conscience will affirm that we ought to obey. Here will be uniformity. But in regard to specific practices the decisions will vary as they are supposed to be, or not to be, in accordance with the law. In this way honest, but partially in- formed persons may differ in regard to many things. 96 MORAL SCIENCE. This will not show a diversity of moral judgment, or in the action of Conscience, but simply that it will follow the judgment. But the main cause of the diversity and confusion confuBion ^^ moral judgments among men is the ^dga^ts. stupefying and bewildering effect of the *™° choosing of a wrong supreme end. When that is once done principle is abandoned, the guid- ance of Conscience is abandoned, and it immediately becomes the interest of the man to evade fair issues. The end being decided on, irrevocably so, every- thing will be viewed in false relations. The orig- inal question in regard to which Conscience is in- fallible is now put and kept out of sight, and every- thing will be judged of as right or wrong from its relation to the end chosen. In such cases Con- science will still wait on the judgment even though a wrong supreme end has been chosen. It does not approve anything as evU, but the man has said to evil, " Be thou my good," and the conscience is deceived. Thus it is that a man may come to think that he " ought to do many things contrary " to truth and righteousness, and go on acting upon false judgments which a thorough honesty would sweep wholly away. Of such honesty, or as some would call it, sin- sincerity cerity, the ultimate point is that a man coaditional . « foreniight- put himself face to face with the Moral ened coa- -*■ science. Law, and the whole of it — that, as our Saviour says, he should " come to the light." Let CONSCIENCE. 97 this be done, and the moral consciousness will re- spond rightly, and the impulse connected with such response will have legitimate and sovereign author- ity. The simple question is. Has God so revealed the Moral Law in man that he can he a law unto himself? If so, Conscience must be the moral con- sciousness in presence of that law, and all mandates and impulses from that consciousness must be authoritative, or there is, and can be, no law. Such impulses will be rational and moral, and a conscience so acting will be an enlightened conscience. But if the moral being, the person, turn wholly from the law, if he choose a wrong su- iiesuit of a ' _ ^ ° want of sin- preme end, then is the seat itself of author- ««"'y- ity corrupted. He turns from the ark of God and the tables of the law to the worship of idols. There is now no rightful authority. There is anarchy. The law being set aside, the very condition of a right moral consciousness is wanting. " Unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing pure ; but even their mind and conscience is de- filed." The man is lost. The light that was in him has become darkness, and " how great is that darkness." If a man would have " a good con- science," he must first be "in all things willing to live honestly." What we say, then, on this subject is, — 1st, thai when the conscience is fairly brought face to face with the Moral Law, the great law 98 MOKAL SCIENCE. of love, its decisions will be uniform and authorita- tiye. 2d. That persons may honestly differ respecting the means of fulfilling the Moral Law, one approving as right what another disapproves as wrong. And 3d. That when once a wrong supreme end has been chosen no consistency or uniformity of judg- ment can be expected. " Even their mind and con- science is defiled." We have thus considered Conscience in its double nature, as both rational and impulsive. That it has a nature thus double has always made it difficult of investigation ; but only through such a faculty, con- ditioned on a sensibihty, were moral law and ade- quate motive power possible. DIVISION n. OF LOVE. CHAPTER I. RATIONAL LOVE : ITS CHARACTERISTICS AND SPHERE. Having now considered the nature and relations of Law, particularly of Moral Law, we turn to those of Love. Like law, love is a term of great breadth and variety in its application ; like that too, it lotb, an 11... 1 . Inclusivo includes m its lowest use mere things term, without sensibility. We are said to love food, money, books, fame. Thus used it includes only the element of desire, which is common to love in all its forms, but does not constitute it. The com- mon element of law is uniformity, produced or commanded. The common element of love is de- sire, and its common result an inclination towards, or complacency in the object loved. In this appli- cation of it moral science has no more to do with love than it has with law as applied to matter. 100 MORAL SCIENCE. There is also an instinctive love, sometimes called Instinctive natural affection. This is common to ani- '°™- mals and to man. It is from the emotive nature simply, and so, blind and passionate, not comprehending itself or its object. As instinctive, it is an affection which leads to acts often of great apparent self-denial, which tend to promote or secure the end of the being loved. It tends to secure that^ and not the end of the being putting forth the love, and is thus a beautiful type of a higher rational and disinterested love. This rational love s^lways has its root in a generic choice. It is by having its root in such a choice that rational and moral love, and indeed all rational and moral affections, are distinguished from those that are natural. In accordance with the above, rational love pre- Rationai supposes a knowledge of the supreme end '""• of the being loved, and involves the choice for him of that end. Its object must be a person. In strictness we desire things, but love only per- sons. It is not properly a disposition, though a disposition and a habit of acting so as to secure the end chosen will be generated by any generic act of choice. Only a rational being can have a supreme end, and the choice by us of that end for another so as to be willing to put forth efforts and mate sacrifices for its attainment is rational love. In the whole process and formation of this love BiementBof three things are to be distinguished, rational There is (1) a perception of worth as RATIONAL LOVE. 101 distinguished from worthiness. This involves an appreciation of the capahihties, and also of the ha- bilities of the being, and can be, only as we know his end, the desirableness of his attaining it, and the fearfulness of his not doing so. This is rather a condition of love than one of its elements. There is (2) a " propension " of mind, as Edwards calls it, towards the being, and a desire that he should attain his end. This is an indispensable element of love, but not the love itself. It is spontaneous, and may be overcome by other forms of spontane- ous action. That it may become rational love there must be (3) a choice for the being of his end, and such a devotement of ourselves to him — that is, to the attainment by him of his end and good, — that we shall be willing to make sacrifices for it as we would for our own. It is this last only which constitutes the whole process, rational and free, and brings it under the control of Moral Law.^ From this general character of rational love we see at once what self-love and benevo- seif-iove lence must be, and their relations to each lence. other. Self-love is the choice by any being of his own legitimate good. It is the choice for himself of the good that must come from the activity of his powers in the pursuit and enjoyment of his supreme end. Benevolence is the choice and will that other beings shall attain their own legitimate good, that is, the good that must come to them from the activ- 1 See Appendix B. 102 MORAL SCIENCE. itv of their powers in the pursuit of their supreme end. In its lower forms benevolence is manifested by so controlling all sensitive beings within our power, and incapable of choosing their end, that that end shall be attained; and in its higher form, by seek- ing to induce all who are capable of choosing their own end to choose it. The measure of benevolence is the amount of effort and self-sacrifice that any one is willing to put forth and endure that others may attain their end. Rational love as a whole will then include a choice by us for all other beings of their end and good, and for ourselves of our own end and good. It will also include the necessary volitions and activities for the attainment of those ends. In the above statement it will be seen that the Self-love point of uniou between self-love and be- r^^e'har-"" nevolcncc is the common element of good, moniied. ^jj^^. jg^ ^f |.jjg^^ g^g their object which is valuable in itself, and that through this they con- stitute the one whole of rational love. Hence the ground of obligation for self-love and benevolence is the same ; and hence, too, there can never be opposition between them. On the contrary, they are conspiring forces, not only as having a common object, but as mutually contributing to each other. That form of activity by which we promote the good of others, is, more than any other, promotive of our own good. RATIONAL LOVE. 103 From a failure to perceive this narmony, or rather unity in the parts of one whole, much use- less discussion and some pernicious systems have arisen. That this union should be seen and acted on is one of the great wants of the world. CHAPTER n. COMPLACENT LOVE AND RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION. Befoee leaving the topic of love, it ought to be First indi- ^dded, that, subsequent to rational love, oTraUonai ^^^ made possible by it, are certain indi- '°™- rect results ; and first, the love of compla- cency. This is not the love commanded by God, since that includes love to the wicked, and even to our enemies. It is conditioned, not on being as having capacity for good and evil, but as having ■will and choosing rightly. Its condition is moral excellence in the person beloved, and it also implies moral excellence in the person loving. It is not approbation or admiration. These may be felt by the wicked. It is delight and joy in view of the beauty of holiness, and a sympathy with its pos- sessor by which we are united in affection to him. This is among the highest and most delightful of the affections, and will be one great element of the joy of heaven, but it differs from rational love in being not so much a choice as an emotion, or rather it is choice in connection with all that makes emo- tion delightfiil. This emotion, which is what is commonly meant by the love of complacency, is (104) COMPLACENT LOVE AND RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION. 105 one of those spontaneous and uniform results of generic choice of which I have spoken, which is not the direct product of will, but for which we are responsible. And not only are the love of complacency and the affections cognate with that made second indi- possible by rational love, but also right- '*'" """"• eous indignation and the affections cognate with that. These involve no malignity. They are but the necessary evolution of rational love when its ends are imperilled by wickedness. They are neces- sary to the authority of law, and to the guardian- ship of the rights and interests of the universe. The interests at stake in God's universe are un- speakably precious. As these are apprehended and valued, the worthiness and beauty of an impartial and entire consecration to them are more seen, and so also are the unworthiness and baseness of a dis- regard of them, or opposition to them, and just so intense as the approbation and the admiration may be on the one hand, must the condemnation and abhorrence be on the other. It is this double as- pect of love, revealing the whole moral nature, and turning in every way like the flaming sword that kept the way of the tree of life, that is termed holiness. DIVISION m. THE LAW OF LOVE. CHAPTER I. HOW LOVE BECOMES LAW. We have thus seen what Moral Law and Rational Love are. Moral Law is the necessary affirmation by the Moral Reason of obligation to choose and promote well-being. If we suppose a choice or an action that can have no bearing upon well-being, it is impossible to conceive of obligation to make the choice or perform the action. Neither can be right or wrong. But if any choice or action will promote well-being, Moral Law will demand that the choice be made or the action done. But it is this very choice that is the central element of the love demanded, for rational love is the choice by us of the supreme end and good of another, invol- ving a readiness to make sacrifices for that end and good as we would for our own. Hence it is that " Love is the fiilfilling of the law," the very thing it requires. In this view of it there is a double motive foi (106) HOW LOVE BECOMES LAW. 107 the choice of good, one the imperative of law, the other the intrinsic value and attraction „ ., Double mo- of good. If there were not in this in- "^oi^o*' trinsic value, aside ft om the affirmation of *°°*' obligation, a reas(m why good should be chosen, oWigation must base itself upon nothing, and could not be rationally affirmed. No one can be under obligation to anything for which there is not, aside from the obligation, more reason than there is against it. The thing required is the choice of a supreme end and commitment to it. This may be done from the imperative of law, or from the at- traction of good, or from their combined effect, the whole nature thus conspiring to induce that love in which must be found our own highest good, and through which alone we can do good to others. Being the rational choice of good, love can never become a bondage, though it be required by an im- perative, but it is only when the choice is so abso- lute in view of the good that the imperative comes in bimply as a conspiring force swelling the current and adding the joy of self-approbation, that there is perfect freedom. Let the imperative be in view of an object approved by reason, and attractive of every rational affection, and the consent of the soul will be that of a young heart affiancing itself to the object of its choice. It will be Reason choosing rationally with no disturbing influence, and that is perfect freedom. It is a rational creature putting forth every energy with perfect love under a per- fect law. 108 MORAL SCIENCE. Thus it is that love as obligatory is the law of Love, the our being. In substance, and as express- imperative ° T • T_ in Gr.d'3 ing his inmost nature, Love is the one word and in ° i i /~l j • l niiin. imperative word uttered by brod m the Bible. It is also the one imperative word uttered jy Him through the constitution and conscience of man, and in the coincidence of these two utter- ances we find a perfect proof that both are from Him. Law and Love ! These are the two mightiest • forces in '■he universe, and thus do we marry them. The place of the nuptials is in the innermost sanctuary of the soul. As in all right marriage, there is both contrariety and deep harmony. Law is stern, majestic, and the fountain of all order. Love is mild, winning, the fountain of all rational spontaneity, that is of the spontaneity that follows rational choice. Love without law is capricious, weak, mischievous ; opposed to law, it is wicked. Law without love is unlovely. The high- est harmony of the universe is in the love of a I'ational being that is coincident with the law of that being rationally affirmed ; and the deepest possible jar and discord is from the love, persistent and utter, of such a being in opposition to his law. It is be- cause there is in the Divine Being this harmony of law with love that He is perfect. It is because this harmony is required in the Divine government that that is perfect, and no philosophy for the regulation of human conduct can be both vital and safe in HOW LOVE BECOMES LAW. 109 which that same union is not consummated. In our philosophies, generally, this is not done. Let it be done, and philosophy will no longer be com- plained of as inefficient or skeptical ; it will work with power and in harmony with the Bible. Such a union is demonstrably the only condition of per- fection for the individual or for society, and when it sliall be universally consummated, the Millen- niam will have come. CHAPTER n. THE RELATION OF LOVE TO OTHEB. DUTIES. Having now seen what the Law of Love is, we Love in- need to see how it connects itself with spe- oiflc duties, cific dutics. Lovc is sometimes said to be the sum of all our duties, and that it does include them in some sense the Scriptures assert when they say that " Love is the fulfilling of the law." But how does love include other duties ? Is it by a process of generalization, as we group a great number of individuals under the one term animal? So some think, making each virtue a part of love. Others say that a generaliza- tion so wide as to include under a single name and vir- tue all others, as justice, mercy, truth, temperance, etc., becomes indefinite and valueless ; and besides that we are conscious of other moral ideas, and of judging immediately and intuitively under them in a way to preclude this view. Thus it is said that we are immediately conscious of obligation to tell the truth without conscious or actual reference to any law of love. This difficulty we obviate by observing the rela- tion of primitive ideas to our subsequent thinking. THE RELATION OF LOVE TO OTHER DUTIES. 11] As we have seen, moral action implies the activity of each of the three great departments of Difficulty our nature, the Intellect, the Sensibility, o"™"*- and the Will, and each of these fiarnishes an ultimate idea always involved in such action. From the in- tellect, in the form of reason pure, we have the idea of existence, from the sensibility that of good, and from the will that of freedom. In the department of intellect we have as the condition of all other ideas, whether intui- in intellect . , „ . ,1 • 1 p » conditional tional or from experience, the idea or ex- laea. istence. We then have, not as generalized from it, but as conditioned and regulated by it, the idea, let us say, of our personal identity. Involved in this are the two ideas of existence and of time, and wherever the idea of personal identity goes that of ex- istence and of time must go with it. It can no more outrun or transcend them than the shadow can out- run its substance, and yet it has a similar source as an idea of reason, and is, within its sphere, the basis of immediate and necessary judgments. This is true of other necessary ideas, as of causation and resemblance, all of which have their conditions and subordinations. And the same is true of moral ideas. The char- acteristic of these is that they presuppose a condi- ,, r. . -IP tional idea a person capable oi actmg with reterence in morals. to an end that includes a good. They all imply freedom, and a good in some sensibility to be en- joyed. It is the idea, necessarily affirmed, of 112 MORAL SCIENCE. obligation to choose and impartially promote this good that holds the same place among moral ideas that the idea of existence does among those of piire reason. The idea of existence is awakened by the first object we know, and enters unchanged into our conception of every new object till we reach that of an illimitable and infinitely diversified universe. This is by no generalization, no gathering of the many into one, but by the transfusion of the one idea into the many. The idea of existence as an idea cannot change, but our conception of actual and possible existence may be illimitably enlarged. So it is with the idea of good. It arises from This condi- the first normal activity of the sensibility, tional idea ^ ^ , ^ t . . , uiatofgood. and travels with us as we discnmmate its various kinds, just as we do the various kinds of existence, till we reach the conception of a perfect and absolute good for God and his creatures. Hav- ing thus the idea of good, and of obligation to love, that is, of the Law of Love, under that, we can then have the idea, let us say of justice, as conditioned upon the idea of that wider obligation, and as al- ways carrying that with it. Entering into it as a conditioning idea, love will be so a part of justice that justice can never go counter to love, or to any other of the virtues, into all of which, as a part, love must thus, and equally, enter. As it is the presence of the idea of being that enables us to assert anything under the ideas of identity or re- THE RELATION OF LOVE TO OTHER DUTIES. 113 semblance, so it is the presence of good that enables us to assert any obligation under justice or truth. As in this sense under love, and partaking of it as conditioned upon it, there is room for Duties how 1 p ,n 1 . 1 n deduced any number ot specifac moral ideas, as or from love. justice, mercy, veracity, and for the affirmation of immediate obligation under them within their sphere, while yet that obligation will be limited by the conditioning idea that gave to each particular idea its leave to be. The idea of justice is a moral idea. It is an idea of a mode of action in which the interests of persons are involved. It is not the same as the idea of love or of benevolence, nor is it, as some have asserted, an attribute of benevo- lence. It is as independent of love as the idea of identity is of that of existence, but no more ; and the judgments under the one are as immediate as those under the other. Still its very existence and sphere are determined by the wider idea of good and of obligation to choose that ; and though jus- tice must do its " strange work," it will yet cease to be justice and become tyranny if it ceases to have its root in love and its limit from that. We thus find provision for that comprehensive- ness of love which is attributed to it in in. I 1 i» 1 . Oonclusion. the Dcnptures, and also tor those imme- diate impulsions which arise in connection with specific moral ideas, but which are yet to be tested and limited by their relations to the wider law, — to that, indeed, which alone is absolute law 8 CHAPTER in. RECONCIUATION OF SYSTEMS. Feom the general views above given it is obvious how impossible it must be to construct a complete system of morals that is either wholly intuitional, or wholly teleological. Intuitional systems have their basis in the Moral Reason ; teleological sys- tems have their basis in the Sensibility ; but as the products of the Moral Reason are conditioned upon those of the Sensibility, it is clear that the ideas from each must be inseparably intertwined in any system. Failing to see that a theory of action for the whole man — the highest form of his activity, must be based on his whole nature, the advocates of the in- tuitional system have sought to construct a theory from the intellect alone. Finding the ideas of ob- ligation, right, justice, in their place as essential and ineradicable parts of our frame, they have not sufficiently noticed their dependence upon a Sensi- bility, and their nature as involving feeling. The advocates of teleological systems, on the other hand, have often, like Paley, and with the whole school of experience, either denied altogether or questioned the existence of moral intuitions, failing to see the EECONCILIATION OF SYSTEMS. 116 impossibility of morality at all without them. But if we admit on the one liand-that a Sensibility, and its products in so?ne form, are the necessary con- dition of moral ideas ; and on the other that there are moral ideas that are regulative in their sphere as tliose of the pure reason are in theirs, we have materials for a system in which the demands of the Reason and of the Sensibility are both met. The Will acting from the combined light and warmth of the two will have both impulse and guidance, and that circle of interdependence heretofore spoken of will be complete. It has been supposed that either goodness, or a good — holiness, or happiness — must be ultimate in a moral system. The truth is, each is ultimate. Goodness is wholly from the Will, and ultimate for that. It is the impartial choice of good, and can be goodness only from its relation to that. A good, on the other hand, is wholly from the Sensibility, and is ultimate for that. It can have no moral quality. When we say holy happiness, we simply mean happiness from holiness. Goodness is good in itself — intrinsically so. It is worthy of appro- bation on its own account. It is the only thing that can be commanded or approved. A good, on the other hand, is a good in itself — intrinsically a good. It is valuable on its own account. It is the only thing that has intrinsic value, and all good things are good from their relation to this. We have thus an ultimate goodness, but possible only on 116 MORAL SCIENCE. the condition of an ultimate good. It is the very choice of good by the Will that is inlmediately known as goodnessi It is the blessedness accompanying this choice that is immediately known as a good, and the highest good. Thus is there from the very action of the will the highest form of sensibility. Thus do the Sensibility and the Will each contribute its equally independent and indispensable part to the one moral system. In what is said above, goodness is used as synony- mous with holiness. They are the same except that holiness indicates goodness, more especially in its aspect towards wickedness. Perhaps the relation of the ideas in question, to- Good and gether with the anlbiguities of the word goodnesa good, as originating both from the Sensi- bility and the Will, may be illustrated thus : — {Goodness. Good. — A good man, as choosing good, and producing it volun- tarily. Person = i Sensibility ) A Good. Good.— A good apple, as pro- ( ducing good involuntarily. .Intellect Bational Ideas. When therefore the Scriptures say, " Acqiiaint now thyself with Him and be at peace : thereby good shall come unto thee ; " they must refer to a product of the Sensibility. When an eminent writer says, " I hold that there is an inherent and essen- tial distinction between good and evil, just as there is between truth and falsehood,"^ he must refer to 1 Dr. McCosh, Pres. Beview, No. 63, J). 7. RECONCILIATION OF SYSTEMS. 117 a product of the Will, and can only mean that there is an inherent and essential difference between goodness and wickedness. Moral Science must be based on the facts of our nature. Those facts no man has stated more accurately than Bishop Butler, and the system contained in the present work is that which I suppose those facts, as stated by him, not only justify, but require. Butler stated facts, but framed no system for the reconciliation of those seemingly discrepant. No man asserted more strenuously than he the direct approval by con- science of certain actions irrespective of conse- quences. That he saw as a fact. And yet he says, " It may be allowed without any prejudice to the cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and misery are of all our ideas the near- est and most important to us ; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought to prevail over those of order, and beauty, and harmony, and proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossible there ever should be, any inconsistence between them."^ This he saw as another fact, that is, he saw the ex- istence of an ought from this source that must domi- nate over all others, if conflict were possible. Again lie says, " Though virtue, or moral rectitude does mdeed consist in affection to and pursuit of what is right and good as such, yet when we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to ourselves this, 1 Sennon XI. 118 MORAL SCIENCE. or any other pursuit till we are convinced that it will be for our happiness, or at least not contrary to it." 1 These facts involve the relation of virtue to happiness which has always been the insoluble point, or at least the chief point of division, in moral science. The facts Butler saw, but did not attempt to harmonize them into a system, and so, like all broad and fair-minded men thus situated, may be fairly claimed by opposing systems so long as the true system in which these must unite is not seen. Such a uniting system may be found, if we make the Sensibility a condition for moral ideas, and if we make a distinction between conscience as an impulse and as a law ; and I see no other way. In speaking of the relation of the Sensibility to the moral nature, we have hitherto re- Good as a garded it chiefly as conditional for the ac- nirortobc tion of that nature. And from this view '^"<^<^- of it, it will follow that the moral nature can never require the sacrifice of good as a whole. Good is the product of the Sensibility, the ultimate idea having its origin in that. If there be nothing good in itself, there can be no ultimate choice, no supreme end, and no obligation. Good being thus the occasion on which obligation is affirmed, it is absurd to say that there can be obligation to obey a law when the result of obedience, as such, would be misery ; and no one can rationally encounter misery in any form except on the faith of an ultimate good. I Sermon XI. CHAPTER IV. OTHER RELATIONS OF THE SENSIBILITT TO THB MORAL NATURE. But the Sensibility has other relations to the moral nature, besides being a condition for its ac- tion, and no theory of morals can be complete if these are not understood. And first there is a sensibility originating in the activity of the moral nature itself, and, as gj^sjhiuty it seems to us, inseparable fi-om that ac- t^e^"*^* '" tivity. The moral nature would cease to °»'""- be what it is if the fulfirment of obligation were fol- lowed by no complacency, and its violation by no remorse or sense of degradation. It is through this form and kind of sensibility that we are capable of our highest enjoyment and suffering, that indeed which belongs to us as moral beings. Being thus the necessary product of our natures in its modes of voluntary activity, and not directly dependent on the will of another, the enjoyment and suffering coming thus are not properly reward and punish- ment. They are not a bestowment or infliction, but a part of our being in its necessary action as so constituted. It is this relation of a sensibility thus 120 MORAL SCIENCE. originated that gives to the individual his indepen dence of external circumstances, and that lays fullj upon him. the responsibility for his own essential well-being. But besides the sensibility thus inherent in a Sensibiuty moral nature, and dependent directly upon Bources. cholce without volition even, there is also a sensibility in a great variety of forms from other sources than the moral nature, and for the gratifica- tion of which most actions are done. From this both good and evil may come to us through our own voluntary actions, through the actions of others, or through dispensations of Providence over which we have no control. As it is not within this sphere that our supreme end lies, and as those only are moral acts which respect the supreme end, we are under no obligation to have any particular amount or kind of good from it, and if this alone be in ques- tion, are free to choose or reject, to exert ourselves or not with reference to it. Any sensibility not from the moral nature may This last bscome its adjuvant. Its impulsions and conflict with solicitations may coincide with the require- the moral pi^yriT nature. monts 01 the Moral Law, and the momen- tum of joyful activity may be thus increased. Any such sensibility may also be used to tempt or to force the will to act in opposition to moral law. Here is the double nature of man, and the ground of the conflict between the flesh and the spirit. He that consecrates himself to the obedience of moral law is of the spirit ; and he that gives himself up to the OTHER RELATIONS OF THE SENSIBILITY. 121 control of any impulse or solicitation, or principle of action uncontrolled by moral law, is of the flesh. It is also only through a sensibility not from the moral nature that there can be reward in these the 1 . . . , sanctions of and punishment m any proper sense, and government, so government as distinguished from influence. Clearly there can be no government where there is no dependence on the will of another, and no fear from the action of that will in case of disobedience. To some it seems low and mercenary to be influ- enced by this form of sensibility, but it cannot be low or mercenary to be influenced by that which alone can be the sanction of government, and which comes not alone, but as an expression of the approbation or disapprobation of a perfect moral governor. It cannot be low or mercenary to desire and seek for a good that is an end in itself, and that is so in- herent in a sensibility given by God as to be of its very essence when it is in right action. I wiU only add that where moral order reigns good from all forms of sensibility is distrib- j^^,^ uted according to character ; that though a ^ygijf°t * man may be called to oppose for a time his *"'y- moral convictions to all that he can suffer through natural sensibility, yet that this cannot be permanent under a righteous moral government ; and that the good of each is so a part of the whole that obligation on the part of any individual to sacrifice his own highest good for the sake of that whole is not only impossible, but, as impairing the very ground on which obligation is affirmed, is absurd. ' PART n. — *— LOVE AS A LAW. PRACTICAL MORALS. LOVE AS A LAW. PRELIMINAET STATEMENT. If we -would conduct life by philosophy, it is not enough to know its law and its end. We must also know how to apply that law, and to reach that end. We need both parts of that perfect wisdom which it is the part of moral science to teach. Perfect wis- dom consists in the choice of the best ends, and of the best means to attain them. What belongs to the first part we have considered. Love is our general principle and primal wisdom ; but specific duties will depend on a knowledge of our nature and relations. If we are to direct forces, or to use instruments, we must know what those forces and instruments are. If there are in us different kinds of powers, or forms of activity, and so, possible forms of good, or if there are limitations within which the powers must act, these we need to know. Hence we proceed to a brief statement of the nature, relations, and limitations of our powers. Ist. The Powers. For the purposes of moral science the powers are 126 MORAL SCIENCE. divided into those that are Govekning, and those that are Instrumental. The governing powers are those which ought to govern. They are those by which we elect and sanction ends, and through and in the activity of which we find ends beyond which there are no others. They are : — Moral Reason, including Conscience, The Moral Affections, and Self-love. By these the man ought to be governed, but in strictness the only governing power is the man himself, the inscrutable Peeson, the being whc wills and acts. The Instrumental Powers are : — The Instincts, The Appetites, The Desires, and The Natural Affections. These indicate ends. To these we add The Intellect, in the light of which we apprehend and pursue ends. 2d. The Forms of Activity/. Of each class of powers there are two forms of androSin™ activity, the spontaneous and the volun- tt^T tary. The spontaneous activities are the condition of those that are voluntary ; through them we have a knowledge of ourselves ; they give impulse, and their action may become temptation. In its original and pure form sponta- neous action involves no responsibility. It is the PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 127 realm into which rational and voluntary agency is put for its subjugation, direction, and culture. Voluntary activity is choice itself, and all action that is determined by choice. It is the condition of moral quality in acts, and of responsibility. There are also two forms of activity as related to good, giving us two forms of that. These snscepa- are indicated by the words susceptibilities powers. and powers, that point to a distinction running through the whole frame, physical and mental. In our physical constitution there is a double set of nerves, like the double track of a railway ter- minating in a metropolis. In this< provision is made for action upon us from without inward, which terminates in sensation ; and for action by us from within outwards, which originates in volition. We are thus acted upon and we act ; we receive and we give. We receive first and as a condition of giving, and there is good in that ; but it is higher and more blessed to give than to receive. In the upward movement of forces in the uni- verse as conditioning and conditioned those gj^ ^^^ below simply give. They are wholly for "™'^'°8- the sake of those above till we come to organization. In all organization the action is circular. While the higher is built up by the lower, and is sustained by it, as the brain by the stomach, it yet reacts upon that lower, and becomes in its turn essential to that. Any action here, however, from the higher to the lower is simply to sustain the lower in its place and ftmction as tributary, never to elevate it 128 MORAL SCIENCE. out of that place. But when we reach society re- garded as organic, and which an organic bodj typifies, the object of action from above is to ele- vate the lower to an equality with the higher. This may be done selfishly from a perception of the inseparable connection in the divine economy of the welfare of the two ; or it may be done benevolently, and only for the sake of the lower. This is the highest and most blessed form of giving. So God gives. Through both these forms of activity there are Pleasure enjoyment and growth. Through both indjoy. ^ distinct form of good. Through the susceptibilities, the passivities, the movement from without inward, we have pleasure ; through the activities, the choices, the volitions, the movement from within outward, we have joy, happiness, blessedness. And as these forms of good are different in their origin, so are they in their quality. By the one we are allied to the animals, by the other to the angels. For the one we are dependent upon circumstances, for the other upon choice. It is in this division of our nature and of the Two direo- fonus of good that we find the ground of MtiTity. the two great directions of human activity. The prevalent tendency in men is to remain in in- dolent passivity, enjoying the good there is in- im- pressions from without, or, if they act, doing so for the sake of those impressions. This, with such sur- roundings as may be imagined, would give a Mo- PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 129 Dammedan Paradise. But it is possible for man to subordinate all passive impressions, and all pleasure from them, to some form of the activities. It is possible for him to do this in building up the spirit in greater efficiency in holy activity. In this, with its appropriate conditions and surroundings, is the essential idea of the Christian heaven. We have spontaneous and voluntary activity ; we have susceptibilities and powers. From some form and combination of these the good of man must come. Shall they act promiscuously, or is there provision made for subordination and order ? This leads us to consider — Sd. The Law of Limitation. The basis for such a law is found in that relation of forces and of faculties as conditioning and con- ditioned which gives its unity to the universe, which is always perfectly regarded in nature, and without regard to which by man there can be in his life no harmony. Of this law, which is more ftdly ex- plained in the Third Lecture on Moral Science, only an outline can be given here. The great forces of inorganic matter are three : — 1. Gravitation. 2. Cohesion. 3. Chemical Affinity. The forms of life, a higher form of force, are three : — 1. Vegetable Life. 130 MORAL SCIENCE. 2. Animal Life. 3. Rational Life. This brings us to man. In studying him we find that the great divisions of the body, according to its ftinctions, are three : — 1. Those for building and repairing. 2. Those for support and locomotion. 3. Those for sensation and volition. The great divisions and functions of the mind are three : — 1. Intellect. 2. Feeling. 3. Will. This gives us four groups, and their relation will be best seen if we arrange them in two, thus, put- ting those below which are lower : — Rational Life, Will, Animal Life, Sensibility, Vegetable Life, Intellect, Chemical AfSnity, Sensation and Volition, Cohesion, Support and Locomodon, Gravitation, Building and Repairing. In the first double group we have general forces ; in the second we have man ; but in each the lower is a condition for the higher, and this gives us the rank not only of the forces but of their products. In all cases a force, or faculty, or product is lower than another when it is a condition for it. From this the law of limitation is deduced, which is, that no force or faculty may act beyond the point where PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 131 it ceases to be a condition for the best action of that which it conditions, and which is thus above it. This law will hold till we reach the action of the highest power, which, not being the condition for anything above it, has no limit except the capacity of that power. From the above law we may readily deduce both the natural and the Christian law of self- Natural and denial. The natural law presupposes ia^"^J'Sf- powers unimpaired, and requires no sup- *'°'*'" pression or limitation in the action of any power that would not interfere with the best action of some power above it. The Christian law pre- supposes moral evil, malady, derangement, but re- quires no suppression or limitation of action which would not interfere with the elimination of evil in ourselves or others, and the restoration of the powers to their normal condition. The above distinctions and divisions will be essentially involved in the following practical part ; and as they have not hitherto been distinctly in- corporated into our systems of morals, an explicit statement of them seemed to be required. I. LOVB AS A lAW DISTINGUISHKD FROM THE LAW OF LOVE. Having considered the Law of Love and made the needful preliminary statements, we now proceed to love as a law. We inquire what love, working under the law of limitation, would require men to do. According to the Scriptures, " Love is the fulfilling of the law." Hence the Law of Love and of obhgation or duty are coincident. The reason is that love is that which the law requires, and with which, if love be perfect, it is satisfied. This is conceded, or at least not denied, by wri- ters on morals ; and yet when specific duties are to be deduced, they either do it wholly from the stand-point of conscience and not of love, or incon- sistently, from love out of regard to the Scriptural law. But accepting the Scriptural doctrine, be- lieving that the Law of Love covers the domain of morals, we proceed to inquire what that law re- quires. This inquiry it will be observed is wholly deduc- tive. In all inquiries respecting duties except the highest, there are two orders of questions: The LOVE AS A LAW. 183 first asks, What ought to be done ? The second, How ought it to be done ? To the broadest pos- sible " What ? " on this subject, but one answer can be given. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself." This is the law of love. As a spiritual act, it is the primal wisdom, and, corresponding to it there is no " How ? " No one can explain to another how to love, because the love is a primitive act, and no means can intervene. Thus regarded love is an act and a choice, and as rational must itself have a motive. LoTeasan act and aa a There must be a reason on the ground motiye. of which love may be demanded by the con- science. That reason, as we have seen, is the worth of being, or its capacity of good and evil. But the act having been done, the generic choice having been made, love becomes a motive in all sub- sequent acts. The first and great question is, What does the law demand ? To this the reply is. Love. The second question is. What does Love demand ? And to every " What ? " here, there is a " How ? " Or, if we please, all questions of this order may be comprised in one, — How shall the demands of love be carried out ? It is in morals as in astronomy. In that we first find the law, and then apply it. The law being given, we inquire at what time the sun and moon ought to be in such relation as to produce an eclipse. This inquiry is of a difierent order from those which 134 MORAL SCIENCE. have it for their object to find the law, or the rea- sons of it. If we suppose, with Kepler, each planet to be accompanied by an angel, whose busi- ness it is to see that its radius vector shall describe equal areas in equal times, all the inquiries and efforts of the angel might have relation solely to that result ; but without understanding both the law and the reasons of it, he could know nothing of the philosophy of the heavens. Failing to distinguish, at this point, as most have LoTe as douc, between love as an act demanded by choice and , , i • m as emotion, the consciencc and itselt requirmg a mo- tive, and love as the motive of subsequent sub- ordinate acts and demanding them, we fall into confusion. In the one case we have the law of love ; in the other love as a law. In the first case the main element of the love is choice^ rather than emotion. In the second the choice is implied, but emotion seems more prominent. In the first the choice is like the body of the sun, in itself dark ; in the second it is like the same body with the elements of light and heat and beauty gathered and floating around it. Over the subordinate inquiries arising under love Office of ^ * ^^^i the conscience must watch, de- anrSte" manding not only perfect uprightness and "'' candor, but such painstaking in informing the judgment as to secure that secondary wisdom which more often bears the name, and by which 1 See Bac. Sermon, 1861. LOVE AS A LAW. 135 means are adapted to ends. But while the con- science must keep watch of the processes, the pro- cesses themselves are carried on by the intellect. The great work of the conscience is done in an- swering the first question, and in holding the will in the form of choice up to a perfect correspond- ence with the law. Subsequently its work will be to bring subordinate choices and specific volitions into conformity with the generic choice, and in doing so, questions that will be relatively principal and subordinate, the " What? " and the " How ? " will constantly arise. Accepting then the law of love, we shall need to inquire, what in the several departments of duty does that law require, and how are those requirements to be carried ont? II. CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES. In answering the above questions, a classification of duties is needed. In this we shall be guided by that principle of sub- Principie of ordinatiou, on which the law of limitation tion. is based, as stated in the third of the Lectures on Moral Science. It is as true of duties as it is of forces, faculties, and enjoyments, that those are lower which are conditional for others. But are some duties conditional for others ? First de- The Condition of good work is a good in- EoYe. strument, of good fruit a good tree ; and of doing good to others, and glorifying God, a good man. Our first and lowest duty will then respect* our own state, including both disposition and capacity. The first and imperative demand of love is, that we secure those conditions in ourselves, by which our power to do good will be the greatest. We thus reach our first class of duties under oflutier *^® ^^^ °^ love. They are those which ^?eT.' ""'" respect ourselves. They respect either CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES. 137 onr own state or condition ; and till we reach ab- solute perfection, will have for their object a change for the better in one or the other of these. They are not distinctively duties to ourselves, though involving all that has commonly been regarded as such ; but will include everything possible to en- able us to benefit others and glorify God. Hence they will be held as duties, not so much from regard to ourselves, as on other and higher grounds. The SECOND CLASS or duties are those to our fellow men. These will have for their ob- second eiass' ject, until they reach perfection, a change ourfeiiOTr for the better, either in their state or condi- '°™' tion. That these are lower than our duties to God will probably be conceded, but are they condi- jiiese con- tional for them ? In a sense they are. ^""duuS' Whatever may be said of an innate or '°*'°*' connate idea of God, and of duty to him as all-per- vasive, it is true that practically, and in a normal state, the parent would be known before God, and that God would be known through him. The sig- nificance of " Our Father which art in heaven," is reached only through a knowledge of what a father on earth is ; and our duties to the earthly, typify those to the heavenly Father, and prepare us for them. But besides this priority of time, and so a condi- tioning from the order in which the faculties are developed, duties may be so related that one cannot 138 MORAL SCIENCE. be consistently or acceptably performed except on the condition that another has been. One who de- frauds another may not bestow charity upon him. He must be just before he is generous. In the same way immediate duties to God so imply those to men, that a man is in no condition to do the former who has not done the latter. This requires attention. It is the essence of No religion superstition, and has been the curse of the morauty. race, to frame something called religion that could be gone through with formally, and be rested on for salvation, to the neglect of the love of man, and the duties from that. Hence we need to emphasize the impossibility of religion without moral- ity. This the Scriptures do both in the Old Testa- ment and the New. " I," says God, " hate robbery for a burnt-offering." " When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you, yea when ye make many prayers I will not hear ; your hands are full of blood ; wash ye, make you clean, put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes ; cease to do evil, learn to do well ; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the father- less, plead for the widow." " If," says the Saviour, " thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there re- memberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar and go thy way ; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift." " If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar. For CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES. 139 he who loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen ? " This view cannot be too strongly enforced, and ought to enter into the substance of every treatise on duty. As prior then in time, and as prerequisite for ac- ceptable worship, our duties to our fellowmen are conditional for our duties to God. Our THIRD CLASS OF DUTIES will be those to- wards God. These are higher than any other because of their object, of the higher faculties involved, ihw class; and because they imply all the others. God. If the love of man be first, as it would be in a child growing up normally, it will be conditional for that of God, which will follow as certainly as the full day follows the morning twilight ; but when once there is the love of God, it will be seen to include or imply the love of his creatures. As man now is, the true relation seems to be, when specific duties are required, the performance first of those toward man as a condition of the acceptable per- formance of those toward God. It will be remembered that in classifying physical forces as higher and lower, we begin ci«8siflca- with that which is broadest, and at each ties as , , « . ,. higher and step m our ascent comprehend rewer mdi- broader. iduals, tUl we reach man ; but in classifying duties we reverse the process ; we begin with that which is narrowest, and as we ascend reach the broadest 140 MOEAL SCIENCE. and grandest generality, including not only our duties to all the creatures of God with whom we are in relation, but to God himself. CLASS I. DUTIES TO OUKSELVES. I. CLASSIFICATION. We now proceed to consider the first class of Conditions di^ies in detail. These will require that thlm^dutiea we secure those conditions in ourselves by ai to ouj dul which we can work most efficiently under ties to others, ^j^^ j^^ ^^ j^^g_ These conditions are : — 1. That we secure our rights ; 2. That we supply our wants ; and 3. That we perfect our powers. Of these each in its order is conditional for the next, and they will include all that we need to do for our own good, and to enable us to do good to others. DIVISION I. THE SECURING OF OUR RIGHTS. We are to secure our rights so far as they may be a condition to our best working under the law of love. The only right that must be secured for the above DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 141 end is that to life. As long as there is life men may act under this law, in whatever condition they may be. Hence the right to life is more sacred than any other, and hence the right to defend it even by taking the life of another, God has en- dowed men with life, has placed them in their positions here, often with many others dependent upon them, has implanted within them an instinct of self-preservation, has made the life of each as sacred as that of any other, that security of life which the instinct guards is essential both to the well-being of society and of the individual, and if, with these interests in question, life is wrongfiiUy assailed, it not only comes within the law of love to defend it by taking, if necessary, the life of another, but it is an imperative duty. God does not regard life as too sacred to be taken for the violation of natural law, and it is not only by a righteous moral law that life is taken in such cases, but by a natural law implanted in the constitution. The right to life must be defended to the utmost. Of the other great rights, as of hberty, property, and reputation, we may be deprived and still work under the law of love. These rights we are to secure as far as possible in compatibility with that law, but as no absolute rule can be laid down, and as the subject of rights will be treated further on, it is not necessary to speak of them more fiilly here. It is only to be said that at each point we are to yield or defend these rights as the law of love wisely interpreted may require. 142 MORAL SCIENCE. DIVISION IL THE SUPPLY OF OUR WANTS. The second condition of our action under the law of love is the supply of our wants. By wants is here meant those things which are necessary for the well-being of the body and the mind. These and nothing beyond are essential to full work under the law of love. To provide these requires toil, and this toil every one not incapacitated by feebleness or infirmity is bound either to undergo himself, or to pay others an equivalent for it. No duty is more strongly insisted on in the Scriptures than this. Not to perform it not only violates the first law of equity, but deprives us of all position and stand-point from which to labor for others. DIVISION III. THE PBKFECTING OF OUB, POWERS. Haying life and having our wants supplied, we are next to perfect our powers. This is the third duty to ourselves under the law of love. It is of much wider scope than those before treated of, but that the law of love requires it will be seen if we look at the ways in which we can minister to the good of others. These are three : — DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 143 1st. By putting forth our energies, physical and mental, directly to that end. Keiation of M. Uj exerting over them an uncon- the good of . fj others. scious mnuence. 3d. By awakening in them the joy of compla- cency. For each of these the one comprehensive con- dition and duty is our own perfection. " Be ye therefore perfect," How is this duty to be per- formed? CHAPTER I. PERFECTION AS RELATED TO DIRECT ACTION FOB others: OF THE BODT: of THE MIND. According to the views in the prehminary state- ment, the process in attaining this per- Perfection tection must be one or upbuilding. In ing. the language of the Scriptures, it must be an " edification." This gives us a point of departure and a method, which the term " self-culture " does not. In this view the instrumental powers, the appetites, the desires and natural affections, and the intellect are given us that through them we may build up a perfect body and a perfect mind. These powers we can control in three ways. We can incite, restrain, and guide them, and these we are to do partly from the good there is from their own regulated activity, but chiefly as they are con- ditional for the moral and spiritual nature. Of that nature our perfection would require the fullest pos- sible expansion and activity. 144 MOKAL SCIENCE. In building ourselves up then so as to become Physical effective working powers, we begin with Bret. the body. Love would require us to seek physical perfection, because this would include strength, beauty, and grace, and each of these would aid in the highest ministries of love. The more strength love has to wield, the more efficient it will be ; the more it is clothed in beauty and in grace, the more satisfaction it will give. For the perfection of the body we are dependent To this end on the appctites, the lowest of the instru- law of limit- , , . i i ationfor mental powers over which we have con- the appe- ^ ■.../, tites. trol. As lower, they are a condition for all that is above them, but their immediate object is the upbuilding and well-being of the body, and the continuance of the race. Through them we appro- priate such things as the body needs, and we have only to say that in doing this they are to be held strictly subject to the law of limitation. By their constitution they are in a measure self-regulating, but must always require rational control with ref- erence to their ends. They may be of any degree of strength, and be indulged to any extent up to the point where they cease to be in the best man- ner a condition for the activity of that which is above them. The stronger they are the better, if their action be for the strength, beauty, and grace of the body, and for the upbuilding of the intellec- tual and moral powers ; and all pleasure through them that is incidental to such upbuilding, or even compatible with it, is legitimate. DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 145 From the varying relations of the appetites, more precise rules for their regulation cannot be laid down. As, however, the evils from the appetites are so areat, we may not pass them without Danger from notice. The first great danger from the «>"»»• natural appetites is, that men will find in. the good from them their supreme end. This multitudes do. Such are sensualists; for the character is always determined by that in which the supreme end is found. Such persons may wallow in gross sen- suality, or seek their gratifications in a refined and fashionable way, but they will belong to the sty of Epicurus, will live unworthily, and will die and be forgotten, leaving the world no better for their having lived in it. The second great danger from these appetites, is that those who have higher aims will be constantly allured and seduced by them, so that the whole tone of their life will be lowered. Those are few to whom some soil from sensuality does not cling. " Fleshly lusts " not only injure the body, but " war against the soul." The third danger from the appetites is in -the for- mation of those that are artificial. These have noth- ing to do with upbuilding, as the substances on which they fix are all poison and incapable of being assimilated. The pleasure from them terminatei in itself; the tendency to increase the amount of the stimulus is strong ; the nervous system is in» 10 146 MOEAL SCIENCE. paired by them ; habits are formed which hold men iu fearful bondage, and it may be questioned whether the best state of the moral powers and the highest spiritual exercises are compatible with habitual stimulation, either alcoholic or narcotic. If God had judged it best that man should have an appetite for these substances, doubtless He would have implanted it. Held in their proper place, the appetites are pro- ductive only of good ; but looking at the history or at the present state of man, we find the'amount of misery and degradation from abuse of the natural appetites, and from artificial ones which are them- selves an abuse, to be appalling beyond description. Of the great corruption of the heathen, one of the most prominent forms is sensuality, their very re- ligion being often but a deification of this. Of coun- tries nominally Christian, especially in their great cities, the corruption is unutterable, and seldom, if ever, has Christianity so pervaded a community as to lift them wholly out of this slough. Hence we raise a warning cry at this point. Hence a right training of the young must involve a control by them of. their appetites, since a failure here is a failure in all that is above them. But while the proximate object of the appetites Appetites is the perfection of the body, they alone not BUffl- /v. • p 1 -r^ • 1 ■ , 3ient. are not suihcient tor that. Jb or its highest strength, beauty, and grace, there are needed in addition health and physical training. DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 147 1. Health. This is to the body what virtue is to the soul, its normal state, its good ; and tor this, attention is needed, not only to the appetites, but to air, exercise, sleep, and cloth- ing. The care of health through these is a duty, not only from the consequences to ourselves of its failure, but because the power of love would thus be paralyzed, and instead of aiding others we should become a tax upon their energies, if not a burden. Needless ill-health in its myriad forms is an incubus upon society ; and, though it may seem harsh to call it so, it is, as a violation of the law of love, a crime. This whole subject is not as yet brought as it should be within the domain of the conscience. The consequences of neglecting the laws of health, of imprudence, and excess, are constantly attributed to a mysterious Providence. They have the same relation to Providence as typhoid fever in the filthy wards of a city. They are visitations under Prov- idence rendered necessary by the neglect and folly of man. 2. Physical training. Health alone will not secure perfection of form or of power. Espe- ^i^j^^aL cially will it not secure grace, which is '™'''^°8- higher than beauty, and is expressed chiefly through motion. Hence the need of physical training. The true subject of education is man in the unity of soul and body. If either factor be neglected, 148 MOKAL SCIENCE. the highest results cannot be reached. Hence a well regulated system of physical culture is not only a legitimate part of education, especially of a liberal education, but it is demanded. In this we have de- chne.d from the wisdom of the ancients. Physical training may be carried too far ; it may PhvBioai become an end. Not subordinated to a K°^ higher culture, or out of proportion, it is suarded. ^ deformity and a nuisance. It also needs to be guarded against an ambition to perform diffi- cult and dangerous feats. If it can be guarded at these two points, it must become an essential ele- ment in our system of education. Strength, beauty, grace, — these are the fruits^ of physical training and health. Of these strength is put forth solely under the di- rection of will, and its exertion for others may im- pose obligation. Beauty and grace, on the other liand, produce their effects without our direct voli- tion. They are as an emanation, a fragrance, a soft green, which we admire and enjoy without feel- ing obligation. Are we then under obligation even with regard to the body, to seek not only strength to be used by will for the good of others, but also those perfec- tions and accomplishments even which may become a source of pleasure when contemplated by them ? Yes, even though they are so often sought and dis- played from vanity. By all means let beauty be sought ; beauty of person, and even of dress. This DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 149 nature teaches. The flowers are not simply becom- ing, they are beautiful. Nor do the Scriptures forbid it. The Apostle Peter, with his quiet and solemn eye, does not condemn outward adorning except as in antagonism to the higher " ornament of a meek and quiet spirit ; " " the plaiting of hair," and " wearing of gold," and " putting on of apparel," are not to be the adorning. Rightly sub- ordinated they may have their place, but are as nothing when compared with the " hidden man of the heart, which is in the sight of God of great price." Let grace be cultivated. That costs nothing. But let nothing be done from self as central. Let it be in sympathy with the tendency of every or- ganizing and vital force in nature towards perfec- tion, and as putting us in harmony with the " Kosmos." Above all let it be for others. If vanity could but be exorcised by love, accomplish- ments would at once fall into their place and be- come admirable. The taint which attaches to them, as in the service of vanity and egotism, would be removed, and the social questions which arise concerning them would be easily settled. But if we are to seek a perfect body, perfeoaon much more a perfect mind. °' "'''"'■ Here again there must be upbuilding. Love being presupposed, its first business will be to put and hold in its place each of the instrumental powers. 150 MORAL SCIENCE. Of these the desires are to the mind what the Law of lim- appetites are to the body. They are nat- Itationfor , , . • I r x- the desires, ural and necessary principles ot action, having no moral character in themselves, but re- quiring control. Like the appetites they are to be governed, not on the principle of repression, but by being made to minister to something higher. Let the desire of life, and of property, and of knowl- edge, and of power, and of esteem, have their full scope, provided they violate no right of others, and that what they appropriate is used in the service of the affections, and under the guidance of conscience. But here, as in the appetites, we must draw atten- Dangere tiou to the great danger there is from from the , ., - desires. pervcrsion and abuse. And here, also, the' first danger is that the object of some one of the desires will be adopted as the supreme end. In this case the character formed, and the re- sults, are very different from those when the ap- petites are thus adopted. The appetites have a natural limit. They are satisfied, and cease their craving ; excess in them ultimately and speedily debilitates both body and mind ; the sphere of the sensualist is narrow ; he dies and is forgotten. But the desires have no natural limit. " They grow by what they feed on," and are all absorbing. Hence we have the poltroon when we should have the martyr ; we have the miser, emaciated and cowering over his gold ; we have the pale student outwatcb- DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 151 uig the stars ; we have the conqueror desolating continents, and the shifting devotee of public opin- ion. These fill the world with their deeds. They trample on appetite, and may seem nobler than its slaves, but are equally in bondage, and some of them beyond comparison more mischievous. And here it may be well to state what that is in which the selfishness, and idolatry too, of seiashneso the race consist. It is in adopting as their *"'' '*°'*''^* supreme end the good there is fi-om the activity of some lower part of their nature. This is selfish- ness. Its primary form is not that of enmity to God, or to any one else. There is no conscious malignity. It disclaims this when imputed to it, and says, " Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?" Not interfered with, it is good-na- tured, perhaps cultivated and elegant. But let any one, even God, come between it and the end made supreme, and it becomes aversion, enmity, bitter and uncompromising rebellion. In such cases, the form varying with the appetite or desu-e, and scope being given, there is no form of deception, and no extent or refinement of cruelty to which a people civilized, and cultivated through art, will not go. This, too, is idolatry. It is the true idolatry of the race, which has always found symbols to rep- resent that which they have made their supreme end, and who have really worshipped their own sel- fish passions as reflected in those symbols. It need only be added that those who have chosen 152 MORAL SCIENCE. higher ends are in constant danger through inor- dinate desire, even more than through inordinate Rappetite. After the desires, the affections will require at- Thoaffeo- tcution bj onc who would perfect himsclf Sind*" as an agent for doing good. The affec- '""""■ tions are Natural and Moral. The differ- ence between these is, that the moral affections are consequent upon acts of will or choice, and derive their character from the character of these acts. The natural affections are found in us acting spon- taneously, like the desires. For the most part the natural affections do not require repression. They rather need culture, and under that are capable of expanding into great beauty. Nor is there from them such danger of abuse that attention need be drawn to it here. It is sufficient to say that they are to be developed under the law of limitation. The Intel- ^^ ^^^ instrumental powers it only re- '"'• mains to speak of the Intellect. The necessity of training, and if possible, per- fecting the Intellect if a man would do much for his own good or that of others, is admitted. To this every seminary of learning testifies. Its rela- tive importance is doubtless overestimated, since education has come to mean chiefly the training of the intellect. The general statement here is that the law of love requires that every talent and means of in- DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 153 fluence, wliether general or professicnal, should be cultivated to the utmost. Does an artisan fail, as in making a steam boiler, to provide in the best way for the safety and com- fort of the community ; is a physician ignorant of the right remedy, or a lawyer of the precedent on which his case turns; does the clergyman lack quickening and persuasive power ; each is con- demned by the law of love, and responsible for the consequences if the failure could have been avoided. There may be faithfiilness at the moment, — at the bedside, in the court-room, in immediate prepara- tion for the pulpit — but the failure and guilt may lie far back in the indolent self-indulgence and dis- sipation of the years of preparatory study. We now pass to the Governing Powers. It is one thing for a person to improve his instru- ooTeming mental powers, as he might his knife or ^°"'"- his reaper, and another to improve those which are more distinctively himself. It is in these that we find the worth and dignity of man, in these the image of God. In these is the germ of immortaUty ; in these the seat of spiritual conflict. For the education of these powers there are no institutions, except those of Christianity. imp„,e. The Chui-ch with its Bible, and ministry, '^^l{^. and the Spirit of God pervading all, is '"■ God's institution for the education of these powers, and training them up into the likeness of Christ, and so of God. Nor would human institutions be 154 MORAL SCIENCE. of any avail. ImproTement here must begin in the Will itself, by its submitting itself to the laws of reason and of conscience, and opening the whole man to every high and holy influence which God may bring to bear upon him. All powers are to be improved, and these no less than others, by their being exercised in the sphere and under the conditions appointed for them by God. So only. But the sphere of these powers is to rule. Hence they can be improved only as they are permitted to be active in ruling. But that they should do this nothing can secure but that ultimate act of choice which determines character, and which lies beyond the reach of all institutions and external appliances. If these powers be held in abeyance, their place being usurped by appetite or desire in the form of passion, they will be dwarfed and perverted, and will manifest themselves in every form of superstition and fanaticism. Such is the sphere of the governing powers. He who would cultivate, them must permit them to govern, and to govern uniformly. So shall they gain strength, and so shall he walk in increasing light until " the perfect day." But the conditions under which these powers are Conditions ^^ ^c*) ^^^ ^^^ helps offered, require to be and helps. Jjuq^h no less than then- sphere. These cannot here be treated of at large, but I desire to advert to the subject of immediate divine aid, be- cause that is so generally regarded as alien to phi- DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 156 losopliy. It is not so, for the whole philosophy of upbuilding would lead us to anticipate that man in his highest powers would be connected with that which is stiU higher. And in this it is accordant with the voice of heathen antiquity, and of the Scriptures. Always men have spoken of the voice of God within them, and the Scriptures speak of the " light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world." The expressions vary, but the import is that there is a direct access of the Spirit of God to the spirit of man, both for illumination and quickening. For the reception of these the Moral Reason is adapted as the flower is adapted to receive the light and warmth of the sun, and no symbol could be more beautiful than tliat of the flower that turns itself to the sun and foUows it in its course. But are we not here in danger of mysticism ? Yes; but only as we are in danger of conflagration from the use of fire. Let us be cautious and encourage no mysticism. Let us also be cautious and neither ignore nor quench any hght offered us by God. This is a vital question in our upbuilding. I hold that this communication and aid are in strict accordance with philosophy, and my conviction is that whoever attempts perfect- ing his directive powers without prayer, and open- ing his mind, by putting away wickedness, to the illuminating and quickening influences of the Spirit of God, will fail of success. 156 MORAL SCIENCE. It is only by thus building up himself through the whole range of his faculties, that man can reach the highest efficiency when he would put forth direct acts of will in the service of love. CHAPTEE n. PEEFECTION AS RELATED TO UNCONSCIOUS INFI-UENCB. The second mode of doing good to others is by unconscious influence or example. This, in its highest degree, requires perfection not so much of the powers, as in their control and mode of action. No lower power may act beyond the point at which it becomes a condition for the action of a higher. The appetite for food or drink may not be so indulged as to prevent the fullest activity of the desire of knowledge or of power. The desire of power may not become so engrossing as to dwarf the affections or stifle any claim of justice or of right. Napoleon cared nothing for appetite, but was gluttonous of power. When a man chooses the object of any lower power for his supreme end, that determines his character, his energies are directed to that, his development is around it, and he be- comes unsymmetrical, as a tree whose upward sap is arrested and expands it into a deformity. This most men do.. They lack the controlling and directive power needed to keep the Acuities in subordination, and even if they choose the highest DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 157 end are long in bringing moral symmetry into their lives. Only when this is done are they in a con- dition to exert the highest unconscious influence over others, and when this is done, this influence is more efficient than any other. The direct power of man over nature is slight compared with that which he gains through her own forces. The same ib true of society. As God in- tended man to be a social being, He implanted in him those principles by which he may have a com- mon life, and through which that life may be reached and modified throughout a nation, and for ages. Among these principles is that sympathy and un- conscious imitation by which families and nations are assimilated, and to reach, as it may be done, the common life through this is the sublime st work of man. It is in early life that this unconscious imitation is most operative. Every child is a Chinese. Give him a cracked saucer for a model, and he will make a cracked set. The child needs formal teaching by words, but his principles are formed and practical habits moulded chiefly by that action of those around him which expresses their inner life. From this there is a subtle and pervasive influence that no direct teaching can counteract. It is thus that families, neighborhoods, sections of country art reached and assimilated, and to this all contribute. It is through this that great men, men great in character and action, reach their highest influence. 158 MORAL SCIENCE. They are simply set in the firmament of the past, and »Mne. Doubtless the power of a book, of the word spoken, of mere teaching, is great, but this silent shining addresses different principles, and under different conditions. Power is from the inner life in its in- tegrity, and this is most perfectly and certainly revealed by action. Hence " Example is better than precept." The word not weighted from the life sounds hoUow. Hence the folly as well as guilt of attempting to substitute anything for that thor- ough sincerity of character from which alone good influences can legitimately flow. We here find a special danger to preachers, and to all who teach professionally or formally. They are tempted to " say and do not." There is no surer way to destroy self-respect and bring such teachings into contempt. Against such teachers the Bible denounces its heaviest woes. " Woe unto you Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretense make long prayers : therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation." CHAPTER III. PEEFECTION AS BELATED TO COMPLAOENCT. The third way of benefiting others through a care for our own state, is by awakening in them the joy of complacency. DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 159 Under the former head we regarded man as active, with powers to be addressed ; under this we regard him as having susceptibiHties. Our object then was action, character ; it is now enjoyment. The highest susceptibilities are moral, and it is from manifestations of moral character that we have our highest enjoyment through the susceptibili- ties. Through these we have the love of compla- cency, the sense of moral beauty and grandeur, esteem, veneration, and the emotions which, in their highest form, become worship. For the susceptibility to natural beauty and grandeur God has provided. Nature is foil of ob- jects that correspond to this ; it is among our purest and best sources of enjoyment, and is the forerunner and type of the higher enjoyment from the beauty of holiness. But the moral susceptibili- ties can be awakened only by character. For these the great provision is in God himself, whose charac- ter is perfect ; but aside from this, these susceptibili- ties may be drawn out in high activity by human character. If all people were to reflect the image of Christ in their radical character, the ideals of literature and art, or rather something more beau- tifol and better, would live and act before us, and no one can estimate the enhanced joy from moral beauty. It is an office of Love to increase material beauty. She smiles upon the marriage of taste with industry. She would esteem it a crime to mar nature ; she 160 MORAL SCIENCE. would, if possible, restore the beauty of Eden. How much more then must Love feel under obliga- tion to increase moral beauty ; how much more a crime to diminish it. In a community whose moral nature is developed, high moral character is the purest, the best, the amplest contribution to mere enjoyment that can be made. It is better than pictures or statues or landscape gardens. Such a contribution every man can make by attending to his own state, and it is among the more imperative obligations of Love to do this. That this end of love would be most fully reached by our perfection, is too plain to need enforcement. Everywhere the highest complacency demands perfection. CHAPTEB IV. PEEPECTION AS BELATED TO THE GLORT OF GOD. We have thus seen that our own perfection is a condition of our best ministrations to others in each of the three ways in which it is possible for as to minister to them, and that love would there- fore oblige us to seek that perfection. We are also under obligation to seek it, because it is a condition of our most fiilly glorifying God. God is glorified by the manifestation of his per- fections. In the products of his wisdom and power He is glorified, as they are seen to be perfect. He DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 161 is more glorified as He himself is seen to be perfect in his moral character and government, and as He is loved and obeyed by creatures made in his image. This love and obedience are the sum of human duty : they are perfection. They are also the glorifying of God, and, it may be added, the enjoying of Him. That God should be glorified by us voluntarily, and enjoyed in any other way, we cannot conceive. In this view of it, therefore, perfection can hardly be said to be a condition of glorifying God. It is the glorifying of Him. CHAPTER V. PERFECTION AS RELATED TO SELF-LOVE. From the above it appears that love to others and to God would require us to seek our own perfection. But this is just what would be required by a reason- able self-love, and is there no place for that ? Yes ; and we here reach the point, not only of the recon- ciliation of self-love with benevolence, but of their convergence. Self-love is legitimate. Our own good is of intrinsic value, and we are especially bound to care for it as it is that part of the universal good which is more especially intrusted to us. God cares for it, and why not we ? In doing this we have reason to believe that we not only work with Him for our own good, but as He himself works, " From hence, also, it is evident," says Edwards, in 11 162 MORAL SCIENCE. his " Treatise on the Nature of Virtue," " that the divine virtue, or the virtue of the divine mind, must consist principally in love to himself." If this be correct, our virtue will consist in some degree in love to ourselves. While, therefore, we allow self- love a place in prompting efforts for our own per- fection, it is a subordinate one. It is worthy of notice that it is no part of the divine law, as directly expressed, that we love our- selves. It is simply implied in the command to love our neighbor as ourselves. The reason doubtless is the deep harmony there is between loving God and our neighbor and loving ourselves. So perfectly coincident are they as reciprocally re- sulting, both and equally, from perfect powers act- ing rightly, that if we love God and our neighbor we do the very thing that self-love would require, and there is no need of enforcing a fiirther law. To love God and our neighbor is the best way of loving ourselves. CHAPTER VI. HABITS. In speaking of individual upbuilding and perfec- tion, the subject of habits may not be omitted. Habits presuppose original faculties and suscep- Habits, ao- tiblHties by which acts are done and im- passive, pressions are received independently of habit. They are formed by repeated voluntary DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 163 action of the powers, and by repeated impressions on the sensibility. No man, therefore, is bom with habits, but every one has a tendency to form them ; and, according to the distinction just made, they will be either active or passive. Active habits are formed by the repetition of voluntary acts. It is an ultimate fact in ^^u^, our constitution, that repetition, practice, '"''"'• use, produces, always facility in doing the acts re- peated, and sometimes, in addition, a tendency to do them. Facility and tendency, — these are the results of acts voluntarily repeated, which required at first carefiil attention and painful eflPort. Both facility and tendency are spoken of as the result of habit, but they need to be distinguished ; and we also need to distinguish a tendency to do a thing in a particular manner, from a tendency to do it at all. By repetition one gains facility in writing his name, and a tendency, if he write it at all, to do so in a par- ticular way ; but he does not gain a tendency to write his name. For doing that a rational motive is required. The same may be said of all acquired skill. This is gained by the repetition of acts giving facility, and a tendency to do the thing in a particular manner. But in some cases a step further is taken, and a tendency is acquired to do the thing itself. This may go so far that habitual action may seem automatic, and not only not to be from the will, but to be in opposition to it. It is this ten- ieincy which is more particularly spoken of as 164 MORAL SCIENCE. " habit." This it is that may need to be guarded against, or to be overcome. Of such a constitution the object is evident. It oyeotof is ^^^ to trammel us, or to reduce us to habits. routine, but to enable us so to incorporate into our being the results of voluntary action as to avail ourselves of those results with the least pos- sible attention, and so that the mind may be free to enter upon new fields of effort. This it is desir- able to notice, because many writers have enlarged the sphere of habit quite too much. Such being the nature of active habits, and the object of that constitution by which they are formed, it is obvious, — 1. That men must be responsible for their habits, Responsi- and for all acts done from them. Not bility for habits. only do specific habits originate in the will as prompted by original and controlling faculties that act independently of habit, but they can never wholly escape from the control of will. 2. It is obvious that when men rest in any form Habits con- o^ habitual action, they defeat the end for K^orto which the capacity for habits was given, tiammeius. ^j^jjj^jj jg ^q gjyg freedom to enter upon new fields of activity. Habit, as habit, is automatic and mechanical. It is simply conservative, while man never reaches a point where conservatism is not for the sake of progress. Hence, while we are to seek by repetition all possible facility and power, we are to guard sedulously against being brought DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 165 mto bondage to any tendency. It is sad to see the power of rational will and free choice narrowed down by any blind force, natural or acquired. 3. It is obvious that bad habits may be formed as well as good ones. In these there is a tendency to mcrease m strength m- definitely ; and when we have this accumulated power thus added to the force of original passion, we have a bondage the most fearful known. Hence the wisdom of letting evil alone " before it be med- dled with." 4. It is a point of wisdom to " set the habits," as Paley says, " so that every change may ihe^jet" be a change for the better." In illustra- »"'»■*"'»• ting this he says that " the advantage is with those habits which allow of an indulgence in the devia- tion from them. The luxurious receive no greater pleasure from their dainties than the peasant does from his bread and cheese ; but the peasant, when- ever he goes abroad, finds a feast ; whereas the epicure must be well entertained to escape disgust. Those who spend every day at cards, and those who go every day to plough, pass their time much alike ; but then whatever suspends the occupation of the card-player distresses him ; whereas to the Jaborer every interruption is a refreshment ; and this appears in the different effects that Sunday produces upon the two, which proves a day of rec- reation to the one, but a lamentable burden to the other." 1 1 Moral Phihsophy, chap. vi. 166 MORAL SCIENCE. Passive habits, as has been said, are fonned by re- PaadTe peated impressions. These, no less than '''*'"'■ active habits, have it for their end to regu- late action. This they do by their effect both upon the enjoyment and the suffering caused by impres- sions. The end being action, the means are disre- garded ; and emotions and impressions, both pleas- ant and unpleasant, are moderated by such habits when they would interfere with the best condi- tion for action. The doctrine of Bishop Butler is that, " From our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, by being repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts, by often passing through the mind are felt less sensibly ; being accustomed to danger begets intrepidity, — that is, lessens fear ; to dip- tress, lessens the passion of pity ; to instances of others' mortality, lessens the sensible apprehension of our own. And from these two observations together, — that practical habits are formed and strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive impressions grow weaker by being repeated upon us, — it must follow that active habits may be gradually forming and strengthening by a course of acting upon such and such motives and excite- ments, whilst these motives and excitements them- selves are by proportionable degrees growing less sensible, — that is, are continually less and less sensibly felt, even as the active habits strengthen." ' This shows how needful it is that motives, excite- 1 Analogy, Part I., chap. v. DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 167 ments, sympathies, legitimately connected with ac- tion, should be followed by such action, for no one is so hardened and hopeless as he who has become familiar with such motives without corresponding action. " Going," says Butler, " over the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, talking well, and draw- ing fine pictures of it ; this is so far from neces- sarily or certainly conducing to form a habit of it in him who thus employs himself, that it may harden the mind in a contrary course, — that is, form a habit of insensibility to all moral consid- erations." But while the above gives us the relation of active and passive habits, and contains Qnaiiflcation . 1 1 f. 1 .0' Butler's practical truth oi the utmost moment, it doctrine. may be questioned whether the doctrine of passive impressions, as stated, does not require qualification. No proof is given by Butler that " from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions must grow weaker." It is even conceivable that they might grow stronger. The law applies to all that depends on physical organization as now constituted, perhaps goes farther, but is not a necessary law of intellect and sensitive being. Let that on which sensibility depends remain unworn, as surely it may, and there will be no reason why the thousandth impression should not be as vivid as the first. CLASS II. DUTIES TO OUE FELLOW MEN. Duties to our fellow men will fall into two great divisions, which we shall treat separately, with livisions under each. I. Duties to men as men. II, Duties growing out of special relations. PRELIMINAEY. SELF-LOVE AND THE LOVE OF OTHESS. In passing to these we must not omit to say that Beif-iove as love to our fellow men requires atten- ftnd loTe of . -,..-. others re- tion to our own Condition and state, so ciprocally _ ^ , . , , , ^ , dependent, seli-love requires attention to their condi- tion and state. If we can hest minister to our fel- low men only as we are perfect, they can best minister to us only as they are perfect. As social beings, our whole interest and enjoyment will de- pend upon the condition and state of others, and the promotion of their well-being is that of our own. So intimate and reciprocally dependent are a rational self-love and a love of others. They are not only not opposites, as some have supposed, DUTIES TO OUE FELLOW MEN. 169 but are different phases of one common principle, equally necessary to the common end. In our duties to others the law is that we shall love our neighbor as ourselves. We must then do for him as we would for ourselves. But, as we have seen, we are to regard our own rights, to sup- ply our wants, and to perfect and direct our powers. If, then, we would love our fellow men as we do ourselves, we must — 1. Regard, and, if necessary, aid in securing their rights ; — 2. Supply their wants ; and — 3. Do what we can to perfect and direct their powers. These will include, and in their order as lower and higher, all our duties to our fellow men. In these ways we are to " do good to all as we have opportunity." But through rela- Ground of tions established by God, indicating the ana duties, ends not only of the individual, but of the familj' and of society, we are required, while we give to all tlieir rights, to supply the wants and to seek to pei-- fect and direct the powers of some rather than of othei's. To empower us to do these more effec- tually, we may have special rights over persons we may owe them special duties ; and they may have special claims and be under special obligations. This will give us what have been called the " rights of persons " in distinction from the " rights of things," and will require a separate consideration of the rights and duties of the family and of society FIEST GREAT DIVISION. DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN. « DIVISION I. DUTIES REGAEDmG THE RIGHTS OF OTHERS. — *—^ CHAPTEU I. OF RIGHTS, We are now prepared to pass to the consideration of rights. Of rights the correlative is obhgation, and the obligations corresponding to rights give the lowest form of duty to others. For the most part rights are guarded by negative precepts, the command being " Thou shalt not." They belong to others already, and can be taken or withheld from them only by positive injury. This love can never do. The least that love can do for others is to respect, and concede to them, all their rights ; and no one who violates or withholds the rights of another can consistently claim to be benevolent toward him. That we give to others their rights, is therefore the proper condition of all higher forms of duty. DDTIES TO OUR FELLOW MEN. 171 As actions are right from their relation to an end, 80 all rights are founded in the relation of those things to which men have a right, to some ^oondaaon end indicated through our nature, and to "' "**"•• be attained either by ourselves or others. For every active principle in man, for every natural desire, affection, or capacity, indicating an end to be attained, there is a corresponding natural right ; and these rights are higher or lower accord- ing to the dignity and sacredness of the end, or, which is the same thing, of that part of our nature in which they originate. Thus there are rights which would secure the attainment by instinct of its ends, and by the appetites of their end. And so of the desires, and of the intellect, and of the natural affections, and of the moral and spiritual nature. Whoever is permitted to pursue unob- structedly all the ends indicated by these several active principles, has all his rights ; and in doing so he has a fight to have and to do everything that will not interfere with the rights of others. If ob- structed on any other ground, he would not have all his rights. Having endowed man with active principles, the purpose of God evidently was to place him in such conditions that he should be in- duced, required, and enabled to secure the ends indicated by those principles ; and when in the pursuit of those ends he is arrested by any mter- ference with such divinely constituted conditions, the indignant protest which arises in the breast of every man is the voice of God in the assertion of 172 MOKAL SCIENCE. rights. We are so constituted that, in apprehend- ing the relation between these active principles and their ends, the moral reason necessarily forms the idea of rights. Rights, as thus founded, are of several kinds. And 1st, There are what have been called KindB of " rights of things " and " rights of per- '^^*"- sons." This is a radical distinction, and needs to be clearly understood. Men have a right to things that they may be enabled to attain their own ends. They have rights over persons that they may enable those per- sons to attain their ends. Rights of things are to guard against the encroachment of others, and their sole correlative is obligation on the part of others. From the use of anything to which one man has a right, others are under obligation to ab- stain, and to abstain wholly. Of rights over others, having it for their object to enable them to attain their end, the correlative is still obligation on the part of others ; but they also involve obligation on the part of him in whom the right vests to those others. The parent has a right over the child, and the child is under obligation to respect that right ; but the parent is also himself under obligation to the child to use that right solely for the end for which it was given. As rights have their foundation in their relation ^^t^f to an end, so they find their limit in the ^''^^^- same relation. Relatively to others a man DUTIES TO OUR FELLOW MEN. 173 may have a right to do what he will with his own, but in- truth and before God, no man has a right to use anything except for the end for which it was given. No man has a right to destroy his property wantonly, or to use it foolishly, though no other man may have a right to prevent him. Here, too, we find not only the foundation, but the limit of all rights of government whether human or divine. If any being be in a position to secure his own ends independently of all others, then no other being can have any rights over him. It is on this ground that any right over God is impossible, and his right over his creatures as moral Governor is not from his relation to them as Creator and Pre- server, as these relations are simply from his power, but it is from his capacity and disposition to do for them what is necessary for the attainment by them of their end. Moral government is by law, and no man will say that it would be right in God to give his creatures a law that would lead them astray in seeking their supreme end. So far as we can un- derstand it the whole end of the moral government of God is to lead his creatures to the attainment by them of that end. If any one should fail of this ultimately and finally, and it should appear that God had not provided conditions by which it was possible for him to attain it, the fault would not be in the creature. But there will be no such failure. No creature shall ever be able to charge such a failure upon God. Hence the righteousness of his govern- 174 MORAL SCIENCE. ment, his right under that government to control his creatures, and the guilt of their rebeUion. In the same way parents and civil rulers, holding rela- tions established by God, through which their aid Is indispensable to others in the attainment of their ends, have rights over them, but only for the attain- ment by them of those ends. If any man make use of another for his own ends simply, he uses him as a ihimg. This, when done by an individual, is slavery ; when done by a government, it is tyranny. Rights, again, are natural, and adventitious. Bights Natural rights are both of things and of aaT^i-""' persons. They are those which would tious. belong to man if there were no civil government. A man has a natural right to those means and conditions of good which God has pro- vided to enable him to secure his end, such as air, light, water, the unappropriated products of the earth and waters, and the fruit of his own labors. Parents have also a natural right to the obedience and respect of their children, and children to the love and care of their parents, because these grow out of natural relations. Adventitious rights are those which grow out of civil society. No man is naturally a ruler, or judge, or sheriff, or legislator. These have rights as such, but they are adven- titious. So also are many of the rights of property. Rights are also aKenable and inalienable. Alien- Bights aUen- able rights are those which may be law- auenabie. fully transferred to another. We do not DUTIES TO UUK FELLOW MEN. 175 here inquire what others may unlawiully do in de- priving us of rights, which will still be ours and may again be exercised when we have the power, but what we may do in transferring to others rights which will cease to be ours. The ground of this distinction will be found in the ends which these rights respect. All rights from the lower powers, as the desires and natural affections, that do not respect the supreme end, are alienable. A man may transfer to another his property, or his right over his child. But a man has an inalienable right to himself in the use of all those means and condi- tions which are necessary to the attainment of his supreme end. These he cannot alienate, and no one can rightfully deprive him of them. No man may lower his true manhood ; but if, without doing this, he can alienate or part with anything, he is at liberty to do it. If the foundation of rights has been correctly stated, it will follow that the rights of all j^^^i men are equal. As rights are founded ^^''"' on ends indicated by active principles, if men have common active principles and a common end, that is, if they are men, they must have common and equal rights. This is the doctrine of the Declaration of Independence, and the foundation of republican institutions. The condition in which men are bom, and their natural endowments, may be of the greatest diversity, but the right of one human being to all the means and conditions given him by God 176 MORAL SCIENCE. for attaining his ends must rest on the same ground, and be as perfect and sacred as that of any other. That men have equal rights has been regarded as self-evident, but some confusion has arisen from not distinguishing clearly between the rights of things Rights of and of persons. As regards rights of per- thmgs and ^ ^ ^ ° ~ '■ persons to soHs a practical evasion has been attempted. be distin-. ^ ^ _ -^ _ anguished. All children, it is said, are indeed born with equal rights, but, as unable to secare their own ends, they need for a long time to be under guardianship, and if there are persons or races who are under the same need, they may be treated in an analogous way. This is true, but before the desired application of it may be made, it must be shown that such persons are really unable to take care of themselves. There are idiots and incompetent persons who must be thus cared for, but to suppose large classes or races to be left thus and without natural guardianship would be an imputation upon Providence ; there are no such races. It must also be shown that any such assumed guardianship is a rightfiil one, and will secure its legitimate ends. Such a guardian- ship for the ends of those over whom it is assumed, would not be coveted. The law of love would re- quire us first to give all persons their rights, and if, after a fair trial, they are unable to take care of themselves, then to have guardians appointed by lawful authority, and for their good. This would be wholly contrary to the spirit of slavery, -which consists in using persons as things, and for our own ends. DUTIES TO OUR FELLOW MEN. 177 The rights which men, all men, thus have as em- powered of God to secure their own ends, are those of Justice and of Truth, which last is also a form of justice. As between man and man, justice consists in con- ceding and rendering to every one all his rights. He who has all his rights has no injustice done him. Divine Justice consists not only in this, but also in rendering to every one his deserts. These two forms of justice are entirely distinct. Desert of punishment depends upon guilt ; but with guilt as such and in distinction from injury to the individual and to society, man cannot deal. That depends upon the heart, which he cannot know and can have no claim to regulate. Man looks on the act and infers the motive. He may not punish ex- cept on the presumption of a bad motive, but his punishment must be graduated, not by the pre- sumed badness of the motive, but by the tendency of the act to injure society. God, on the other hand, looks at the motive and disregards the act. He sees and punishes guilt in intention where there is no outward act. Hence " Vengeance belongs to Him." He only can administer punitive justice. Man may guard rights ; he may prevent any violation of them in the name of justice and within its limits. And the sentiment of justice within him may find satis- faction in such punishment, but the measure of pun- ishment by him must be found in its necessity to guard the rights of society, and not in any satis- 12 178 MORAL SCIENCE. faction of absolute punitive justice. Any other right can be had only from direct revelation. We now pass to consider more particularly the rights which belong to all men. But in dojrag this we must notice an element secaritiym ^hich entcTS into our conception of all a^™<=^ rights — that of security. The right to tion of right, security in the possession and use of any- thing rests on the same ground as the right to the thing itself, since the end on which the right is based cannot be fully attained without this. With- out security there is no enjoyment or free use of anything, and perfect security alone gives its fiill value to a possession. This is the element and con- dition in connection with our rights which w€ value more than any other. Hence this element is recognized in law ; and if there be good reason to believe that any one wUl violate the rights of others, he may be bound over to keep the peace. CHAPTER n. PERSONAL eights: LIFE AND LIBERTY. Security being thus implied in all rights, the first class which w6 shall notice is those of the Person. Every person has a right to life, and to such security and freedom as will enable him to attain the several ends indicated by his active powers. On the right to life all others depend. This is the first guarded in the Decalogue. It is ^■^^^^g also the first mentioned in the Declaration "*■ of Independence, where it is said to be inalienable. It is so. It may be forfeited for crime ; it may be surrendered for the sake of principle or of humanity, but cannot be alienated for a consideration. How, then, may the right to life be so forfeited tliat others may have the right to take it Howfcr- away ? *■"***• This may be done in four ways, and 1. By attempting the life of another. The right to take life in defending life is recognized by the laws of all countries and by all persons, except a few extreme non-resistants. 2. The- right to life may be forfeited by attempt^ 180 MORAL SCIENCE. ing house-breaking or robbery in the night. The law properly makes a distinction between such attempts by day and by night, and in the latter case justifies the taking of life. Still every such attempt will not make this morally right, and for such cases no general rule can be laid down. 3. The right to Hfe may be forfeited by resisting the officers of the law. If officers of the law are resisted in its execution, they have a right, as a last resort, to take life. If a mob which they have been commanded to disperse, will not disperse, they have a right to fire upon it. 4. The right to life is forfeited by murder, that is, by taking life with maHce aforethought. The death penalty was early authorized and de- manded by the Bible, not from cruelty, but on the very ground of the sacredness of human life. " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed, for in the image of God made Me man." The estimate placed by a lawgiver upon any right, can be measured only by the penalty by which he guards it ; and as death is the highest possible penalty, they who impose this show the highest possible estimate of the value of life. That is a sophism by which those who reject this penalty would persuade themselves or the community that in so doing they are more humane than others, or 8et a higher value on human life. It is the reverse. But the right to take life can depend upon no estimate of its value by us. It must come either directly or indirectly from God, — directly by rev- PERSONAL RIGHTS : LIFE AND LIBERTY. 181 elation, and indirectly from its necessity to the ends of government. Government is from God, and has thus a right to do what is essential to its own being and ends ; and if the security which is its great end can be attained only by the death of those who would destroy it, then society may put them to death. Society has thus the right, and must judge how far, in the varying phases of civil- ization and Christianity, it may be necessary to use it. The rights of the Person are also infringed by any violence actual or attempted. An assault is violence attempted. Battery is any degree of vio- lence, even the slightest touch in anger, or for in- sult. Violence may also result in wounding or in maiming the person attacked. Under rights of the person is also included, — the Right to Liberty. By this is here mghtto meant, not freedom of choice, but the '"'^'*y- liberty of external action in carrying out our choices. It is the right to do whatever any one may choose, provided he does not interfere with the rights of another. Liberty to this extent is plainly essential to the end of man as a responsible being, and hence a natural right. It is also inalienable so far as it is necessary to the highest end of any man ; but if by parting with some portion of it, — for even slavery does not wholly take it away, — a man can detter subserve the great ends of love, he is at liberty to do it. CHAPTER in. EIGHT TO PKOPERTT. The Right to Property reveals itself through an itafoonda- Original desire. The affirmation of it is '^'"^' early and universally made, and becomes a controlling element in civil society. The sense of this right, thus originally given, is deepened by observation and reflection. Without this society could not exist. With no right to the product of his labor no man would m^ike a tool, or a garment, or buUd a shelter, or raise a crop. There could be no industry and no progress. It will be found too, historically, that the general well-being and progress of society has been in pro- portion to the freedom of every man to gain prop- erty in all legitimate ways, and to security in its possession. Let the form of the government be what it may, if there but be freedom of industry, and security in the possession and enjoyment of its results, there will be prosperity. The laws of every government relate largely to property. They regulate the modes of its acquisi- tion and transfer, and punish violations of the right. The acquisition of property is required by love, RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 183 because it is a powerful means of benefiting others. There is no giving without a previous get- p^perty «» ting, A selfish getting of property, though '»"4'X^ better than a selfish indcJence or wastefalness, is not to be encouraged ;, but the desire of property working in subordination to the affections should be. Most blessed would it be if all the desires could thus work, but especially this. Industry, frugality, carefulness, as ministering to a cheerful giving, would then not only be purged from all taint of meanness, but would be ennobled. " There have," says Chancellor Kent, " been • modern theorists, who have considered separate a;nd ex- clusive property as the cause of injustice, and the unhappy result of government and artificial insti- tutions. But human society would be in a most unnatural and miserable condition if it were pos- sible to be instituted ,or reorganized upon the basis of such speculations. The sense of property is graciously bestowed upon mankind for the purpose of rousing them firom sloth and stimulating them to action. It leads to the cultivation of the earth, the institution of government, the estabhshment of jus- tice, the acquisition of the comforts of life, the growth of the usefiil arts, the spirit of commerce, the productions of taste, the erections of charity, and the display of the benevolent affections." Property may be acquired, — 1. By appropriating so much of those thinga which God has given to all as we need for oui 184 MORAL SCIENCE. own use. Some things which God has given to all, Direct modes as air and sunlight, cannot be appropriated, property. and SO cauuot become property. But the spontaneous fruits of the earth, the products of the waters, and so much land as may be necessary for individual support, and as shall be permanently occupied, may, by appropriation, become property. 2. Property may be acquired by labor. Labor is the chief source of value, and the laborer has a right to the value he creates. This is a natural right resulting directly from a man's right to himself. It may not be easy, it is not, to adjust the questions that arise between the claims of accumulated labor in the form of capital and of labor directly applied, or wages ; but the principle is, that the value created should be shared in pro- portion to the labor represented or applied. In the above ways property may be acquired Indirect directly. It may also be acquired indi- ""i™- rectly, and — 1. By exchange. This may be either by barter, which is an exchange of commodities ; or by bargain and sale, in which the purchaser gives money. 2. By gift. The right to give away property is involved in the right of ownership. 3. By will. The right to bestow property by will is admitted in all civilized countries. This is natural and beneficial to society. The right how- ever is not absolute, but may be so limited by law as not to counterwork the general spirit of the in- stitutions of a country. RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 185 4. By inheritance. When persons die intestate, their property is inherited by their relatives in accordance with law. 5. By accession. " This is the right to all that one's own property produces, whether that property be movable or immovable, and the right to that which is united to it by accession either naturally or artificially. This includes the fruits of the earth produced naturally or by human industry, the in- crease of animals, and the new species of articles made by one person out of the materials of another." " Also title by alluvion, or the deposit of earth by natural causes." ^ 6. By possession. To prevent litigation the laws properly fix a limit beyond which a man shall not be disturbed in the possession of property, however it may have been acquired. This gives no moral right, but is what is called " right by possession." The right of property is exclusive. No man, no state, has the right to take it away without j^^ . ^^ an equivalent, and the owner has a right «"'"«'"■ to put it to any use he may please that is consistent with the rights of others. Property may be real or personal. Real estate consists of lands and of appurtenances, as Property 111 1 .1 '™' " I*'" houses, trees, shrubs, that cannot be easily sonai. moved. AU other property is personal. With the exceptions to be mentioned hereafter, the right of property is violated if it be taken with- 1 Kent's Ommtntaria. 186 MORAL SCIENCE. out the free consent of the owner; or if througn This right concealment Or deception the owner fail latsd to have a fall knowledge of the equiva- lent oflfered. If property be taken with consent enforced by fear, or by violence without consent, it is robbery. If taken by forcibly entering a dwelling in the night, it is burglary. If simply taken without the knowledge or con- sent of the owner with no violence, it is theft. If property be taken, and through concealment or misrepresentation the owner be ignorant of the equivalent offered, it is cheating. If the equivalent offered be a forged papef, it is fraud. The line between fraud and cheating is not sharply drawn. In a large sense they cover the same ground, but while there is fraud in all cheat- ing, yet forgery is a fraud, and not cheating. If property be taken with consent obtained by lying or deception without an equivalent, it is ob- taining property under false pretences. Of these, robbery, as violating both the rights of person and of property, is the highest crime. As violating both the rights of security and property, burglary comes next. The others are criminal in the eye of tlie law, for that is the only criminality that can here be estimated, as they tend to unsettle the right of property and disturb the order of society, and this tendency may vary with time and circumstances. RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 187 The right of property is exclusive, hut as it is an inferior good, it may not stand in the way q^o^^ of of the great interests of the community, or fereic'e^rith of the life of the individual. Hence the "^ ''*'"• community have the right, provided for and asserted ander all governments, of taking in a legal way, and for a fair equivalent, private property for the convenience and safety of the public. And indi- viduals have the right to take property as food to (preserve life. It is commonly said that the right of property precludes the taking of the least thing without the consent of the owner, but consent may sometimes oe presumed. The rule is to take nothing we should not be wilHng the owner should see us take. To take an apple in passing through an orchard is not stealing. In the ways above mentioned property is wrong- rally taken. It may be taken rightfully with the iree consent of the owner, whether as a gift or for an equivalent. If for an equivalent, it may be by exchange or by purchase. The law of exchange, as already indicated, is that each party should have a full knowl- j^^ ^^ ^^_ edge of that which is offered as an eqvuva- '•""k*- lent. In exchange intrinsic values are not consid- ered, but the convenience or taste of the parties. Hence a fair transaction can require nothing but freedom from constraint, and a ftill knowledge by each party of the equivalent offered. 188 MORAL SCIENCE. The law of exchange by purchase, or of buying and selling, is the same, so far as the seller is con- cerned, as that of simple exchange, except that a trader is bound to ask for that in which he professes to deal, no more than the market-price. A fair transaction requires that there shall be no conceal- ment or deception in the article sold, that no more than the market-price be demanded, and that no improper motive, as vanity, or a depraved appetite, be appealed to. In selling an article in which he does not profess to deal, a man may ask what he pleases. Property may be permanently and rightftdly alienated, by gift, by exchange, and by sale. It is also permanently alienated by gambling. This has different forms. In some cases, as in dice and in lotteries, it is simply an appeal to chance. In others, as in cards, there is a mixture of chance and skill. In others, as in betting, of chance and judgment. In all cases the object is gain without an equivalent, an,d while there is such gain on one side there is, on the other, loss without compensation. In legitimate trade both parties are benefited ; in gambling but one. Legitimate trade requires and promotes habits of industry and skill ; gambhng generates indolence and vice, and stimu- lates a most infatuating and often uncontrollable passion. It is wholly selfish, and wholly injurious in its effects upon the community. That a practice thus inherently vicious should be resorted to for RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 189 charitable purposes, does not change its character, but only tends to confound moral distinctions. But are all appeals to chance in the distribution of property gambling ? Not necessarily, AUenaaon it we deiine it by its motives and results, by chance . . . . p . -vT • T • 1 7 °°' nlways A picture is given to a rair. No individual gambung. will give for it its value ; that value is contributed by a number, and the picture disposed of by lot. This differs from an ordinary lottery : 1st, Because there are no expenses, and all that is given goes for an object which the parties are gathered to promote. 2d, The prize is given so that nothing is taken for prizes from the amount paid in, but the whole goes for the proposed object. 3d, Tliis may be done from a simple desire that the fair should realize the worth of its property and so benevolently. And 4th, Appeals to chance under these conditions are not likely to be so frequent or general as to en- danger the habits of the community. AU this may, and should, in fairness, be said. It should also be said, 1st, That no form of charity should be tolerated for a moment that in the actual state of a com- munity will foster a spirit of gambling. It should be said, 2dly, That any attempt to promote a benev- olent object by an appeal to selfish motives is wrong. Benevolent giving is a means of Christian culture, but selfish giving in the form of benevo- lence is a deception and a snare. If the cause of benevolence cannot be supported benevolently, it had better not be supported at all. Any other 190 MORAL SCIENCE. mode of supporting it will dry up its fountains. While therefore we do not say that all appeals to chance m the distribution of property are gambling, we do say that all combinations and arrangements to cause persons to give money for benevolent ob- jects otherwise than benevolently are wrong, and more especially if they tend to promote a spirit of gambling. But not gambling only, speculation also requires attention in its relation to morals. In some of its forms, as in buying and selling stocks, or wheat, when there is no delivery, what is called speculation is mere gambling. It is sim- whatis ply betting on the question of a future called Bpeou- ^ •' ? -r. • i • j- laUon. market price, but m speculation, as dis- tinguished from gambling, the speculator does not expect to get something for nothing. There is a bargain and a transfer of what each party ac- cepts as an equivalent. Speculation is purchase or sale in the expectation of a change of prices. With fixed prices, which are the basis of ordinary profits, it is impossible. The problem here is to give enterprise and sagacity a fair field without vio- lating the law of love. And 1st, If the ground on which a change of prices is expected is equally known, or accessible to both parties, all agree that the transaction is fair. 2d, If one party has the power to cause fluctuations in price, and buys or seUs with the intention of doing this, all wiU agi'ee that this is swindling. But 3d, If there be a RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 191 certainty that there will be a rise of price in consequence of an event known only to the pur- chaser, then the inquiry is whether he may avail himself of his knowledge. On this opinions differ. It may be said on the one hand that the owner receives full compensation for his property as esti- mated by any price he may have given for it, any labor he may have bestowed upon it, or any expec- tations he may have formed from it, and that if there is to be an increase of value without labor — if somebody is to gain without loss to anybody, it may as fairly be the man who by his enterprise or good fortune has the knowledge as he who has the property. It may be said on the other hand that when a man raises a crop, he does it with the ex- pectation of any advantage that may accrue through unforeseen events, and that for a quicker or more fortunate man who has bestowed upon it no labor at all, to step in and seize an advantage that would have been his in the natural course of events is not strictly honest, to say nothing of the law of love. In solving such cases, it may be said that society may be established and exist permanently cosperation . . , i n . . *nd compe- on two pnnciples — that of competition, ttuon. and that of cooperation. The first has its advantages, and the evils of it are diminished as general intelli- gence is increased. Under it the evils of ignorance are felt peouniaj^ly, and intelligence is thus stimu- lated. Under this system transactions like the 192 MORAL SCIENCE. above would be allowable. It is only transactions based on such a system that human law can regulate. But the principle of cooperation is far higher, and the results would be better. This would require that each man should be made acquainted with the facts, and not only be permitted to act in view of them, but be advised respecting them. The above is a common case. There is another less common and diifering from it in one respect. - A man discovers a mine on the farm of another. May he buy the farm and say nothing of the mine ? In the above case advantage would accrue to the holders of the property despite the will of him who had the knowledge, but here the whole increased value comes from the knowledge and is dependent upon it. May not he then who has the knowledge avail himself of the whole of the increased value ? So it would seem, and yet if men had confidence in each other as disposed to act on the principle of cooperation, the owner would be informed of the facts, and would share the profits equally with him who informed him. In connection with this subject it should be said that nothing tends more strongly to demoralize a community than unsteady prices. It unsettles in- dustry, and promotes a spirit of gambling ; and any legislation that so tampers with the currency, or disturbs values in any way as to produce this, will aifect disastrously the moral, no les| than the pecu niary interests of the country. RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 193 But property is not only parted with permanently by sale or exchange, but also temporarily Temporary » . '■ . alienation tor a compensation, it it be money, it of property, is loaned ; if real estate, it is rented ; if a horse, it is let. Money differs from other property in being created by law for the public convenience. Hence its amount, the conditions on which it may be issued, and the rate of interest have always been re- garded as proper subjects of legislation. The pub- lic must have a right to prevent that which it creates for its convenience from becoming an injury, but the precise legislation required will be a question of expediency rather than of morals. Where money is abundant, and the amount in a country is large, and especially in a commercial community, it may be wise to permit men to take what interest they can, when under other circumstances it would not. And banks, being created for the convenience of the public, may be restricted in their rate of interest when individuals would not. Their possible com- bination and power to control the currency may require this. The rule is, that all possible freedom compatible with the public interest should be con- ceded in their use of money both to banks and to individuals. This being understood, bargains in regard to interest are to be regulated on the same principles as other bargains. When money is loaned, money is to be returned, but when real estate is rented, or when horses and 13 194 MORAL SCIENCE. carriages are let, the same property is to be re- turned. In the mean time the property may be abused ; and this gives rise to the rule in such cases that it is to be used only for the purpose for which it was rented or let, and that the same care is to be taken of it that a reasonably careful man would take of his own property. If, in connection with such care, the property should be injured by acci- dent in the use contemplated in the bargain, the loss win fall on the owner ; if in any other use, on the person in temporary possession. Property is also often lent without compensation simply for the convenience of the borrower. In this case the lender is under obligation not to de- mand it arbitrarily and without reference to the specific use for which it was borrowed. The bor- rower is under obUgation to use the property with care and to return it p'omjptly. CHAPTEE IV. RIGHT TO REPUTATION. The next right that belongs to man is that of Reputation. The desire of esteem is as natural as that of property, and is equally the foundation of a right. With most it is a stronger desire, and so the foun- dation of a right that is more precious. If there are those who say with the Roman miser, — " Popnlas me sibilat at mihi plaudo, Ipse domi simul ac nnmmos contemplar in area," " The people hiss me, but I applaud myself at home, while I gloat over my hoarded riches," — they are but few. In the Scriptures a desire for this is en- couraged, and it is set above property. " A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold." With many, reputation is dearer than life, and as society is now constituted, the means of enjoying hfe are even more dependent on this than upon property. If knowledge is power so is reputation, and espe- cially is it power in the form of influence. If then a man have such a possession, we may not detract from it except foi a good reason. 196 MORAL SCIENCE. The most common mode in which the right of This right reputation is violated is by slande,r. The tate4T'°sia,n- esscHce of this hes in diminishing the rep- '*"■ utation of another without good cause, whether by truth or falsehood. It was formerly a maxim of law " the greater the truth, the greater the slander." The reason of this was that the truth tended more to injure reputation than false- hood. Now, however, the courts accept the plea of truth in mitigation of damages, and generally in full justification. The malice or the mischief may be as great, or even greater, if only truth be told ; but society is not bound to shield a man by its laws from the natural results of his own acts when fairly made known. Slander may be malicious, selfish, or inconsid- erate. It is seldom probably from pure malice. That is not the usual form of human wickedness. But there is scarcely a position or occupation in life in which any considerable reputation will not so bring him who has it into competition with others, that it shall either be, or be supposed to be, for their in- terest to ha've it diminished. And as the facilities for slander are almost unlimited, as the modes of it, by insinuation, hints, injunctions of secrecy, so tend to veil its real nature, as it has so many shades, and as there is not the same danger of legal prosecution as in taking from the property of another, our treat- ment of others in regard to their reputation, when they are in competition with us, becomes one of the most trying tests of character. EIGHT TO REPUTATION. 197 The test of character is however scarcely less severe under the temptations in the ordinary inter- course of society to inconsiderate slander. There is here no malice, no competition, no special object, but topics of conversation are needed ; there is excitement in telling news, and words really slan- derous are uttered unmindful of the exaggerations that are sure to follow, and of the deep wounds they may give. In such a case lack of criminal intention is no more an excuse than it would be in a man who should throw the slates of a roof he might be repairing into the street of a city careless of the passers below. Against the higher forms of slander a man of average principle would be guarded, but it was probably with special reference to the'se lighter forms that the Apostle James says, " If any man oflfend not in word the same is a perfect man and able to bridle the whole body." Christians are re- quired to lay aside " all evil speaking." They are to be put in mind "to speak evil of no man." So carefully do the Scriptures guard the sacred and precious right of reputation. It would appear thus that there are two distinct cases in speaking of others when reputa- KeputaMon tion is in question. In the one an indi- diminishea. vidual has a reputation, and we know of nothing he has done either in gaining it or since it was gained that, if truthfiiUy stated, would diminish it. To diminish reputation in such a case would be to add 198 MORAL SCIENCE. the guilt of lying to that of slander. We have no more right to do it than we have to steal. In the second case an individual has a reputation, but we know things either in regard to his mode of gain- ing it, or that he has done since, which, if truthfully stated, would diminish or perhaps blast it. In this case we are not only permitted to state what we know, but are bound to do it when required to do it by justice, or for the protection of the innocent, or for the good of the offender ; but we are to do it with the temper and limitations required by the law of love. But reputation may be diminished not only by slander, but also by ridicule. The obiect 01 this is to awaken contempt. This may be proper when provoked by pretense or affectation, by extravagance or absurdity, perhaps by persistent awkwardness or carelessness, but never to bring into contempt anything that is genuine. The mo- ment this is done, — and it may be done towards anv man, — however keen the wit, or perfect the mimicry, or droll the caricature, we obscure the distinction between that which is reputable and venerable, and that which is contemptible, and thus not only wrong the individual, but undermine those higher sentiments on which the stability of the community depends. Ridicule is an effective weapon, but re- quires care in its use, and out of its sphere is de- moralizing and dangerous. CHAPTER V. MGHT TO TRUTH. We have now considered the rights commonly mentioned as belonging to all men, — the general right to security, the right to life, to liberty, to property, and to reputation. I am inclined to say there is still another — the right to truth. This has the same foundation as other rights, that is, in its necessity to men for the attainment by them of their ends ; it is often so spoken of as to imply that it is a right, as when one is said to have no right to the truth, and in grave cases men are put under oath and the right is enforced by law. We should hence have naturally expected that it would be regarded as a right and classed among the others. Whewell does, indeed, place the right of contract among the primary rights of men, and bases it on the need of mutual understanding. But in that mutual understanding which is essential to the order of society there is no proper contract. Nor is such understaxiding by any means wholly based on anything that can be called either a con- tract or a promise. Men act on expectation based, either, as in nature, on uniformity of causation 200 MORAL SCIENCE. without reference to obligation; or on confidence in those who have voluntarily excited expectation and who feel, on that ground, bound not to disappoint it. Which then is the prevalent element in the affairs of life ? A man keeps a shop. Do I expect to find it open during business hours because he is under contract, or has promised to keep it open? No, he may shut it up for a holiday, as John Gilpin did his, and break no contract ; or he may shut it up indefinitely and give no notice. My expectation in this, and in a multitude of similar cases, is based on that uniform operation of motives, which, aside from any sense of obligation and in compatibility with freedom, gives stability and consistency to con- duct. It may be difficult, it is, to separate expec- tation thus based from that which rests upon an implied promise. This always exists when expec- tation is voluntarily excited, and carries obligation with it, and it is from the two combined that we feel so secure of the uniform conduct of those around us. So far, however, as a right exists in this case, I should prefer to call it a right to tmth rather than a right of contract, though it is perhaps of little consequence what we call it. But such cases are on the same general ground with others, in which there is certainly no contract. All human interests connect themselves with truth. As has been said, men act on expectation, and can act successftiUy only as their expectations are well founded, that is, as they are founded in truth. But RIGHT TO TRUTH. 201 God has made men so dependent on each other for information, that neither the ends of the individual nor those of society can be attained unless the repre- sentations which they make to each other are large- ly true, and what I say is, that when any legitimate end of another depends on his being told the truth, he has a right to the truth. It must be so or there are no rights. A traveller asks the right road. He has a right to the truth. A child asks if a berry be poisonous. It has a right to the truth, and such cases are so numerous, that a right to truth seems to me among the most sacred and important of our rights. But it may be asked, who shall decide when a man has a right to the truth. In some cases the law decides it. Where it does not, the person of whom it is demanded must decide. Certainly he who asks an impertinent question, or any question not essential to the attainment by himself of some legitimate end, has no right to the truth, though the absence of such right will not justify a lie. A right to truth, as stated above, will include that of contract whether express or implied. If any say that a right which cannot be en- forced is no right, it is replied that this is enforced every time an oath is taken, for the only object of an oath is to enforce the truth ; and that this right can be enforced quite as fully as the right to repu- tation. DIVISION II. DUTIES EEGAEDING THE WANTS OF OTHERS. — • — CHAPTER I, JUSTICE AND BENEVOLENCE. Having considered Rights, we next pass to the supply of Wants. This is the second great class of duties required hy love as a law. The transition here is from the duties of justice, to those of benevolence. Between these there are important differences. These were formerly indi- cated by saying that the obligations and claims of justice were perfect, while those of benevolence were imperfect. But this form of expression was objected to as weakening the force of obligation, and of late the differences themselves have been too much overlooked. But it is one thing for a man to ask for the pay- ment of a debt, and quite another, however great may be his need, to ask for charity. In the first case he has a right to the money, and the person owing it is under obligation to pay it on the ground of that right. In the second case the person asking has no right to the money, but it may still be right JUSTICE AND BENEVOLENCE. 203 for the person asked to give it, and he may be under obligation to do so. There may be a claim of humanity, if not of justice, and an obligation on the ground of that claim where there is no right. Hence the first diflPerence between the duties of justice and those of benevolence will be that one respects rights, and the other right. These are gen- erally coincident, that is, it is generally right for a man to do what he has a right to do ; but they may be opposed. A rich landlord may have a right to collect his rent from a poor widow upon whom un- expected and unavoidable misfortune has fallen, and take from her her last crust and her last blanket, but it would not be right. The rent might be justly due, the claim might be valid in law, the law might enforce it, and properly, for otherwise there could be no law; but it would not be morally right. A second difference, growing out of the first, is, that as rights are capable of definition and precise limitation, the obligations growing out of them may be enforced by human law, whereas that which is right, being incapable of such definition and limita- tion, the obligation growing out of it cannot be thus enforced. Hence the proper business of legislation is to secure to all their rights, and not to oblige any to do right. If there are courts of equity their object is not to compel the doing of right, but to prevent the doing of wrong through the imperfec- tions and under the forms of law. That legislation 204 MORAL SCIENCE. should seek to pass from the guardianship of rights to an attempt to compel the doing of right, is nat- ural ; but this has seldom been done without con- fusion and mischief. A third difference between the duties of justice and those of benevolence is, that while rights are the ground of a claim, and he in whom they vest may properly be indignant if the claim be not met, he who asks aid as charity can never make a claim, and has no ground for indignation if his claim be reiused. It may be that the person asked is under obligation to give, but of that he who asks is not to be the judge. If he might be, two spheres totally different would be at once confounded. Goodness must be free to choose its own methods, else it would not be goodness. The rich man who refused all applicants for aid, and lived in odium that he might accumulate enough to supply a city with water, was afterwards justified and lauded. He was under obligation to be beneficent, but was at liberty to choose his own methods ; and even if he had not chosen to recognize the obligation, it was not for those who had no claim on him but that of humanity to call him to account. A fourth difiFerence is, that while a fulfillment of the obligations corresponding to rights excites no gratitude, a fulfillment of obligation in doing right by supplying wants, does excite gratitude. No man is grateful for the payment of a debt. It is simple justice, and is, or should be, a matter of course. JUSTICE AND BENEVOLENCE. 205 But if wants are gratuitously supplied, even though, as in the case of the good Samaritan, the benefactor could not fail of supplying them without a violation of obligation, gratitude is felt. The reason is that in the one case the man receives simply what is hia own, what he has a right to, and may claim ; and this is always thus where simple justice is done. The natural order of things, except as provided for by the natural affections, is that every one should have his rights and supply his own wants. In this there would be no call for gratitude, while any interference with this order by an infraction of rights would awaken indignation. But when this natural order has been broken in upon, and there is want or suffering for which he who gives relief is in no way responsible, then the supply of that want, and the relief of that suffering, can come only from simple goodness ; and such goodness manifested in behalf of any individual is the proper ground of gratitude. Be it that the benefactor is under ob- ligation to be good. The action of the moral nature enters into, and forms a part of goodness. But this obligation having been recognized, and goodness, instead of its opposite, having been freely chosen, the exercise of such goodness towards an individual whose rights we have not violated, and whose wants and sufferings are from no agency of ours, is a ground for gratitude, and all the ground there can be. There is no contrariety, as some seem to think, between a pervasive moral nature 206 MORAL SCIENCE. on the one hand, and the utmost freedom of choice and the fullest play of every generous affection on the other. That these affections should have wide scope is right, and if there be obligation it is only to the choice of that which is inherently lovely in the promotion of good. CHAPTER II. SUPPLy OF THE WANTS OP OTHERS. With this view of the differences between the duties of justice and those of benevolence we pro- ceed to consider what the law of love would require in the supply of physical wants. Give a person all his rights, and it is to be expected that he will supply his own wants. From the feebleness of infancy and of age, and from sickness, this is, however, often impossible ; and then, though there be no claim but that of human- ity, love would require others to supply them. Here two propositions are to be established. The first is, that whenever a person has i^„gaa- all his rights, and it is possible for him to ™tou^nt supply his own wants, love not only does '""'"y- not require us to supply them, but positively for- bids it if our doing so would encourage either indo- lence or vice. Intelligent activity is the great source of good to man. It is the foundation of self-respect and of the respect of others. Beauty of person and talent we admire, but these are gifts. Will, intelligently exerted for a worthy end, is the only object of 208 MORAL SCIENCE. approval. Mental attainments always, and wealth generally, — the great means of doing good to others, — depend on such activity. There is be- sides, as the inseparable concomitant of such activ- ity, a satisfaction of the highest kind, and that can come in no other way. Of this activity, want is the appointed stiniulus. Opposed to it is indolence, a besetting sin of the race ; the mother, not only of imbecility, but of every vice — and in the stern contest of God's ordinance of want with this sin, love cannot interfere. An apostle commanded, " If any would not work, neither should he eat." The second proposition is that when it is im- whenwMits possible for persons to supply their own Suppiw by wants. Love requires that they be sup- others. p]ig(j by others. This impossibility as it appears in infancy, in sick- ness, in disability from accident or sudden calamity, and in old age, is divinely appointed as a part of our condition here ; and over against it we find the promptings and claims of natural affection, of friend- ship, of neighborhood, and of humanity. In the spontaneous play of these, if we could but exclude indolence and vice, we should find an adequate pro- vision for the supply of all wants. The wants and liabilities of each would but tend to the union of the whole, and the burden of their supply, if indeed it would be a burden, would not be greater than the discipline of character would require. No legislation would be needed. But indolence and SUPPLY OF THE WANTS OF OTHERS. 209 vice do exist, and from them come want and suffer- ing that assume such proportions as to require legislative action. May not, then, such want and suffering be left to the provision made by law? No ; and this for the sake of both parties. Legislation can do much, but when its provisiona are best administered it is impersonal ; Legislation like the laws of Nature, it must go by cienttoBe- ^ '' cure this general rules, and so cannot touch the supply. heart. It has in it the power of relief, but not of reform. It may reach want, but not character, and till that is reached nothing effectual or permanent is done. The present life is not retributive, but disciplinary, and when the laws of well-being have been so far transgressed as to bring want and suffer- ing that call for charity, these should lead to refor- mation. But this they seldom do. More often we find either a hardened defiance or a languid and hopeless discouragement. What is then needed is such kindness and sympathy as will bring to the poor and suffering and degraded the hope of res- toration to his own self-respect, and to the respect and love of others. This can come only from a manifestation of individual and personal interest. Love begets love, and for all who can love there is hope. If love thus manifested, and seconded by the natural fruits of transgression, will not work a reformation, no human effort can avail. Nor will the highest interests of the benefactor himself permit that the relief of want and suffering 210 MORAL SCIENCE. from indolence and vice should be left to legislation alone. If we except the forgiveness of enemies, and kindness to those injurious to us personally, there is no way in which Christ can be imitated so closely as by doing good to the degraded through their own fault, and to those seemingly lost. There is no achievement like that of lifting a man sunk in vice and enchained by evil habits onto the high ground of Christian manhood, and fixing him permanently there ; and the more there is of sympathy, and of effort for this, the more is the character improved. For the sake of both parties then, we are for- bidden to remit the care of the poor by their own fault to provision made by law. DIVISION in. PEEFEOTING AND DIRECTING THE POWERS OF OTHERS. ♦ CHAPTER I. DUTY OF INFLUENCE FROM THE RELATION OF CHAR- ACTER TO WELL-BEING OBSTACLES TO CHANGE OF INTELLECTUAL STATE AND OF CHARACTER But we are not only to supply the physical wants of men as we have opportunity, we are also to seek to perfect and direct their powers. In speaking of our duty to ourselves, nothing was said of directing the powers, because they were sup- posed to be under the direction of the law of love. The inquiry was what love, supposed to exist, would require us to do. But as a condition of well- being, a right direction of the powers, so far as it can be distinguished from perfection, is even more important than that. It is necessary to progress toward perfection. There is here a distinction to be made between the intellectual and moral powers. For the im- provement of the moral powers the two conditions of activity, and right direction, are requisite, but activity alone is needed to improve the intellectnal 212 MORAL SCIENCE. powers. The burglar gains adroitness and skill in picking the lock as rapidly as the lock-maker in guarding against him. With given activity it matters little for purposes of skill and efficiency on what objects the intellect is employed, or for what end. But if the moral powers are not em- ployed on right objects and directed to a right end, there is not only perversion but deterioration. The more active they are the more they deterio- rate. If, therefore, we would do the highest good to men we must seek, not only to perfect their powers, but to perfect the moral powers by direct- ing them rightly. Our object must be to produce a change not merely in the condition, but in the state of men ; and not merely in their intellectual state involving acquisitions and capacity, but in their moral state which involves, or rather which is, character. And here, in character, whether we would con- Sj'Stor"' s^lt for oui" ^"^^ good, or that of others, tatog"' ^'^ fi"ud. self. By chastity is meant personal purity, and upon the violation of this, whether by solitary or social vice, God has set the seal of his condemnation by the effects of it upon both the body and the mind. All solitary vice tends to weakness and insanity, the extent of both which from this cause is little suspected ; and in connection with the social vice there is a disease, one of the most loathsome and wretched ever known, which seems to have been sent as a special judgment and check upon it. RELATION OF THE SEXES : CHASTITY. 247 Nor is the effect upon the mind less debasing. " However it may be accounted for," says Paley, " the criminal intercourse of the sexes corrupts and depraves the mind and moral character more than any single species of vice whatsoever. That ready perception of guilt, that prompt and decisive resolu- tion against it, which constitutes a virtuous charac- ter, is seldom found in persons addicted to these indulgences. They prepare an easy admission for every sin that seeks it ; are in low life, usually the first stage in men's progress to the most desperate villainies ; and in high life to that lamented disso- luteness of principle, which manifests itself in a profligacy of public conduct, and a contempt of the obligations of religion and of moral probity. Add to this that habits of libertinism incapacitate and indispose the mind for all intellectual, moral, and religious pleasures, which is a great loss to any man's happiness." 2. Obedience to the law of chastity is a duty to the community. From the time of Sodom, Effect upon sins of hcentiousnesss have been the chief munity. cause of the corruption and downfall of nations. There is no ruin and degradation like that which these sins bring upon the woman, and there is no general debasement like that of a great city deeply infected with this class of vices, and those that in- evitably accompany them. If men could be brought to obey the laws of God in regard to chastity and marriage, and also in regard to narcotic and intox- 248 MORAL SCIENCE. icating substances, laws written not only in his Word, but in their physical and moral nature, the great obstacle to the intellectual and moral improve- ment of the race would be removed. Abstinence from these is not virtue. It may give greater skill to fraud, or more power to ambition, but it is a con- dition of virtue. It is in connection with these sins that man is capable of degrading himself below the brutes ; and through them what is called civiliza- tion, that is, skill in literature and the arts, and in producing the elegancies and luxuries of life, may coexist with a state of society to which the savage state would be infinitely preferable. Certainly every one owes it to society to do what he can to relieve it from this incubus. In combating this class of sins in ourselves the Theimagi- proper point to guard is the imagination nation tobe'^f' ° . =". guarded. and the thoughts. This is the citadel. With this sufficiently guarded, we may go anywhere and be subject to any form of outward temptation, for " to the pure all things are pure." But few only can go thus. Against no class of sins do we more need to put up the petition : " Lead us not into temptation." We need to guard the senses, especially as temptation may come through them in the guise of the fine arts, which have often been of great efficiency in corrupting a people. CHAPTER IV. EIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MABRIAGE. After the general duty of chastity it will be in order to consider : — 1. The rights and duties of the sexes in their re- lations to each other previous to marriage. 2. The rights and duties, in their relation to each other, of those who are married. 3. The law of divorce. 4. The rights and duties of parents. 5. The duties and rights of children. 1. Of the rights and duties of the sexes in their relations to each other previous to marriage. These will relate, first, to the period pre- Rights and , , , duties before vious to being engaged to be married. engagement. That is a critical period when young persons first awake to a consciousness of those sentiments which are to unite them so closely, and to affect so nearly their own happiness and that of the coming gener- ations. A new world is opened up to them full of susceptibility, emotion, sentiment, romance, passion, and with capabilities of both happiness and misery unutterable. What shall be done ? Left to them- 250 MORAL SCIENCE. selves, there is clanger of imprudence and misjudg- ment. Controlled by others, there is danger that that which is highest in sentiment and purest in af- fection will he sacrificed to fancied interest, or to ambition. It is not easy for the parties themselves, much less for others, to distinguish the glamour of a transient infatuation from the conscious recogni- tion and opening aflPection of two natures made to supplement each other. In the freshness and glow of such sentiments prudence is spurned, and an ap- peal to duty seems cold and impertinent. Hence, in some countries, in most indeed, young persons have been kept during this period under the strict- est surveillance, and everything pertaining to mar- riage has been regulated by others. Among the Moravians, partners were, until recently, assigned by lot. There are persons living in this country now who obtained their wives in that way. But in this country now it is virtually in the hands of the young people themselves, giving rise doubtless to greater happiness in some cases, but in others to mistakes and scenes both ludicrous and sad. By those who have had opportunity to observe it has been gravely questioned which course is best. In any way there will be persons unmatched and mis- matched. But however this may be, this matter not only now is, but will continue to be chiefly in the hands of those more immediately concerned, and in view of that they have duties whether they will heed them or not. RIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRUGE. 251 And here the one duty of those whose affections are yet free is to withhold themselves from any at- tempt to awaken affection in another except with a view to marriage. This will be hard where there IS conscious beauty and power ; vanity and pride will plead strongly, and many will go as far as they can or dare. But the existence of an affection that cannot be requited is a great evil, and to awaken purposely, or to seek to awaken such an affection, is a crime. It is trifling with feelings that God in- tended should be sacred, and causes a revulsion that nothing else can. It makes cynics and misan- thropes of the most hopeless kind. One who can thoughtlessly or heartlessly trifle with a true affec- tion, or who mocks at it and treats all claim to it as a pretense, is lost, — is incapable of even conceiv- ing of the great happiness there is in affection with security for its basis, and which God intended should be connected with the marriage state. Only when there is a view to marriage may that more intimate acquaintance be sought which will justify an en- gagement, and when the parties are on this footing, the one duty is frankness in relation to everything that could affect the feelings of the opposite party. After an engagement is entered into, the rights and duties of the parties become more lughtsand ■I /* - mi • 111 duties after definite. The parties are now betrothed, engagemcDt. affianced, engaged to each other by a promise only less sacred than that of marriage. They are, and should be known to be, in such relation to each 252 MORAL SCIKNCE. other that it would be criminal in either of them to seek the affection of another, and that it will be criminal in any other to seek the affection of either of them. The length of an engagement involves no prin- ciple except that neither party has a right to pro- long the time beyond that desired by the other, without good reason. In general, short engage- ments are best. The levity and capriciousness with which such en- gagements are broken are to be deprecated. If it be found that there was concealment or deception in relation to anything material at the time of the engagement, or if there be gross immorality or licentiousness subsequently, the other party will be justified in breaking the engagement. Nothing short of one or the other of these can justify such a step of one party without the consent honorably obtained of the other. An engagement is not mar- riage, but only preliminary to one, the object of which is a happy life in the attainment of the ends of marriage. Incident to an engagement, though not the object of it, is a more perfect acquaintance, and if, in connection with this it should appear that their mutual happiness is not likely to be secured, and this shall be the opinion of each, they are not only at liberty, but are bound to break an engage- ment which they find to have been made under a misapprehension, though, it may be, without fault on either side. EIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRIAGE. 253 Perhaps it ought to be said, as the affections of ■woman are stronger than those of man, and as she is not allowed the initiative, so that the injury of a broken engagement would be greater to her, it is incumbent on the man to be especially scrupulous on this point. The reciprocal rights and duties of husbands and wives grow, like all others, from the law jjig^t, ^^^ of love, but from that law as applied in S^itnL this special and most intimate and sacred '"""^™- relation. With the affection that should form the basis of marriage, the happiness that may flow from it is greater than any other not distinctively religious. It is, indeed, made in the Scriptures a type of that higher happiness which is to flow to the church from her union with Christ. A failure to attain this hap- piness can arise only from ignorance or from a want of right purposes and dispositions. There is often ignorance or misapprehension of the reciprocal rights and duties involved in mar- riage. God has indicated in the structure of the physical frame, and in the mental characteristics which correspond, different spheres of duty for the husband and the wife. The adaptation of each sex to its sphere is equally perfect, and as both are parts of one indivisible race, the terms superior and in- ferior are not properly applicable. What is needed is a distinct recognition by, each sex of its own sphere, and a cheerful acceptance of its responsi- bilities and duties. The object is unity through 254 MOKAL SCIENCE. diversity, and, within limits, the greater the diver- sity the greater the beauty of the possible unity. If God has made, as He has, by nature and by revelation, the husband the head of the house, then the truest and best happiness of the wife will be found only in recognizing him in that relation. If God has made it the business of the wife to " guide the house," then the husband will find his peace and happiness in giving her the reins ip that depart- ment. Of course there are exceptions, as there are to the command to children to obey their parents. If the parent become imbecile, or intoxicated, or command the child to steal, he is bound not to obey. The relation is changed, and the law of love must be interpreted by the relation. So it is universally. If through ignorance, or inadvertence, or wayward speculations and theories of equality that recognize no difference, the natural relations fail of recognition, the fiill benefits of marriage cannot be realized, though the temper may be right. But while ignorance is one cause of failure in Oanwe of married life, the great source of trouble is nnhappi- i> • i i t neas. a want or right purposes and dispositions. It is some form of selfishness on one part, or both. The husband is imperious, exacting, unsympathiz- ing, self-indulgent, perhaps sensual to the extent of vice. The wife is indolent, neglectful, extravagant, does not talk as much as she should. Perhaps there was an original failure of a full commitment of each to each, so that there never has been that conscious RIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRIAGE. 255 unity ani perfect confidence in which the charm of married Hfe consists, for next to loving with a per- fect love is the happiness of a perfect confidence, and of an assurance that love is returned. The great duty then will be to cherish and cultivate mutual love. But can love be cultivated ? On this point there is much misapprehension. Love is radi- cultivation cally an act of will. True, that which "f'"™- leads to marriage is accompanied by admiration, by desire, by sentiment, but these do not become love till the will authorizes them by an act of choice, and this fact gives the wUl an indirect control over all the emotions and feelings connected with it. In the first place then, each can cultivate those qualities in themselves that will tend to secure love. Each can seek to become more lovable. A reso- lute purpose and persevering effort in this will work surprising changes, and is far better than complaints of want of affection. Such complaints tend only to aggravate the difficulty. In the second place, hus- band and wife may seek, and are bound to seek, the improvement of each other ; and by this I mean not merely intellectual improvement, but improvement in all that is a ground of esteem and of rational affec- tion. The mode and measure of this will so depend upon their relative age, upon acquirements and temperament, that no details can be given ; but a dis- position to give and to accept aid in this way will greatly tend to mutual love. But in the third place, 256 MORAL SCIENCE. and which is perhaps quite as important as either, we can form the habit of looking at excellences and overlooking deficiencies and even faults. Let each party adopt the spirit of the couplet — " Be to her virtues very kind, Be to her faults a little blind." and it would, I will not say pour oil upon the troubled waters, but would prevent them from ever becoming so troubled as to "cast up mire and dirt." This I say on the supposition that there are faults to be overlooked and follies to be kind to, but if there are, and I have known such, husbands whose wives have for them no faults or follies, and if there are wives whose husbands have none, these remarks do not apply to them. In these ways a vast deal may be done in the cul- tivation of mutual love, and this, as inclusive of all other duties, and sure to draw them after it, and also as being so little understood and appreciated, is the one great duty that needs to be inculcated upon those in the marriage state. CHAPTER V. THE LAW OF DIVOKCE. Maekiagb, as we have seen, involves a union Burednesa altogether peculiar. In its perfection it is of marriago. ^ spiritual union, and only in it does the life of each party become complete. That this union should be, and should be understood to be for life, is essential to the interests of both parties, to the wel fare of children, and to the interests of the State. Only on the condition of such understanding can there be a perfect commitment of each to each, and that perfect community of interest and of life which radically separates marriage from all forms of pros- titution and unlawful cohabitation. As thus pecu- liar and sacred, the original institution of God was that the union should be of one man with one woman, and for life. Under the Mosaic dispensa- tion divorce was permitted on various grounds, but the original ground and sacredness of marriage was not lost sight of. This appears from a remark- able passage in Malachi showing the unreasonable- ness and evils of both polygamy and divorce, and the displeasure of God towards them. " And this," Bays he, " have ye done again, covering the altar of 17 258 MORAL SCIENCE. the Lord with tears, with weeping, and with crying out, insomuch that he regardeth not the offering any more, or receiveth it with good will at your hand. Yet ye say, wherefore ? Because the Lord hath been witness between thee and the wife of thy youth against whom thou hast dealt treacherously. Yet is she thy companion and the wife of thy covenant. And did not he make one ? Yet had he the residue of the Spirit." He might have made any number as easily. " And wherefore one ? " continues the pro- phet. " That he might seek a godly seed. There- fore take heed to your spirit, and let none deal treacherously against the wife of his youth. For the Lord God of Israel saith that he hateth putting away." What a picture ! Poor wronged women bathing the altar of God with their tears ; those who did the wrong seeking to be religious by offerings while they yet held on to the wrong ; God rejecting their offerings, asserting the law of marriage, declar- ing that He made one woman for a perpetual union with one man that the children might be trained for Himself, and implying that this could be done in no other way. The original law of marriage, thus asserted by Malachi, Christ fully restored. This law is based on the very nature of marriage, and is confirmed by the fact that rather more males than females are born, allowance being made for their greater expos- ure to the causes of death. This has been so felt to be a law of nature that among various nations, THE LAW OF DIVORCE. 259 the Romans and Scythians, who have not had the light of revelation, marriage has been held sacred, adultery has been punished by death ; and the very law of divorce laid down by Christ has been adopted. Hence it is the duty of Christian States to make this law their standard, and to approximate it as nearly as the state of public sentiment will allow. No doubt there are cases of peculiar hard- ship. Persons of uncongenial temperaments and tempers are united. There will be ill-assorted mar- riages and misadjustments of every degree. There will be vice and abandonment on one part or the other, and such cases are liable to be of peculiar hardship to the woman. But facility of divorce will set back its influence to the very fountain-head of the institution. It will affect the spirit with which marriage is entered upon ; it will generate and mul- tiply the very evils for which divorce is sought. Nothing can so tend to repress petty differences, liable to become exaggerated into permanent feuds, as the consciousness, always felt like a pervading at- mosphere, even when it is not recognized, that they are inseparably united and must be mutually depend- ent. If facility of divorce be sought, as it is, on the ground of cases of special hardship to women, it is to be remembered that the evils of divorce fall with peculiar hardship upon her, and that the purity and general elevation of the sex will always be in proportion to the strictness with which the law of marriage is enforced. CHAPTER VI. RIGHTS AND DXJTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDKEN. In considering the reciprocal rights and duties of parents and children, we are, as before, to be guided by the Law of Love interpreted by the re- lation. The child is entrusted to the parents by God. In its original weakness, ignorance, and en- tire dependence, the parents have, and must have, the right of entire control. As the child becomes capable of taking care of itself, this right will be modified, till, at length, when the occasion for it shall cease, the right will cease altogether. This is typified by what we see among the' lower animals. They have no knowledge of rights, but the care and control of the young is provided for by an in- stinct which ceases when the young are able to take care of themselves. If the young need no care, there is no instinct, showing how carefully every- thing in nature is furnished and regulated with ref- erence to ends. The right of control thus belonging to the parent is to be used, first, to promote the end of the child, and second, of the family. The end of the child is not identical with what is RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 261 sometimes caUed, and supposed to be, the good of the child, consisting in his own personal advance- ment or enjoyment, in some " summum honum " that can belong to him alone ; but it is the very end indicated in his constitution, and for which God made him, that is, not merely to be a recipient of good, but an originator and promoter of it, in sym- pathy -with God in his spirit, and in harmony with Hira in his methods. It will thus enter into the con- ception of his end that he should promote the good of the family. In marriage and in the birth of children the fam- ily is constituted. This is a divine institution hav- ing an end that can be reached only through all its members; and while the child may not be, aa the ancients supposed, used selfishly, as a thing, for the good of the parent, he may yet be required to do all things that are legitimately for the ends of the family. He may be required to labor for the com- mon support, and it is the duty of the parent so far to control each child that no one shall interfere with the rights of any of the others. This right of control may and should be en- forced by physical means if necessary. There is an end to be attained for the child himself It is of the last importance to him that he should be taught obedience and subordination. These are in the or- der of God's providence, and he who does not know how to obey will never know how to rule. The same thing is important to the peace of the family 262 MORAL SCIENCE. and of society, and must be secured by every legit- imate means. Let persuasion be tried. Let reason be appealed to ; but if these will not suffice, the rod should not be spared. Perhaps the rod was for- merly used too much. It will be quite as mischiev- ous in every way to use it too little. The child has a rational nature, but may not be reasonable. He has also an animal nature, and there is no reason why that should not be appealed to. Do you think it degrading to your child to whip him ? You need not do that. "Whip the mule that is in him. If possible whip it out of him, and then you will have a child and not a mule. The less we have of the use of the rod the better, but government, subor- dination, order, must be maintained, and if these cannot be had without the rod, the parent is dere- lict in his duty if he do not use it. The rights of the parent are for the sake of his First duty of dutics, and to enable him to perform ^^ot'thy^ them. His first duty is to provide for phys- ical wants, jgj^j ^a,nts, in whole or in part, according to the age of the child, and to make such provision as shall comport with his condition in life. He is bound to provide for his health and physical devel- opment, and to put him to no such employment in kind or degree as shall interfere with these. The second duty of the parent is to secure such Second duty intellectual education and such training, ednoation. j^^ g^j^g industrial pursuit, or in some pro- fession, as shall secure his support and his useful- RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 263 ness as a citizen. It might be supposed that nat- ural aflfection would secure this, but in all states of society there are individual cases in which it does not, and it is found that high civilization and aggre- gate labor have hitherto, by some misadjustment, precipitated a stratum of society in which artificial appetite and animal want have so been the prevail- ing element as to subordinate natural affections, making the children mere instruments of selfishness, and dooming them, almost by necessity, to a similar condition. It is this state of things that has justi- fied, and that alone could justify an interference by society with the hours of labor, which, we should naturally suppose, parents would best know how to regulate. It is the duty of the parent to make over to society good material for its upbuilding, and if any class of parents fail to do this, society not only has the right, but is bound in self-defense to inter- fere. The third great duty of the parent relates to moral and religious training. " Man does T^irdduty not live by bread alone," nor can the ""jj'*"* child. He is capable of being trained for '^'"''■'e- God, and God has entrusted him to the parent that he may be thus trained. The only effectual way in whicli the parent can do this is himself to be what the child should be. There is in example an im- perceptible and pervading influence that can be had in no other way. Let this be good in principle, and judicious in outward form, and all other good in- 264 MORAL SCIENCE. fluences will, almost of course, fall into its train. Let this be evil, and it will be mainly through this, in connection with physical deterioration, that the miquities of the fathers wiU be visited upon the children to the third and fourth generation. But besides this, much may be done in giving direction to reading, in regulating associations, in forming habits. And all this, especially the forma- tion of habits of thought and feeling, as well as of action, is to be begun very early. They will then become incorporated into the life as they will not be likely to be, and perhaps never can be afterwards. In all this there is to be care not to do anything obtrusively or in excess. Much harm has been done by bending the bow too far. It flies back. It may be diflScult in the stress and pressure which active business life, and especially public life, brings upon men to give the time needed for such training of children, but no folly can be greater than that so common in this country, by which parents make themselves slaves to lay up money which, for want of right training and moral qualifications in the children, becomes their ruin. Nothing can be more sad or instructive than the history, in this regard, of many of our wealthy families. It is no less the wisdom of parents, in behalf of their children than in behalf of themselves, to " seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness." The highest value of wealth must be to purchase for children, indi- rectly of course, more knowledge, more wisdom, R GHTS AND DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 265 more health, better habits, to give them better facil- ities for usefulness, and more chances of it ; in short, to raise them to a higher manhood. Thus a high manhood, a pure, elevated womanhood, is the end to be reached. If it can be reached, as cer- tainly it may, without wealth, that is of little conse- quence. If wealth becomes obstructive of this, it is a curse. But it need not be thus obstructive. Instead of vanity, pride, dissipation, luxury, effemi- nacy, the result of wealth may be, and should be, the training of families not only in the knowledge and virtues that give dignity to life, but also in every accomplishment that can give it grace. We now pass to the rights and duties of chil dren. It is sometimes said that a right and an obligation are reciprocal ; that wherever there is a Bights of . , , . ,. , ,. . children right there is a corresponding obligation, claims. This is not strictly trae. The parent, as a parent, is for the sake of the child. His rights are to enable him to perform his duties, and both are for the sake of the child, and these rights and duties commence before there can be either duties or conscious rights on the part of the child. And when the child be- comes capable of duties and conscious of rights, these have generally no reference to the end of the parent. The rights give no right of control, but are simply claims, and the duties are mostly such as are re quired by the well-being of the child, which is, or should be, the great object desired bj' the parent. 266 MORAL SCIENCE. The duties of children may all be comprised in Dutissof *^^ °"^ word '■'■hmor^'' as that is used in ohudren. ^^ pjf^j^ Commandment. This sentiment of honor towards the parent, expressing itself ir outward act according to the changing relation of parent and child in the progress of the child towards maturity, would hold the parent and child in per- petual harmony, and would secure to both every end contemplated by the parental relation. The child that honors his father and mother will render them implicit obedience in his early years. If, as his power and right of self-control are increased, it should become his duty to differ in any respect from the parent, or even to disobey him, as in rare and exceptional cases it may be, the spirit of the law wUl still be preserved, and all will be done that can be with a good conscience, to meet not only the commands, but the feelings and the wishes of the parent. The temper expressed by this word " honor," is precisely that which is needed to fit the child for his duties towards God and towards society as represented by government. This spirit, extending itself from the parental relation into all others, permeating the character, becomes a foun- tain of courtesy, and makes the difference between a people reverent, mutually respectftil, and capable of self-control, and an irreverent, reckless, profane mass of individuals incapable of self-government, and sure to inaugurate, sooner or later, in the name of liberty, a state of society compared with which RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 267 despotism would be a blessing. So long as children honor their parents in this land, there will be piety towards God, and freedom in the State ; but if these fountains be corrupted, whatever form governments may assume, men will fall off from their allegiance to God, and the spirit and benefits of freedom will depart. CHAPTER Vn. BOCIETT AND GOVERNMENT: THE SPHERE OF GOV- ERNMENT : ORIGIN OF GOVERNMENT : MODE OP FORMATION. We now proceed to consider Civil Society and Civil Government. Government is the agent of society for the ac- Govemmeut complishment of its ends, and like the howdinne. family, is a divinc institution. By a divine institution, we mean one made necessary by God through relations ordained by him for the attain- ment of our end. The fact that food is necessary to sustain hfe, makes the use of it of divine ap- pointment ; and the fact that the end of the child cannot be attained except through control by the parent, gives the parent rights directly from God, and imposes upon the child corresponding duties. No assent or contract on the part of the parent, or of the child, is required to constitute the family so far as to render valid every right and obligation needed for the attainment of its ends. The rights and duties are from the ends. The relations, caus- ing the family to be what it is, indicate those ends, and through them, the will of God. These rela- SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 269 tions and ends man cannot change. He can only act or refuse to act in conformity with, or in refer- ence to them. Acting in conformity with these relations, and with reference to these ends, the blessings intended to flow from the family will be realized, and as there is a failure in this, evil will result. The institution is from God, it cannot be changed by man. All he can do is to conform, or refuse to conform, to the relations it involves, and seek, or refuse to seek the ends indicated by those relations. And precisely so it is with Civil Government. It is a divine institution, if not as directly, ^j^j yet as really as is the family. The ^^"™*8h. rights which society has, and which it may *""™- rightfully exercise through some form of govern- ment it has from no contract. Men may, if they choose, express the rights and duties involved in government in the form of a contract, but it is a mistake, and may lead to mischievous consequences to suppose that these rights and duties originate in any form of contract. By the constitution of God the ends of the individual can be attained only through government, and therefore the rights of government and the duties of individuals under it originate in the same way as the rights and duties of parents and of children. The individual is born in society. That is his natural state, and as thus born both society and he have reciprocal rights and duties. These he may recognize and have aU the benefits 270 MORAL SCIENCE. of society and of government, or he may refuse to recognize them and be deprived of these benefits, but the rights and duties exist independently of his will. They exist, and in entering into society, the individual comes under no new obligation, and gives up no right. It is said in the Declaration of Independence, that " Governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed." If, as most have supposed, this refers to the foundation of govern- ment, and not to its form, the above view is opposed to it. Such a doctrine would exclude the will of God as underlying government. It would also take away its authority, for the consent that may be given at will may be withdrawn at will. Besides, the principle would require, not merely the consent of a majority, but of every man.' Such a doctrine may please the popular ear, and be accepted when there is no strain upon the government ; but when, as in our late struggle, there is such a strain, the instinct of the nation sets aside the doctrine of mere contract or consent, and practically asserts an au- thority resting on a deeper basis. Its form of gov- ernment a nation may ordain and change. If that government overstep the limit of just authority it may be resisted, but within those limits its rights are from God. The distinction between society and government DiBtiaotion ^^^^ ^^ more prominent if we suppose ^et™an(i°" 6^<^'^ individual composing the society to goTwnment ^^ perfect, that is, to exercise a perfect SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 271 self-government. In that case nothing that could properly be called government would be needed. There might be regulations respecting all matters requiring uniformity and involving no principle, as the age for voting, or the distribution of the prop- erty of one dying intestate. These might be made by the united experience and wisdom of the community, and to them all would conform, not as under government, but as apprehending the rea- son of them, or, at least, the necessity of uniform- ity. We should thus have, with perfect family government, and perfect self-government, which is simply obedience by the individual to the law of God, society without civil government, but capable of being organized into a civil government when- ever the occasion should arise. Such occasion can arise only as civil government may be needed to enable individuals to ground and reach their end, and it will have no right ""ei'^ugoT- to do anything which will not contribute «"'°™«"'"- to that. Government can have for a legitimate end only the good of the governed. The object of it is to do that for the individual whereby he may be enabled to attain his end which he could not do for himself. What then can government do for the individual which he cannot do for himself? To answer this question fully we must contem- plate government in two aspects : 1st, as the indi- vidual may take a part in forming and administering 272 MORAL SCIENCE. it ; and 2(ily, as it is an agency standing apart from the individual and above him for the doing of that which he could not do himself. In treating of government it has been this latter Participatioa aspect that has been almost wholly re- BOTemla. garded. If we suppose a despotic govern- ment to do for the people all that it can do, — let it be wholly paternal, — yet the influences under wliich the individual will be formed will be wholly diflPerent from those under a free government where it is the duty of the individual to understand and take part in the formation and the administration of the gov- ernment. Free institutions have their value not merely from their greater tendency to secure the rights of the individual, but also from their educa- ting, formative, developing power. Free institutions tend to become, and will become in themselves, a great university for political education, as well as a sure guarantee that provision shall be made for uni- versal education in other directions. As, therefore, man has a right to the best means of development as well as to the best conditions for action under a government, it may be said that he has a right to free institutions whenever and wherever he is capa- ble of so administering them as to secure their ends. But apart from this, regarding government as something already formed, the inquiry arises what it can properly do for the individual which he could not do for himself, for, as self-help is the great con- SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 278 dition of growth, it must dwarf the individual, and deaden enterprise to have the government do what the individual can. And here it is to be said that the first and great function of government is to secure to all QoTemiMDt their rights. Of rights we have already J^e'^'i^^'" spoken. They include all that is necessary '"''"■ for the attainment by the individual of his end. Give man his rights in regard to Life, to Liberty, to Property, to Reputation, to Truth, and give him Security respecting all these, and you do for him all that is essential. If, with such conditions, he fail of attaining the ends he ought to attain it must be his own fault. It is sometimes said to be a separate office of gov- ernment not only to secure the rights, but QoTemment to redress the wrongs of the individual. dresawroDgs. There is room for this distinction, though the secur- ing of rights and the redress of wrongs are really the same thing viewed in different aspects. If a man has been wronged it is his right to have that wrong redressed if that be possible, and if that be not possible, it is the right of society to demand such punishment as will give them all the security of which the case admits. The great end therefore of a government is to secure promptly and efficiently the rights of all who are under it, and it is a good government in proportion as it does this. This, of course, can be done only as there is perfect equality for all in the eye of the law. It is against the vio- 18 274 MORAL SCIENCE. lation of a right as such, of any right, of the right of the humblest and poorest, that the government is to guard, and if any difference be made it should be in favor of the humble and the poor. The prompt, efficient, impartial protection of rights and the re- dress of wrongs, is then the first great office of gov- ernment. A second legitimate function of government is to QovernmBnt &^^ facilities, somctimes for individual, but tateontei^'"' more ofteu for associated enterprise. It '"'**• may thus limit and regulate copyrights, and patent-rights, and may incorporate companies to enable them to pursue branches of business which could not well be undertaken by individual enter- prise. Whatever individual protection or further- ance any individual may need to attain the ends of any lawful form of industry he ought to have — provided no special privilege be given him, for no partiality or favoritism should be shown in legislation. And in incoi'porations, as of banks, the acts should be passed not at all for the special benefit of those who are incorporated, but of the public. All such acts should either be open to all, or should be Umited solely by a regard to the public good. This general head of furnishing facilities opens a field of legislation into which abuses may readily creep ; still it is not only legitimate, but well-nigh indispensable. Government, as the agent of society, may even undertake enterprises in its own name that shall furnish facilities for the people generally, but SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 276 the utmost caution is needed in selecting, and in carrying forward such enterprises. It is a special danger under our form of government that pubHc enterprises will be entered upon for private advan- tage, and that they will be carried forward both wastefully and corruptly. These then are the direct objects which a govern- ment may propose to itself, — the protection of all rights, the redress of wrongs, and the furnishing of facilities, without favoritism, for the enterprise of the people. There is also an object which must be regarded as legitimate, which largely gives tone to seif-preeer- the measures adopted under every form govemment. of government, and that is its own preservation. Whatever has a right to be has a I'ight to all the means necessary to its permanence and well-being. Hence despotic governments, assuming their right to be, must maintain standing armies. Hence lim- ited monarchies must have an aristocracy to stand between them and the people, and both must exer- cise control over both education and religion. With- out these no monarchy has been permanent, or can be. If, by extraordinary talent and sagacity, a man like Louis Napoleon may seize the reins and hold them for his lifetime, it is yet felt that his govern- ment has no permanent basis. Louis Napoleon has a son who would naturally succeed him, but if you ask a Frenchman what would happen if the father should die, he simply shrugs his shoulders, and says 276 MORAL SCIENCE. nothing. It was the instinct of self-preservation that led Napoleon and the English aristocracy to take part against us in our late struggle, and it is to be expected that every established form of gov- ernment and every invested interest should be gov- erned in the same way. ^ It is on the principle we are now considering that Hence right free governmeuts have the right to pro- mem to vide for and maintain schools instead of maintain Bciioois. standnig armies, and to restrict the right of voting and of office-holding within such limits as the safety of the Republic may require. The apprehension of these two rights, especially of the right to tax the property of all, whether they have or have not children to educate, has been slow in finding its way into the public mind, and would still be contested even in many parts of our own coun- try, but it rests on solid ground if it can be shown, as clearly it can, that virtue and intelligence are the essential conditions of a free and popular govern- ment. It is only on this ground that this right can rest, for the government can have no right to take property of one man for the benefit of others unless it be essential to its own being or well-being. But may not the government promote intelligence LegisiaHon and morality for their own sake ? May it not directly i ■ i t i p i • for morality, not legislate dircctly tor their promotion as ends ? No. It must protect the rights of all, redress their wrongs and give them facilities such as a government only can give, and leave the pro- motion of virtue and intelligence, except as these SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 211 may be demanded for its own being or efficiency, to individual effort, or to voluntary association. Es- pecially is it to be said that government may not interfere in any way with religion except as such interference may be required by the principles above mentioned. But may there not be legislation in favor of tem- perance ? No. The promotion of temperance is no proper object of legislation. Temperance has the same relation to legislation that honesty has. The laws against stealing are not for the promotion of honesty, but for the protection of rights ; and in the same way if the traffic in ardent spirits did not interfere directly or indirectly with the rights of others it would not be a proper subject for legisla- tion. Let those who carry on this traffic guarantee the public against the crime and increase of tax- ation it occasions and there need be no legislation on the subject. But the moment any business can be shown to be the cause of crime on which the courts established by the government must sit, or of taxation which the government must assess and collect, it comes within the range of legislation, and the community have a right to the best legislation that can be devised for their protection. Neither liquor sellers nor liquor dealers have any rights be- yond the point where their acts begin to touch the right of others to property or to security, or even their right to be protected from those moral con- ditions which, as human nature is now constituted, 278 MORAL SCIENCE. will insure the corruption of the young and of the weak through temptations addressed to their senses, and which are obtruded upon them. Much has been said of attempts to make men moral by legislation, and of prescribing to men what they shall eat and drink ; but no one who under- stands the proper objects of legislation would think of doing either of these. If morality may be indi- rectly promoted by legislation, so much the better. If, in order to abate taxation and crime and nuis- ances, it may become necessary to render intoxica- ting drinks less accessible than some who might safely use them would desire, this is not the object intended, but only the means necessary for a legiti- mate end. It will appear from the above, that in addition to True end of Hieasures needed for its own preservation, goTfrmnent. ^^le cliief function of government is the removing of obstacles. Its end is attained when all the individuals under it attain their end. But this can be done only through the positive exertion by each one of his own faculties, and all that govern- ment can do is to secure favorable conditions for this. The fatal mistake has been, that governments have proposed ends of their own, and in securing these have been utterly reckless of both the rights and the ends of the individual. When this is done in the least degree, it matters not what the form of government may be, — it is a perversion and tyranny. SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 279 We next inquire when, in the progress The origin of the race, civil government becomes ment. necessary. If we make, as we must, a distinction between government and society, society being the principal, and government the agent, then government can- not be needed, or possible, till there is society. But as demanding civil government, a single family can- not constitute society. The family has a govern- ment of its own, and suffices for itself. Before there can be civil government, there must be an aggregation of families. Hence it is that the family, and not the individual, is the unit of civil govern- ment. This, in the patriarchal form, would natu- rally grow out of the union of several families hav- ing a common origin ; and this again would naturally extend and consolidate itself in monarchy. This is supposed to have been the actual origin of govern- ment. This needs to be fhlly comprehended ; for if society ever consisted of disintegrated individuals, standing on an equality, and an attempt had been made to construct something unknown before, to be called a government, all would have had an equal right to take part in such construction. But consisting as society did of families, and needing only such ex- tension and modification of principles of government already existing as should secure in wider relations the conditions of well-being previously secured in the family, there would be not only a natural right, 280 MORAL SCIENCE. but a necessity, that in the formation of civil govem« ment families should be represented by their heads. Such a work could not have been done by the body of those whose rights were to be secured, and, if formally done, the heads of families would be the divinely appointed representatives to do it. If these were to meet and adopt such a form of gov- ernment as should seem to them best adapted to secure civil liberty, that government would not stand simply as the product of human wisdom and will, but, as growing out of relations divinely consti- tuted, would have divine authority. But no such formal meeting was originally held. With no discussion of abstract rights, by a move- ment spontaneous, gradual, self-adjusting, as all primitive movements for the attainment of ends in- dicated by nature are, government would naturally grow out of the union of several families having a common origin, the head and natural representative of each family caring for its interests as occasion might arise. In this way, but for usurpations and abuses, government might have gone on indefinitely. In some cases, as throughout the East, these usur- pations and abuses were such as to crush out liberty, and produce permanent degradation and hopeless- ness among the people. In others they have resulted in agitation, revolution, discussion of rights, and in attempts to found governments on such rights. So instinctive, however, has been the tendency SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 281 above indicated to crystallize into governments by an inherent force, that formal declarations jj^^^ ^ of rights had scarcely been thought of Jf™*'^^ till our own revolution, and then their """"• effect was less than has generally been supposed. There was no destruction of old governments, and construction of new ones on the basis of principles formally laid down. The colonial governments were continued. The laws were essentially the same under the Confederation as before, though the seat of sovereignty was changed j and when the Constitution was formed there was simply a new distribution of some of the essential powers of gov- ernment, and a new mode of appointing those by whom the government should be administered. It was not the object to find a new basis of govern- ment, but such a mode of appointing its officers and such a distribution of its functions as should give the best guarantee that its ends should be secured. There had been abuse, and the object was to guard against that. The inquiry then was, and is now, how government may be so guarded from abuse as to secure for all that civil liberty which is its end. CHAPTER Vm. GOVERNMENT KEPRESENTATIVE AND INSTRUMENTAL : THE EIGHT OF SUFFRAGE. If we suppose government to have originated as above, spontaneously, formally, or in whatever way, it is plain that those who take part in it, whether in its original formation, or by voting or by holding of- fice, must act largely in a representative capacity. They must act for the children, the sick, the infirm, the insane, the criminal, the absent. If adult women were permitted to vote, there would still remain a large majority who could take no part in the gov- ernment, and whose rights could be secured only as they were thus represented. Hence all con- cerned in government act as trustees and guardians. Government is not an end, it is instrumental. It is as a bridge over which all must pass, and what society cares for is to have a bridge that will carry all safely over. It is in that that essential rights and interests are involved, and society has a right to see that only those are engaged in building the bridge who know how, and are disposed to build it well. But if government be thus representative and GOVERNMENT, ETC. 283 instiumental, it will follow, since natural rights be- long to all, that the right to take part in jy^jof it, whether by voting or holding office, J^^'oi*" cannot be a natural right ; and also that ™**b»- society will have the right to say who shall exercise that right, and on what conditions. Hence society may rightfully require that voters and office-holdei's shall be above a certain age, shall have a certain degree of education, shall have committed no mfa- mous crime, and the like. It also follows from the representative character of voting, that the exercise of the right gufltagoM becomes a duty, and that citizens cannot *"'''■ treat it, as they frequently would, as a personal right or privilege which they may rightftilly at their pleasure forego ; but it imposes a solemn obligation, requiring in the voter the exercise of his intelligence and discretion, if not for himself, at least for the sake of others who cannot take part in the government, and even for the sake of posterity, who will one day inherit his work, and be affected by his care or his neglect. So essential is this that society might com- pel the exercise cf this right, and insist that those to whom it is comn Utted shall not lay it lightly aside, nor be allowed to shield themselves under the idea that it is a personal right and privilege, and thus stand idly by while others inflict an injury on soci- ety ; but might require of them, as of more formal guardians and trustees, that they shall act for the benefit of their wards, though they may not care 284 MORAL SCIENCE. sufficiently for their own rights, as membera of soci- ety, to protect them. h^^t^g,-£.^tx^ ^ / J ^ y ^^ But while it is undemable that the right of suf- Eight of frage extends to interests far beyond those conferred. of the individual who may claim to exer- cise it, and hence that no individual can claim to exercise it as a natural right, it still remains a duty for society to confer this right in the most just and secure manner that human wisdom can devise. And here it is to be said that there has doubtless been from the first the spontaneous and unconscious operation of a principle which should be a control- ing one, that is, that those should vote on any sub- ject on whom the responsibility with reference to it falls. It has seemed right that those who are to go to war should determine the question of war, and that those who are liable to do military and police duty, and sit on juries, who are to work on the highways and pay the taxes, should vote on those subjects ; that those, in short, whoever they may be, who do the fighting, and the working, and the tax-paying, should also do the voting. It would be quite as unjust that war should be declared through the votes of women and children who could take no part in it, as that men should impose taxes on property which women have acquired. If it be said that the interests of women are as much opposed to war as those of men, and that they would never urge and inaugurate and perpetuate one in oppo- sition to the judgment of the men, this is refuted GOVERNMENT, ETC. 285 by what occurred at the South during our late civil war, for it is well known that the war was intensi- fied and prolonged by the spirit of the women, though they had no power to vote. If women and children had taken an active part in the great duties and responsibilities of society, beyond question they would have been allowed to vote. But accounting thus for what has been, we inquire what ought to be. On what principle Ba^isorthe 1 • /. 1 . 1 P 1 . right of ought society to conrer the nght oi taking auttrage. part in the government ? And here it is plain that no one ought to be ex- cluded arbitrarily, that is, unless such exclusion is required by the ends of government. In this view all agree on two grounds of exclusion. One is in- competence, the other presumed hostility to the government. On these grounds minors, foreigners not naturalized, criminals, and those who have shown hostility to the government, are excluded. This being conceded, and putting aside for the moment the question in regard to women, the one great principle which must be observed by society in conferring the right of suffrage, and which is practically found to be the foundation and safeguard of civil liberty, is that that right should be attainable by all. It is to be something attainable by all, not possessed. Thus society may require that all voters shall have attained a uniform and discreet age, but distinctions may not be drawn between the rich and the poor, the white and the black, the learned and 286 MORAL SCIENCE. the unlearned. To the youth of each of these classes society may rightly say that when they reach such age, and not tUl then, they shall come equally into possession of this right. Nor may society impose any condition upon the right of suffrage which the mass of the people can- not comply with. Thus society may not require that voters shall be free from sin, but may require that they shall be free from crime, for a moral life is a condition with which all can comply. Thus society may not limit the right of sufirage to pro- found mathematicians, nor to men learned in the ancient languages, for these would necessitate talent and education not practically within the reach of every youth ; but it may require that every voter shall be able to read the English language, for that is attainable by every American youth, and neces- sary, in the present age, to secure an ordinary intel- ligence. Such is the basis on which the right of sufirage should be conferred. Forbidding that the right should be withheld from any race or class as such, and that any part of society should have or exercise the right of excluding any other part, it secures to every person the right to rise. But besides the right of suffrage, which is the Right of right to take a part in the affairs of the representa. ^ don. government, there is a totally distinct right, a right of representation. These two are often 3onfounded, but are distinct, for those who do not GOVERNMENT, ETC. 287 vote are still entitled to be represented. In prac- tical effect, as in theory, the child is represented by the father, and the wife by the husband. All indi- viduals have an interest in government, and where the individual possesses an interest, that interest necessitates and confers a right, for wherever there is a light to govern there must also be a right to be governed rightly. The representative in the legis- lature represents far more than the minority of men who voted for him. He represents their opponents who voted against him, their wives and children who did not vote, and he represents, and is bound to provide for the well-being of even criminals who have forfeited the right to vote. This generality of representation is sought to be secured by what is termed " manhood suffrage," and it is this which must prevent one class from dominating over or ex- cluding another from the substantial right of repre- sentation, and which must secure to all that equal protection and care without which civil liberty can but imperfectly exist. There is also a right of representation which in this countrv has received but little favor Representa- . , . , . . «on of or attention as yet, but which may m time property, be found essential to the existence of popular gov- ernment, and that is the representation of property as distinct from the representation of persons. Mer owe certain common duties to society, and society owes a certain common protection to them, but there are also expenses of government which are not 288 MORAL SCIENCE. drawn equally from all men, but wHch are contrib- uted in different proportions by individuals. This principle is very old, and has borne an important part in the history of the Anglo-Saxon race, it hav- ing been enunciated as early as Magna Charta in the declaration that taxes should be laid only with the consent of the taxed given through the " Com- mons " in Parliament ; and again in the Bill of Rights ; and again in the revolution of the Amer- ican colonies, where the principle in question was the power to tax without the consent of the taxed, or without representation. There exists now the case of unmarried women holding property on which the government imposes taxes without affording a correlative right of representation ; and there is also the case of resident aliens whose property is taxed in the same way. This withholding of representa- tion from tax-paying women, and at the same time requiring- them to contribute equally with men to the ordinary expenses of government, already strikes the common mind as injustice ; and it may be that the growing interests of civilization will one day re- quire that these two bases of representation shall be separated, and that one branch of the legislature shall represent property, and be chosen by those who contribute towards the expense of maintaining government, and that all such shall be allowed to take part in the government to that extent, what- ever may be their nationality, race, or sex. Of the equity of such representation there can be no ques- GOVERNMENT, ETC. 289 tion. Government is supported wholly by property ; the larger portion of legislation respects property, and it may readily happen in communities like the city of "New York, where irresponsible and destitute foreigners are constantly made voters, that great in- security and oppression should result from subject- ing property to the control of mere numbers. We have thus the family as the unit of society. We have government as necessarilv rep- Has woman • TTT T . , . „ , aright to resentative. We have a right m all the vote, members of society to representation ; to protection in all their rights ; to be governed rightly. We have also the two grounds on which persons have been called on to take part in the government : responsi- bility for personal service, and the support of the government by their property. With these ele- ments we inquire whether the right of suffiage should be extended to woman. The question "is not whether she has a natural right to vote, for none have that, but whether her own elevation and best influence, and the ends of society require that that right should be bestowed upon her. This question has been discussed as if the sexes constituted different classes, and as if there were, or could be, in their real interests, a conflict be- tween them. That is a great mistake. A man and his wife are not of a different class ; and their in- terests, together with those of their family, are identical. The very existence of society, indeed, depends on men and women as entering into a special 19 290 MORAL SCIENCE. relation which not only unites their interests, as in a partnership, but identifies them, and makes each sex reciprocally the guardian of the other. The cases where this relation does not exist are strictly exceptional, and society is not organized, and does not exist for exceptional cases. This question, therefore, should not come in the form of a partisan discussion, but of a mutual in quiry what the rights of woman are, and how she may be elevated to the highest point in culture and legitimate influence. And upon such an inquiry man should enter with no less alacrity and candor than woman, for if there be anything which mus' react with swift retribution upon society, it is any needless ignorance or degradation of its wives and mothers. The family, a^ has been said, is the unit of society. This character of it should be, and unconsciously is, one of the most cherished objects of Christian civil- ization, and unhappy will be the nation whose legis- lative mind shall regard society simply as a mass of individuals, and not as a combination of families. The family being regarded thus, as a divine institu- tion sufficing for itself, and society being regarded as combination of families, society will have a double life, or rather, its one life will be within two spheres. There will be the domestic life of the family, and the public life of society. Of these the family is the more important and sacred, and over this in its domestic life, it is the duty and dignity and happi- GOVERNMENT, ETC. 291 ness of woman to preside. This is her sphere, not inferior to that of man, but diflFerent from it. Here she has not only a right to vote, but to rule. If, as is to be supposed, she is fitted for her place, nothing will be added to the dignity of the husband or to the happiness of the family by any interference with her where the responsibility properly falls upon her. The sphere of society on the other hand belongs to man, at least it has been hitherto regarded as belong- ing to him. For the support of its institutions and for those duties more immediately required for its welfare he is responsible. Here man has the right to vote, and nothing will be added to the dignity of the wife or to the happiness of society by any inter- ference of the wife where the responsibility properly falls upon the husband. By a natural relation, and so by the appointment of God, the wife is the centre of the domestic circle, the chief source of its happi- ness, and guardian of her husband's interests and rights in all that pertains to it. By a natural rela- tion the husband is the house-hand, the provider for its wants, its defender, and the guardian of the riffhts of the wife as of the children in their relations to society. He is the natural representative of both. The wife is not a child, but according to the Chris- tian conception is nearer than that, is one with her husband, and their interests are one. If we suppose society composed of families alone, and if the rights of wives and children would not be secured by giv- ing to every husband and father a share in the gov- 292 MORAL SCIENCE. ernment, the fault -woulrl not be in the system, but in individual corruption that would work itself out whatever system might be adopted. Women have had wrongs, and so have children. These must be . . dressed, but this will not be done by disregard- ing any relation established by God. If parents and children, and husbands and wives, will act in the spirit of those relations, society will be perfected. If they will not do that, no political relations will avail. The same spirit on the part of men that would concede the right of voting, would concede and secure in a representative capacity every right without that. For each of the spheres above spoken of, men and women are fitted respectively by their physical organization and by their mental instincts and ten- dencies, and their relations to the children require that the spheres should be kept separate, it is not that man is not competent to set the table and rock the cradle, or that woman is not competent to vote. It is because the one life of society will work itself out in more perfect results, if these two great but interdependent spheres be left to those who natu- rally have charge of them. But while the above is said, society is to hold it- self ready to make any changes which its changing modifications may require. In the primitive stages of society, when the chief business of governments was to carry on offensive or defensive war, women had no desire to take part in government, and their GOVKRNMENT, ETC. 29S presence would have been an inconvenience and injury. But society has now greatly advanced, so that there are many fields, especially that of educa- tion, in which woman may properly act, and in which her aid will be an advantage to society j and it is possible that in a future and higher stage of progress these fields will be increased, and woman be assigned to perform her definite part in the gov- ernment. Yet so long as the sexes remain fused in one common mass, as has always been the case with society, so long the indiscriminate mingling of the sexes, either in the domestic sphere or in the gen- eral management of government, will be found an inconvenience, a source of embarrassment and weak- ness. If, however, it should be found advantageous to society and to woman herself that the number of hei* employments should be increased, and her re- sponsibility to society enlarged, there would probably be no opposition to a corresponding enlargement of the right of suffrage. If we adopt this view of the family as the unit of society, and of the natural right of representa- tion, the principle which it contains will harmonize and protect all interests. Let the family be regarded as the unit of society, and the principle adhered to of giving to each unit a single and equal represen- tation, and society may provide for exceptional cases oy general laws. Such cases arise when the chil- dren of a family reach maturity and do not marry, and in the case of widows who are the heads of 294 MOEAL SCIENCE. families. For the case of widows no remedy is pro- vided, but in equity there should be. When the Bons of a family reach the age of manhood they go forth and become, in theory as in fact, the stocks of new families, which sooner or later they support, maintain, and represent, and hence they are made responsible for the duties and burdens of society. They may not, indeed, instantly marry and become the heads of new families, but they are preparing for that, and are essentially doing the work of main- taining the future family by the work of preparation. The daughters, on the contrary, remain at home, and are identified in its interests with the old family until they are taken forth to form parts of new fam- ilies. They do not go forth by themselves, nor un- dertake the work of preparation, but stay protected, maintained, and represented in and by the original stock. Perhaps, exceptionally, they may acquire property, and in the contemplation of law, establish for themselves new homes. Society will never fos- ter such a system, for it would be prejudicial to its own ends ; but nevertheless it might protect the in- dividual by allowing her to exercise the sufirage of property representation. The right of personal sufirage she could hardly ask, and society would hardly allow, except as she should be willing and fitted to do the work of the juror, the policeman, the sheriff, the soldier, — except as she should be- come subject to all the duties and responsibilities on which the great interests of society depend. GOVERNMENT, ETC. 295 In speaking on this subject nothing has been said hitherto of sentiment and a sense of propriety as distinguished from rights, and nothing need be, ex- cept as those indicate, as natural sentiment always does, what is right. But sentiment depends so much upon custom, and custom is so varied and capri- cious that it is difficult to know what natural sen- timent is. Throughout the East it shocks the sense of propriety for a woman to appear in public un- veiled, or to walk the streets arm-in-arm with her husband, probably even more than it would here for her to vote and take part in the stormy debates of a town meeting. Still, sentiment has a real basis. In reading the account lately given by a missionary of his finding a man in the house knitting and his wife at work in the field, we cannot help feeling that the sense of ludicrous impropriety as well as of indigna- tion is well founded. That there is in the minds of large portions of the people of this country — perhaps stronger among the well educated and refined, and stronger among women than men — a feeling of pro- priety that would be offended by the promiscuous mingling of women with men in the conduct of pub- _lic affairs, cannot be questioned. It is the sentiment which makes woman strong through her weakness. It lay at the foundation of all that was good in chivalry. It has been a strong auxiUary to Chris- tian principle in elevating woman. It sets her apart in many hearts as something sacred, and adds to life, otherwise hard and prosaic, much of its beauty. 296 MORAL SCIEIirCE. For this sentiment Americans are distinguished. It should be cherished rather than weakened, and if, as many think, it would be destroyed, or essentially impaired by extending the suffiage to woman, those who wish her elevation will hesitate long before tak- ing such a step. CHAPTER IX. FORMS or GOVERNMENT. DUTIES OF MAGISTRATES AND CITIZENS. After considering elementary points so fiilly, it win not be necessary to spend much time on the more beaten grounds of forms of government, and of the rights and duties of citizens and of magistrates. Governments have always been classed as Mon- archies, Aristocracies, and Democracies, !.„„„,„, but substantially they are now, and indeed S^^^™' always have been, either monarchical or ''"• republican. There are indeed privileged classes, as in England, who have an hereditary share in the government, but there is no government that is in fact or in form aristocratic. Monarchies are either absolute or limited, as the power rests with one man alone or is divided with others. The monarch may be elective, or heredi- tary, though of an elective monarchy there is now no example. That the monarchy should be hered- itary conduces to the stability of the government, and to peace. Democracies, that is governments by the people themselves, instead of by representation, are impos- 298 MOEAL SCIENCE. sible except for very small communities. Repub- lican government is representative and elective. There may be a simple independent republic, such as the several States were before the formation of the Federal Union, or there may be a federal republic, with powers divided between the central sovernment and the several states. The object of government, that is, security in the enjoyment of every right, may be attained under any form. A monarch may concede every right, and his character may give security, but practically it is found that rights are best secured where a large amount of power is retained in the hands of the people, and where the government itself is one of checks and balances. The essential condition of freedom and security is that the three great functions of govem- The neces- o o separating mcut, the Legislative, the Judicial, and the functioMof Executive, should be kept distinct, and goyemment. gjiould be in different hands. Let the laws be made by one set of men, with penalties fixed before transgression ; let the question of an infrac- tion of law and the declaration of the penalty be in the hands of another set of men, and the execution of the sentence in still other hands, and a good de- gree of security and freedom can hardly fail to be enjoyed. Still, much will depend on the method in which the legislative body and the judiciary are appointed and constituted. The object is the best laws and their perfect administration. Society is FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, ETC. 299 therefore bound to elect men of wisdom and integ- rity, and laws passed by such men after due deliber- ation will be all that can be reached in the present imperfect state. To secure due deliberation and a view of eacli subject upon all its sides, tlie legislature Twoieg- 111 ■ 1 IIP i^"™ should consist, and commonly does, ot two bodies. bodies. In some cases these are elected in different methods and serve for different periods, and this would seem best adapted to secure the end. It gives opportunity also for the representation of every interest. It has been thought in this country that the office of legislation was a right and a privilege notation to be enjoyed in rotation, with httle refer- '" °®™- ence to integrity and wisdom, especially with little reference to any special knowledge of the science of legislation. If the legislative body be numerous, such a theory will be comparatively harmless if a fair proportion of competent legislators be elected. In such bodies the business is really done by a few, and if the numbers that serve simply as ballast do no positive mischief, there is little objection to the prin- ciple of rotation for them. Crude legislation how- ever is too great an evil to be lightly incurred, and too many men may not be set aside just as experience would render their services valuable. Society owes it to itself to see that its legislation moves on in the full light of the experience of the past, and of the best talent and wisdom of the present. 800 MOBAL SCIENCE. Laws having been made, and penalties annexed, ihe judi- cases will arise under them, respecting both otory. property and crime, that will require a ju- diciary department. The sure and speedy and inexpensive administration of justice is an essential condition of the well-being of a people. The speed- iest and least expensive method of reaching this is by a single judge deciding cases on the spot, or, in cases of importance and difficulty, two others might be added. The objection to this is the danger of passion, prejudice, and corruption. Hence juries and courts of appeal have been introduced. These have guarded against corruption, but have in manj' cases so been the means of delay and expense that the rich could baffle and worry out the poor, and that it is often better pecuniarily to lose a just claim than to contest it in law. Such a state of things is disgraceful to civilization and to Christianity, and should be remedied by an enlightened people. What is needed is an impartial and competent judiciary, through which speedy and inexpensive justice may be reached. This end has been sought not merely through the constitution of the judiciary, but also through the mode of its appointment, and the ten- ure of office. Obviously these should be such as to secure the appointment of the best men, and that the judge himself shall be unaffected in his prospects and private interests by his decisions. That these conditions should be secured by an elective judi- ciary, holding office for a limited and comparatively FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, ETC. 301 brief time, would not seem possible in the present state of public morals. It is the business of the executive to see that the laws are enforced, and that all sentences -oaa- of the judiciary are carried out. The ^'="''™ executive also represents the majesty of the na- tion before other nations, and in all international transactions is the medium of communication with them. The character of these duties demands that they be performed by a single person. If the ex- ecutive have, as he should have, to guard his own prerogatives, a veto power, he is so far a part of the legislature ; but beyond that his sole business is to execute the laws. This he must do, certainly, as he understands them. He must execute a law in what he supposes to be its true intent and meaning, seek- ing, if there be doubt, the best aid from legal ad- visers. But when a law has been passed, having fully the forms of law, he must accept it as such, and may not delay or refuse its execution on the ground of its alleged unconstitutionality, though, if there be doubt, he may take immediate measures to have the constitutionality of the law tested. To secure always a suitable executive has been a great problem. In most nations the executive of- fice has been hereditary. This has many advan- tages. It tends to stabihty and a uniform policy, and prevents the excitement and corruption incident to an election. Besides, in many countries an intel- ligent and patriotic election would be impossible*. In this country the executive is elective, virtually 802 MOEAL SCIENCE. by the whole people, and hitherto the strain has not been found too great. Whether this will continue to be the case when wealth shall be indefinitely in- creased, and interests shall be extended and compli- cated, is a problem. It can only be as there shall be a virtue and an mtelligence among the people hitherto unknown. Probably the danger would be diminished, if the tenure of office were for six years, with no possibility of a reelection. The duties of the citizen are, 1st. To obey the oj » J ., laws so far as his conscience will allow him £li8t duty cuiSn- *° ^° ^°' ^^ ^^ possible for men to cherish obedience. willfulness and fanaticism under the pre- tense of conscience, and the presumption is in favor of the law as right, and of the obligation of the citi- zen to obey. Still there have been, and are liable to be, under all forms of government, wicked laws, and if, with the best light a man can gain, he shall deem it wrong to obey a law, he is bound to disobey it, and take the consequences whatever they may be. He is bound to obey God rather than men. 2. The citizen is bound to bear cheerfully his Second doty J share of the burdens of government, and BnbmifiBion „ . -rrn 1 11-1 n to taxation. 01 socicty. Whether Called upon lor per- sonal service, or for property in the way of taxation, he is to stand in his place and do his part without subterfuge or evasion. 3. So far as his influence goes he is bound to see Third duty ; that the best men are selected as candi- Buflrage. dates for office, and so to cast his vote as will most benefit the countay. FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, ETC. 303 4. The citizen is bound to give his aid in all at- tempts to secure the rights of others, and jonrthdnty- to enforce law and order. He may not ^^^^. stand supinely by and see the right of ™™'" property violated. If, through general supineness, the property of individuals be destroyed by a mob, society is bound to make it good. Against the ten- dency of liberty to license, and of license again to despotism, every citizen is to guard. If we look at history, or at the state of most countries now, we cannot value civfl lib- ■,, , , ' value of erty too highly. Hitherto it has existed "'"' '""■'*y but imperfectly, and has reached its present posi- tion only through great sacrifices and struggles. The end of government, as for the individual, the ground of human rights, and the rights themselves, have not been well understood. These are now understood by some, and it has become possible to instruct a whole people in them. Let this be done, and if, in connection with such instruction and the advancing light of science the community may but be so pervaded by the spirit of Christianity that a permanent and constantly advancing civilization may be possible, there will be nothing to prevent the attainment by man of all the perfection and happi- ness of which the present state will admit. The highest earthly conception is that of a vast Christian commonwealth, instinct with order, and with such triumphs and dominion over nature as modem science is achieving, and promises to achieve. >^ CLASS m. DUTIES TO GOD. CHAPTER I. DUTIES TO GOD DEFINED. Duties to God are distinguished from others by Relation to having God for their object. It is one tho"ne"*'*'' thing for the subject to disregard the sov- great duty, g^eign indirectly by breaking his laws in injuring a fellow subject, it is another for him to meet that sovereign personally and show towards him disregard or contempt. There are accordingly both duties and sins of which God is the immediate object, and which have reference to Him alone. Such are worship, and blasphemy. It is this capacity of coming directly to God that makes man a child, or rather it is the necessary result of his being a child. So far as we can separate religion from morality BeUgion religion consists in those duties of which guJsiuMi God is the object. That these cannot be rajity. performed acceptably except on condition of performing our duties to our fellow men has al- DUTIES TO GOD DEFINED. 805 ready beeti shown. In this sense our duties to our fellow men are conditional for those to God, and so lower. Whether they are also conditional as prior in time is less clear. Many suppose that the moral nature is first called into action towards man, and observation favors this. But the relation of God to the soul as Creator and as all-pervading in his presence, and the necessary idea which, according to some, is formed of Him from the first, has led others to the belief that the moral nature is first stirred towards God, and that there can be no form of duty without some reference to Him. But be this as it may, while all must allow that there can be no genuine religion without ^j^^ morahty, it is generally supposed there can JJ^^ be morality without religion. This may ™'»™i^- be differently viewed as we suppose morality to con- sist in outward conduct, or in a state of the heart. There are many reasons why outward conduct should be in accordance with ihe rules of morality, though it may not proceed from love. Doubtless, also, the moral nature, in common with the other parts of our nature, and taking its turn with them, is constantly brought into activity towards men with no conscious reference to God. But if we mean by morality the love of our neighbor as a paramount and controlling principle, and by perfect morahty the love of our neighbor as ourselves, then there is no reason to suppose that it can exist without religion. The principle in each is identical, and supposing God to 2C 306 MORAL SCIENCE. be known, they reciprocally imply each other. Cer- tainly this is the only morality that has an adequate basis, or that can be relied on as consistent. With this view of the relation to each other of these two branches of duty, we inquire what those duties are of which God is the object. And here the first and great duty of every one is, Man's great ^^ ^^'"^ Mmself to Grod. This is the great- *"'^- est and most solemn of all acts. It in- volves the highest possible prerogatives of a creature, and is the highest possible privilege as well as duty. The whole wisdom of man lies in his confiding him- self imphcitly to the guidance of the divine wisdom, and to the protection of the divine power. It was by withdrawing himself from this guidance and pro- tection that man sinned originally ; he can be restored only by accepting them anew. As Creator, God is the absolute owner of all things. As omnipotent, He can do with them as He pleases. But if He would be a Father and Moral Governor He must have children and subjects in his own image, and with the prerogative of choosing or rejecting Him as their supreme good. Control by force, order by an impulse from without, is the opposite of control by love, and of order from a rational choice, and the highest duty of man is to give himself in the spirit of a child, that is by faith, to God. The above will include everything. Whoever holds himself fully and constantly in the attitude to DUTIES TO GOD DEFINED. 307 God of a child, does all that he can. This will in- clude love and obedience. Still we need to specify in three particulars — 1. The cultivation of a devotional spirit ; 2. Prayer ; and 3. The keeping of the Sabbath. CHAPTER n. CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIKIT. A DEVOTIONAL Spirit may be cultivated — 1. By the exercise of devotion. This is on the principle that all our active powers are strengthened by exercise. There is no active power that does not gain facility and scope by repeated acts under the direction of will. 2. A devotional spirit may be cultivated by a right use of Nature. The physical universe is but a visible expression of the power and the thought of God. This power and thought are seen in the very con- stitution of matter. It was not any matter, but such matter, and in such proportions, that was needed for the forms that we see, and for vital pro- cesses. The varieties and affinities and relative quantities of matter as much show that it was created, and for a purpose, as its forms and movements show that it is used for a purpose. It is therefore the voice of Science as well as of Revelation that He " hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven " — that is the extent of CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 309 the atmosphere — " with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance." But the more obvious manifestations of thought and power are in form and movement. It is in the forms that we see, so diversified — some changing, some permanent, each adapted to an end — together with those uniform and recurring movements which reveal unlimited force and skill, that what we call Nature consists. Through this we gain our concep- tions of beauty, and of the most perfect adaptation of means to ends. Physical science is but the thought of God expressed through this. Upon this, suspended as it is in immensity, so vast in its magni- tudes, so mighty in its forces, so perfect in its organi- zations even the most minute, so extended yet pre- cise in its periods, no one can look without wonder, unless it be from ignorance or criminal stupidity. But all this may be regarded with two habits of mind utterly different. Through the element of uniformity in nature it is possible to regard it as having no relation to a per sonal God. Through that element God so hides himself behind his works that very many are prac- tically, and some theoretically, pantheistic or athe- istic. They see nothing in Nature but impersonal forces and fixed relations. A devotional spirit is the opposite of this. Through Nature it sees God. It sees, and culti- vates the habit of seeing Him in everything. To 310 MORAL SCIENCE. Buch a spirit the earth and the heavens are a temple, the only temple worthy of God. To it the succes- sion of day and night and the march of the seasons are constant hymns. To it, not the heavens alone, but the whole frame-work and structure of Nature with its ongoings " declare the glory of God." This is the spirit which it is the duty and happi- iiess of man to cultivate. The highest use of Nature is not the support of man, but to lead him up to God. 3. A devotional spirit may also be cultivated by observing the Providence of God as it respects Nations, individuals, and particularly ourselves. The warp of our earthly life is those uniformities, called laws, without which there could be no educa- tion of the race, and no rational conduct. But these laws mtersect and modify each other. They are so related to the results of human wiU, and the results of different wills apparently unrelated so combine and converge to unexpected ends, as to have produced an impression almost universal that the filling in of those seeming contingencies which go to make up the completed pattern of our lives is controlled by wise design. In this is Providence. This it is that in every age takes Joseph from the pit and makes him ruler of Egypt. Through this it is that the arrow shot at a venture finds the joints of the har- ness. Here, as in Nature, it is possible for men to substitute something else, as chance, or fate, for God ; but those who believe in Him will nowhere CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 311 find more striking evidence of a divine hand, and " he who will observe the Providence of God will have providences to observe." 4. But the main nutriment of a devotional spirit must be found in the Scriptures. In the Scriptures we have an unequivocal revela- tion of God as personal, and so of his attributes as moral. It is only in view of personality and moral attributes that devotion can spring up. Sentiment and sentimentalism there may be in view of force regarded as impersonal, but not devotion, not wor- ship. These require a Father in Heaven, an infinite God, universal in his government and perfect in his moral character. Whatever may be said of the truth of the Scriptures, it is demonstrable that the God whom they reveal must call forth the highest possible adoration, and hence that the knowledge of God as revealed in them must, more than anything else can, quicken intelligent devotion. The attri- butes and character of God as made known in the Scriptures hold the same relation to devotion that the infinity of space, and the awful force that sus- tains and moves in it the array of suns and planets, holds to the emotion of sublimity ; and as nothing can supersede infinite space in that relation, so noth- ing can supersede the God of the Bible as the ground and stimulus of the highest possible devo- tion. Thus recognizing God in the three great modes in which He is revealed, in Nature, in Providence, 312 MORAL SCIENCE. and in Revelation, we shall cultivate a devotional spirit. In contrast with a devotional spirit is Pro&neness. one that is profane. This may manifest itself in action or in speech. The true conception of this world is that of a temple involving both the ownership and the indwelUng of God. As there is nothing that God does not own, any reckless or vicious use of what is his is a form of profaneness. It is a profanation to convert what- God gave for food into a means of gluttony or drunkenness. If travellers were to stop in a cara- vansera, and in the presence of him who built and fiirnished it were to destroy the food and injure the furniture he had provided for all, he would be grieved and justly incensed. It would be an un- grateful disregard of his wishes, and an abuse of his goodness. But this is what men do who pervert the works of God from the end designed by Him, and such conduct toward Him is profaneness. But while this is really profaneness, and in an aggravated form, it is not generally so regarded. The term is commonly applied to some form of speech implying disregard or contempt of God, or of the sanctions of his moral government ; and more particularly to an irreverent use of his name. This is an offense that would excite astonishment if it were not so common. It differs from others in be- ing wholly gratuitous, and is thus, perhaps, the most striking evidence of the depravity of the race. The CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 313 thief, the sensualist, the ambitious man has a temp- tation that appeals to a natural desire; but that a creature and child of God, supported wholly by his goodness and responsible to Him, should wantonly profane his name, could not beforehand be credited. That there should be in Christian lands communities in which such profaneness is thought an accomplish- ment, and so an evidence of manhood that boys are tempted to it on that ground, shows a standard of manhood that has depravity for its essence. Profaneness can be of no possible use to him who indulges in it, or to any one else. If it were not wicked it would be simply superfluous and ridicu- lous. As it is, it is, as Robert Hall said, in allusion to feudal times, merely " a peppercorn rent to show that a man belongs to the devil." So far from giv- ing, as some suppose, assurance of the truth of what is spoken in connection with it, it is the reverse. All observation shows, mine certainly does, what might have been inferred without it, that he who will swear, will lie. Why not? The practice is scarcely less oflFensive to a just taste than to a sen- sitive conscience, and whoever may be guilty of it, deserves to be not only condemned and abhorred, but despised. CHAPTEB m. PKATER. The second gi-eat duty which we owe exclusively to God is Prayer. Literally, prayer is supplication, it is asking ; but p^ jj as commonly used it includes all that we worship. mean by worship. It includes in addition to supplication, adoration, confession, and thanksgiv- ing. To a being like man each of these would seem to be the dictate of nature. What more reasonable than adoration in view of an Infinite Majesty ? Wliat more suitable than confession in view of guilt, or than thanksgiving in view, not simply of good- ness, but of mercy, and of a love unutterable? What more natural than that the creature and child, in view of his wants, should ask the Creator and Owner of all, and his Father, to supply those wants ? That each of these, excepting the last, is not only suitable but a duty is generally conceded, but that man should ask and that God should give because of his asking, has seemed to many incom- patible with the fixed order of nature, and with hia infinite attributes. By asking is here meant, not simply desire ex- PEATER 316 pressed, but paramount desire. There must be a desire for the thing asked greater than Prayer is for anything else that would be incom- deaiw. patible with it. This is prayer, and nothing else is. If a man may have either an estate or so much money for the asking, but cannot have both, how- ever much he may desire the estate he cannot really ask for it, unless he desires it more than the money. And so, whatever desire a man may have of heaven, or of the presence with him of the Spirit of God, yet if he have a stronger desire for any form of worldly good, any form of expression that he might use in the guise of prayer would not be ask- ing. It would be hypocrisy to the omniscient eye. It is only a paramount desire presented to God with the submission becoming a creature, that is prayer, and the question is whether, in consequence of such prayer, man will receive what he would not with- out it. On this point the Bible expresses no doubt. There is in that no recognition of the dif- jesamonr Acuities raised by philosophy. It teaches »'">«»""» us how to pray ; it commands and exhorts us to pray ; it gives us examples in great number and variety of direct answers to prayer ; it makes prayer an essential element of a Christian life ; it says ex- plicitly, " Ask and ye shall receive." It would be impossible that the duty and efficacy of prayer should be taught more clearly than they are in the Bible. 316 MORAL SCIENCE. These teachings of the Bible are confirmed by tlie analogy of our earthly life, and by the instinct of the race. From his infancy the child asks and receives. Asking is one of the two legitimate ap- pointed ways in which his wants are to be supplied. For some things, and at some times, it is the only way. It is just an expression of that de- sire and dependence which are appropriate to the relation of parent and child. Without recognized dependence in the way of expressed desire on the one hand, and an ability and willingness to supply wants thus indicated on the other, the chief beauty and significance of the parental relation would be gone. Can it be then that we have a Father in heaven, and yet that the very feature which gives warmth and beauty and value to the earthly relation should be wanting ? Without this the name would lose, in its transference to God, its chief significance, and Christ would not be the benefactor He is sup- posed to have been in teaching the race to say, " Our Father." On this point too the instinct of the race has been Voice of manifested unequivocally. Universally, or Instinct. nearly so, when, as the Psalmist says, men "draw near unto the gates of death," when " they that go down to the sea in ships " " mount up to the heaven," and " go down again to the depths," " and are at their wits' end," " then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble." Not only speculative ques- PRATER. 317 tioners of the efficacy of prayer, but professed athe- ists have often been brought to extremities in which this instinct has so asserted itself that they have cried unto God. It may also be doubted whether the highest bless- ings can be received except on the condition of asking. Health, rain, a prosperous journey, may come to men whether they ask or not. But the highest blessings are from the direct communion of man with God. This is the great distinction of man, that God himself may be his portion and good. To be enjoyed, this blessing must be desired and sought for, and it can be sought for only by asking. To obtain the larger number of blessings we need, we must not only ask, but put forth active exertion ; but here the only active exertion possible is the asking. Nor would it seem fit that God should bestow this blessing on any other condition. Other things may come alike to all, but it might have been anticipated, even if He could do it otherwise, that God would give his Holy Spirit, as a sanctifier and comforter, only to those who siiould ask Him. Not only from the Bible, then, but from the anal- ogy of our earthly life, from our whole nature as practical, and from its necessary relation to our highest wants, should we infer the efficacy of asking. The question then recurs whether, in objecaon the light of a philosophy that apprehends ^"utobu- immutable law and the infinite attributes '*y ""»■''• of God, all this be not a mere seeming and delusion. 318 MORAL SCIENCE. To the efficacy of asking for the Holy Spirit, oi for any direct agency of God upon our minds, there can be no objection from the immutability of phys- ical law, since that can have no relation to what is done immediately by a personal being. From this highest region and sphere of prayer, therefore, no cavil about fixed law can debar us. Nor, on the view of the immutability of law (the only correct one), taken by the Duke of Argyle in his " Reign of Law," can any valid objection lie against the effi- cacy of asking, for example, for rain. " There are," says he, "no phenomena visible to man of which it is true to say that they are governed by any inva- riable force. That which does govern them is always some variable combination of invariable forces. But this makes all the difference in reason- ing on the relation of will to law — this is the one essential distinction to be admitted and observed. . In the only sense in which laws are immutable, this immutability is the very charac- teristic which makes them subject to guidance through endless cycles of design. It is the very certainty and invariableness of the laws of Nature," — that is, of each individual law taken separately — " which alone enables us to use them, and yoke them to our service." If, as some suppose, man can cause rain by the firing of cannon, then it may be obtained by asking it even of him. In such a case there would be simply a different adjustment of invariable laws ; and if results may be thus produced to some PRATER. 319 extent by the intervention of human will without a miracle, it cannot be irrational to suppose they may be thus produced to any extent by the divine will. The arrow shot at a venture that finds the joints of the harness, is governed by ordinary laws. Nothing but their nice adjustment is needed to carry it pre- cisely there. The intervention of will is supposed, but in no other relation to fixed law than that of the human will when it causes ice by a freezing mix- ture. This removes a difficulty which has weighed heavily on many minds. There remains the objection from the ohieotion infinite attributes of God. SiZito *'° As infinite in knowledge, God knows »'"^''"*™- what we need before we ask Him. We can tell Him nothing new. He also knows what events are to be, therefore they cannot be changed. As infinite in goodness, He will do for us what is best whether we ask Him or not. In obviating these difficulties, we may say — 1. That no one can read the speculations of such men as Spinoza, Kant, Cousin, and Hamilton, upon the Infinite, without feeling that they are dealing with a subject which they do not fully grasp ; and that it can never be wise to set the results of such speculations in opposition to the practical principles of our nature. The apparent contradictions result- ing from these speculations were such that Kant felt obliged to recognize or invent what he called a Practical Reason, as the only basis of rational conduct. 820 MORAL SCIENCE. 2. The objection so makes God infinite as really to limit Him, and virtually to deny his personality. It makes it impossible for Him to be a Father, or moral Governor. Prayer is an act of choice and free will. So is murder. And if, because God is infinite, and knows what is to be, and will do what is best, it can make no difference with a man whether he prays or not, for the same reason it can make no difference whether he murders or not. It will follow that God will do what He will do, with- out reference to human conduct, which is subversive of moral government, and a practical absurdity. If we regard God as a person, and man also, the pos- sibility of such direct intercourse as prayer involves must be allowed ; nor can we conceive of a being, especially of an Infinite Being, having fiilly the attributes of personality, that is, being really God, to whom It would be impossible to answer prayer. Why not say that the immutable God immutably, that is always, answers prayer ? The difficulty lies in connecting personality with infinite attributes, and those who deny that prayer may be efficaciouis, really deny the personality and fatherhood of God. It is to the fatherhood of God that we cling. To that we turn with infinite relief, from those limitless and dreary abstractions, which philosophy calls the Infinite and the Absolute. Without that, we are orphans : virtually, all is Fate. With that, nothing can rationally prevent the child fi-om coming to the Father, or even the sinner, when he sees evidence PRATER. 821 of placability, from coming " boldly unto the throne of grace, that he may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." With this view of the nature and reasonableness of prayer, it only remains to say that its •^gt^^m fortn is of little consequence. Prayer is "' r^y"- more than desire — more than sincere desire. It is paramount desire offered to God with a filial spirit. Of necessity this will be both reverent and importunate. Such prayer, whether repeated from memory, or read from a book, or, as would seem most natural, uttered directly from the promptings of the heart, is always heard. 21 CHAPTER IV. THE SABBATH. The last duty to be considered is the keeping of the Sabbath. To man, originally, the Sabbath must have come as a positive institution, since he could have seen no reason for it, aside from the divine command. It has since been commonly regarded as partly pos- itive and partly moral. Now, however, as a reason can be assigned for it, and even for the proportion of time designated, it may be regarded as wholly moral. In considering the Sabbath, we shall first treat of the Religious, and then of the Civil Sabbath. By the Religious Sabbath, we mean a day set apart by God himself for his own worship, and to secure, in connection with that, the religious cul- ture and final salvation of men. By the Civil Sabbath, we mean a day made " non-legal," in which public business shall be sus- pended, and in which all labor and recreation shall be so far restrained, that the ends of a religious Sab- bath may be secured by those who wish it. THE SABBATH. 328 In treating of the religious Sabbath, we naturally consider, first, its origin and history. Concerning these, the points which the fiiends of the Sabbath accept and regard as estabUshed are the following : — 1. That the Sabbath was given to our first par- ents in Eden, according to the account in Genesis ii. 2, 3 ; and that it was intended for the race. 2. That we find unmistakable indications of the Sabbath, both in the Scriptures and in heathen liter- ature, between the original command and the giving of the Law. 3. That when the Law was given, the command to hallow the Sabbath was made conspicuous, as one of the ten commandments. That it has the same rank as the other commandments, all of which are moral in their character, and universally binding. 4. That during the subsequent history of the Jews the Sabbath is referred to by the prophets in a way to show that they classed it with the other commandments, and that they regarded its obser- vance as intimately connected with the prosperity of the nation. 6. That at the time of our Saviour the Sabbath was observed with great strictness ; that the people assembled regularly for public worship, and that Moses and the prophets were read in the syna- gogiifes every Sabbath-day. Also, that this worship was attended by our Saviour, and that while He re- proved the superstitious observances and over- 324 MORAL SCIENCE. scrupulousness that had crept in, He yet recognized the Sabbath as a divine institution, and as " made for man." 6. That after the resurrection of Christ the day was changed, and that the Christian Sabbath, with substantially the same ends, has been perpetuated till the present time. These points have been amply discussed by many writers, and as they belong to history rather than to philosophy, they will not be further noticed here. We proceed to inquire what may be known of the origin of the Sabbath, from the character and condi- tion of man. And here we observe that the religious Sabbath authenticates itself as from God. This it does in various ways. 1. Regarding man as sinful, taking him as we now find him in every country where the Sabbath is unknown, the very conception of a holy Sabbath would have been impossible. There could have been nothing within him or without him to suggest it. 2. Regarding men as selfish, the rich and the powerful would never have originated an institution, or consented to it, which would not only free laborers and dependents and slaves from labor one seventh of the time, but would require that time for the service of another. 3. As the Sabbath corresponds with no cycle or natural division of time, it must have been impos- sible for any man, or number of men, to single out THE SABBATH. 826 one day, and set it apart authoritatively. Man could neither have decided rightly the proportion of time to be set apart, nor have guarded the sanctity of the day by penalties. If the division of time into weeks were wholly unknown, it would be impossible that it should be introduced by man. 4. Man could not have so associated the Sabbath with the grandest ideas made known by revelation, or possible to thought, as the creation of the world, the resurrection of Christ, the outpouring of the Spirit, and the rest of a holy heaven. He could not have made it span the arch from the beginning till the consummation of all things. 5. The Sabbath authenticates its divine origin not only as it thus blends with the highest ideas and interests of man, as connected with the past and the future, but by its analogy with the works of God as simple, and at the same time touching the interests of the present life at so many points. In this it is like the air and the water, which seem so simple, yet subserve so many uses. As thus impossible to have been originated by man, as connected with the creation of the world, with the resurrection of Christ, with the outpouring of the Spirit, and with the rest of heaven ; being analogous to nature, and promoting every interest of time, we say that the religious Sabbath comes to man bearing its own credentials as from God. From the origin of the Sabbath we TheSabiwa turn to its necessity for man. for man. I. Of its necessity for man as an individual. 326 MORAi SCIENCE. Of this the first ground is the necessity man is in For reugions °f religious instruction. The religion of toBtraction. jj^g gj^g Jg jj^j. g^ f^j^ ^j^^^ (.a„ i,q gone through with mechanically, or a superstition that can he inherited, or imposed upon ignorance. It is a religion of light. This is its glory. But rational ideas of God and of his worship, and of the duty and destiny of man as a religious being, can no more be reached without instruction than similar ideas of civil society. Upon such instruction the Bible in- sists, both in the Old Testament and in the New, and for this, if it is to be made general, the Sabbath is indispensable. But it is not simply instruction that man needs. Eorpereua- ^^ uceds pcrsuasion. Indifference and ^o"- aversion are to be overcome. Men are tempted to forget God, to neglect prayer, and make light of accountability. They are tempted to live, and most men do live, for this world alone. Here is the great need of a Sabbath. There is need of time and opportunity to persuade men ; to go, if need be, " into the highways and the hedges, and compel them to come in." But again, if we suppose an individual intelli- For culture g^^^ly rcligious, the Sabbath would be and growth, needed for his culture and growth. Were men open every day to the calls of society, and sub- ject to the pressure of competition in business, the tide of worldhness would become resistless. The Sabbath brings the world to a solemn pause, aa THE SABBATH. 327 under the eye of God. It enables man to subordi- nate sense to faith, and hfts him up to the power of Hving for the unseen and the future. Again, man cannot reach his end as isolated. He is social, and needs public and social jor social worship, as well as instruction, and for •"*'■ these the Sabbath is indispensable. The Sabbath, the pulpit, the Sabbath-school, and the social meet- ings appointed on the Sabbath and revolving about it, are inseparable. Withdraw these, and it is doubtful whether the Church itself would survive. The pulpit, in connection with the Sabbath, is the only institution ever established on earth for the general diffusion of religious instruction, and for securing a form of social worship that should bring all men together in equality and brotherhood before God. II. The Sabbath is needed not only for the indi- vidual, but for the family. The Sabbath and the family were instituted in Paradise — these only, and they natu- j.^, ,,,, rally support each other. Where there is S^J^J"" no Sabbath, the domestic relations are not *'""y- held sacred, and where the domestic relations are not held sacred, there is no Sabbath. Let but these two institutions, the family and the religious Sabbath, be sustained in their integrity, and every interest of the individual and of the iamily will be Bocured. III. The Sabbath is essential to the state, if free government is to be maintained. 328 MORAL SCIENCE. No people ever have been, or ever can be, raised to a point of knowledge and virtue that would en- ' able them to maintain permanently a free govern- ment, that is, self-government, without that circle of agencies of which the Sabbath is an essential part. Without the Sabbath and the Bible there has The Sabbath been no such difiusion of kno'vsfledge goTernment. among a wholc peoplc as would qualify them for liberty. It was among those who most highly esteemed the religious Sabbath, and were persecuted for maintaining it, that the idea of edu- cating the whole people first arose and was made eflScient. The idea had its germ in that estimate of man as man, which underlies the whole system of re- ligion of which the Bible and the Sabbath are a part. But knowledge is not sufficient for freedom. There must also be virtue, principle, and a right social state. Outward forms and amenities must spring from good will, and love as a law must be applied in the relations of life as it never has been, or can be without the Sabbath and its teachings.-' IV. We next observe, that man needs the Sab- 1 As the capacity of man for ftee government is now on trial, and especially in this country, this point is of special interest to the patriot as well as to the Christian, and has attracted no little attention. Two years since, at the request of the New Tork.Sabbath Committee, a paper was read by me before the National Sabbath Convention, held at Saratoga, in which it was maintained: — 1. " That a religious observance of the Sabbath would secure the permanence of free institutions." 2. " That without the Sabbath religiously observed the permanenot of free institutions cannot be secured; " and — THE SABBATH. 329 bath as a physical being, and not he alone, but the animals that are subjected to labor by him. It is worthy of notice that cattle are especially mentioned in the fourth commandment. If this be so, it is a fact of high import, not only as showing the wide relations of the Sabbath, but the subordination of physical to moral ideas in the whole structure of the present system. The question is, Will man and animals do more work, do it better, have better health, and pij-gj^j live longer by laboring six days and rest- 5,^^,,*^ ing the seventh, than by laboring seven 8»'''"'"»- days in the week? This question can be decided only by facts, and by a wide and care&l induction. On this point extensive observations have been made by cautious men, and facts like the following are stated : " The experiment was tried on a hun- dred and twenty horses. They were employed for years seven days in a week. But they became un- healthy, and finally died so fast that the owner thought it too expensive, and put them on a six days' arrangement. After this he was not obliged to replenish them one fourth as often as before. Instead of sinking continually, his horses came up again, and lived years longer than they could have 3. " That the civil as based on the leligioas Sabbath is an institntioD to which society has a natural right, precisely as it has to property." These propositions, it is believed, can be established, and if so th« Sabbath mast be from God. The paper referred to having been published by the Sabbath Com- mittee and extensively circulated, it is, perhaps, sufficient to refer to it here. 330 MORAL SCIENCE. done on the other plan." Nnmerous cases of this kind are stated by Dr. Justin Edwards in his " Sab- bath Manual." A friend writes me that when the extensive stable of the 3d Avenue Railroad, in New York, was com- pleted, he was invited to inspect it ; and noticing that the stables were arranged in groups of seven, he found on inquiry " that the object was to have a gang or team of horses together ; that each car re- quired three pair of horses per day, each pair going about twenty-four miles ; but that this was not enough, for that a horse, no matter how well fed and cared for, required rest, and that the only way to give it to him and still keep the car running was to have an odd horse which should come in and take his turn at the work." This gave each horse a seventh part of the time for rest. " It had been tried, the superintendent said, with less, and with more, but that it took just about seven horses to run the car all the time." My friend adds : " This re- sult had apparently been reached through pure experience, but however reached, it had not been founded upon any Scriptural reason ; and I have no doubt but that the superintendent and directors were entirely unconscious of the fact that they were fol- lowing a divine precept." In view of facts like the above, Dr. Edwards felt authorized to say of laboring animals that " when employed but six days in a week, and allowed to rest one, they are more healthy than they can be THE SABBATH. 331 when employed during the whole seven. They do more work, and live longer." And what is true of animals is true of man. From extensive inquiries, from reports made by government commissioners, and from the opinion of many scientific physicians, Dr. Edwards concludes that "men who labor six days in a week, and rest one, can do more work in all kinds of business, in all parts of the world, and do it in a better manner than those who labor seven." Also, "that it is now settled by facts that the observance of the Sabbath is required by a natural law, and that were man nothing more than an animal it would be for his interest to observe the Sabbath." ^ The above refers to physical labor ; but as the power of vigorous and persistent mental The mental 5^ Pill- po'®™ nwi labor depends on the state of the body, it » Sabbath. will follow that more such labor can be done, and better done by those who keep the Sabbath, than by those who do not. This is confirmed by facts, beginning with the testimony of Sir Matthew Hale, which seems to have first called attention to the subject. He said : " If I had at any time bor- rowed from this day any time for my secular em- ployment I found that it did further me less than if I had let it alone, and therefore, when some years' experience, upon a most attentive and vigilant observation, had given me this instruction, I grew peremptorily resolved never in this kind to make a 1 See Sab. Doc. No. 1, p. 41. 832 MORAL SCIENCE. breach upon the Lord's day, which I have now strictly observed for more than thirty years." On this point more recent testimony is abundant, but need not be added. The views above presented rest on their own basis, though they could never have been reached without revelation, and they justify us in calKng special attention to the saying of our Saviour, that " the Sabbath was made for man." Viewing him in whatever aspect, whether as a physical, an in- tellectual, or a moral and religious being ; whether in his domestic, his social, or his civil relations, we see that the Sabbath is an integral and essential part of the divine arrangement for his training and well-being. If the preceding views are correct, and also the Man's right doctrine of rights already considered, it Sabbath. will follow that man has a right to the civil Sabbath, on the same ground that he has a right to property, or to anything else ) and that it belongs to legislation to secure him in the enjoy- ment of that right. Rights are from the necessity of those things to which man has a right, to secure the various ends indicated by the active principles of his constitution, and they vary in importance and sacredness accord- ing to the importance and sacredness of the end. But the highest end of man is a rehgiously social end. His most sacred right must therefore be to the requisites and conditions for attaining that end, THE SABBATH. 333 and he will have a right to demand of society what- ever legislation may be required for that. The civil society which does not afford to every man the most favorable conditions for the attainment of the ends for which God made him, needs modification, and if it would render such attainment impossible, it needs reconstruction. In saying the above we disclaim any purpose to make men moral or religious by legislation, or to interfere with any liberty that would not trench upon rights. Give us our rights, give us the still- ness and quiet needed for the religious impression of the Sabbath, for the instruction of families, and for public worship, and we are content. To these, as needed for the attainment of our highest ends, we have a right. " It may also be said that society, as being from God, has a natural right to anything necessary to secure its own ends. If, therefore, it can be shown, as it can be, and has been, that those ends cannot be secured without the Sabbath, then society has, on this ground also, a right to legislate in favor of the civil Sabbath." ^ It only remains to speak of the manner in which the Sabbath should be kept. How the Sabbath must be kept must Manner of be determined in part from its origin, but dete^ed chiefly from its end. y i en • A.S associated with great and joyftil events in the 1 See Sabbath and Free ItutUutions, p. IT. 334 MORAL SCIENCE. past, the Sabbath is of the nature of a festival, aii6 should be a day of joy. As calling us to cease from the toil imposed by the primeval curse, and to lay aside its soiled garments, the Sabbath is a day of release and of refreshment. As pointing to a rest of holy activity, in which the curse of toil shall be wholly lifted from us, the Sabbath is a day of de- lightful anticipation, and of earnest preparation. To one acquainted with its origin, and sympathizing with its end, the whole tone and aspect of the day must be bright, and its spirit free ; but, as has been said, the manner of keeping the day, its duties and employments, must be mainly determined by its end. Is the end of the Sabbath physical ? Then it is to be spent in physical culture. Is it intellectual ? Then the schools, and lyceums, and libraries should be opened and thronged. Is the end sesthetic? Then we are to listen to fine music, and view works of art. Is it social ? Then we are to make calls, and attend dinner parties. Is the end communion with nature, or with the God of nature, distinc- tively ? Then we are to walk in the fields and woods, and go on excursions. Is the end of the Sabbath religious? Then it is to be kept holy. Then are we to bring ourselves by every method of his appointment, into immediate and conscious re- lation to God as a holy God, and our end will be the promotion of holiness in ourselves and others. This is the end designated by God, the only worthy THE SABBATH. 385 end, the only end, even, in connection with which any other can he fiilly secured. But while the above is the end, it does not follow that it is the only end ; for here, as else- Higher &nd where, we find higher and lower ends, i"""™**- and here, too, the law of limitation holds. Every lower good may be promoted, and should be, but only so far as it is a condition for one that is higher. Holiness is the supreme end. So far as that wUl be promoted by physical rest and " bodily exercise," by study, or art, or social intercourse, or commun- ion with nature, these will be in place, but no further. " The Sabbath was made for man," and whatever labor or service his good may require us to perform on that day, we are to do — all works of necessity and mercy. But we are to remember that it was made for man especially as a religious being, and as his great need is conformity to God, if the Sabbath be not so kept as to promote that, it fails of its chief end. It fails to be properly a Sabbath. But let it be kept so as to promote this end, and every inferior good will follow. There will be physical rest. There will be that study of the Word of God and that meditation which give light and depth to the intel- lect. There will be sacred song, with so much of art as higher ends may demand or permit. There will be that family worship which hallows the home, and that public and social worship which at once humbles and exalts men, and brings them together as one family before God. Man will have sympathy 836 MOBAL aCIENCE. with nature, not merely as expressing the natura attributes of God, but as the basis and frame-work, and in some of its aspects, the silent prophecy of a higher moral and Christian system. All this he will have under the law of limitation, and in addi- tion, the limitless good that comes from conformity to God, and direct communication with Him. Such a law of the Sabbath is as precise as can be given and not keep men children, or make them machines. It avoids all precisionism, allowing each one to decide for himself, whether or not he may pluck the ears of corn as he passes through the field, and rub them with his hands. The requirement to keep the Sabbath holy places HoUness i* '^^ * peculiar position, as making holi- SrighToii^' ^^^^ necessary to the right keeping of it. Berrance. j^ jg sclf-evideut that the religious Sabbath must be kept religiously, and that only a relig- ious man can do that. Here is the great difficulty with the Sabbath ; but it is only the same as with the service of God in any form. " Ye cannot," said Joshua to the Israelites of old, " serve the Lord, for He is a holy God." The very reason why they should do it was the reason why they could not. The faculties can act with alacrity only with ref- erence to a congenial end. Let a man " hunger and thirst after righteousness," and all opportunities and means of attaining it wUl be welcomed and im- proved. This alone can free the Sabbath from that impression of negation and vacuity and i:est>:aint. THE SABBATH. 887 which they must feel who are brought up to keep it strictly, but have no sympathy with its ends as religious. Restrained by conscience or by custom from employments and pleasures that are congenial, and with no taste for the proper business and enjoy- ments of the day, it will be " a weariness," and they will say, as was said by men similarly' situated three thousand years ago, and has been ever since, " When will the Sabbath be gone, that we may set forth wheat ? " For this irksomeness of the Sabbath there are but three possible remedies. One is that God should change his law ; one that men should obey it ; and the third, that they should disregard and pervert it by spending the day in business or pleasure. The observance of the Sabbath has been supposed to be peculiarly a guard against crime. ^^ It is so because it is more purely than any- ™'\^"* thing else a test of regard to the authority ''"™- of God. As no time is intrinsically holy, and nothing but the command of God can make it so, the observance of a specified time on that ground is almost sure to be connected with the fear of God in other things. Hence, of 1232 convicts in Auburn State prison, only 26 had conscientiously kept the Sabbath ; and of 203 who were committed in one year, only two had conscientiously done so. For the same reason, desecration of the Sabbath is often the beginning of a course of vice and crime. As of old with the Israelites, the Sabbath seems to be set 22 338 MORAL SCIENCE. as a sign between God and men, and when they dis- regard that, all fear of Him departs. It is, there- fore, ominous of every form of evil when a young person begins to disregard the Sabbath. Tell me how the Sabbath is spent, and I will give you a moral history of the rest of the week. It has also been supposed that something of dis- ProTidence criminatiou, enough to show which side Sabbath. Qod is ou, may be discerned in special evils which follow Sabbath desecration. It is said by careful observers, and confirmed by striking facts, that those who seek to obtain their own ends, whether of business or pleasure, by appropriating God's time for them, often find themselves strangely thwarted, sometimes by seeming accidents and sud- den events, and sometimes in the long lines of God's providence. This may well be, for if the law of the Sabbath be the law of God, we may be sure that there is no such infiexibility of natural forces that they cannot be brought to conspire with it, and that in some way it will ultimately vindicate itself. " Who hath hardened himself against Him, and prospered ? " The religious Sabbath has been dwelt upon thus at length, from the conviction that it is Conclusion. .,.,..,,. in-. Vital to individual piety, to the family, and to our free institutions ; and also that it can be sus- tained only by a clear apprehension of its grounds, and by vigilance and struggle. To a perverted Sabbath, a day of amusement, spectacles, idleness, THE SABBATH. 339 and consequent vice and degradation ; despotism, in- fidelity, and formalism have no objection. Sucli a day is their surest means of undermining everything opposed to them. It is the temple of God become a den of thieves. It is a holy Sabbath that is the point of their common attack, and this it is that the friends of an enlightened Christianity, and of free institutions, are called upon to sustain. The fourth and the fifth commandments stand together in the centre of the Decalogue ; and as it is through these that there is a connection between the two tables of the divine Law, so it is through the Sabbath that a divine influence passes into the family, and through that into society. This is the divine order — the Sabbath and the family mutu- ally supporting each other ; and God, through them, working out a perfect society. It remains to the Christian and the patriot to accept this order, and w ork together with Him. APPENDIX A. Having reached this point, it may be serviceable to some if, as I was urgently requested, I indicate the method in which the processes we have gone over were presented on the blackboard. The first word taken was " Law." It being pre- sumed that each hearer had some notion in his mind corresponding to the word, the audience were requested to make that notion definite, and to state to themselves what must have been in their minds before they could have had it. The word was then written in front of a vertical line, and each one requested to think what must have lain back of it, and proximate to it. When the first word had been fixed on, the next was sought, and so on, till the process was completed. When this was done the order was as in the text, but the numbers were reversed. Thus — 4 3 3 11 Being. Force. Uniformity. An End. ; ^^'^• It was then read backwards, thus ; Being, originating force, uniformly, so as to accomplish an intelligible end, gives us the conception of law. This applies to physical law, though even with refer- ence to that all might not be agreed. That, however, is of no consequence here, the object being simply to show the method. After Law, Moral Law and Obli- gation were investigated in the same way, though the process was much more extended. Attention was thus concentrated, and ideas and their relations were made more definite. It is obvious that the method admits of wide application. APPENDIX B. To show to the eye how inclusive the word " Love " is, as ordinarily used, the following scheme was placed on the blackboard. In this as in all cases of develop- ment, the word is placed on the left side of the line. UlT«Of Complacency, or com- ) Spontaneous placent Love. ) after choice. i Rational. Good in itself. f Natoial Affections. Ooi. Oar Neighbor. Self. Brothers, etc. Children. Parents. Esteem. Power. Knowledge. Property. Ufe. food uul Drink. | Appetites. Spontaneoni befoiv chdee. APPENDIX C. HOPKINS'S "LAW OF LOVE AND LOVE ASA LAW.' BT THE REV. JAMES MOCOSH, LL. D., D. D. In the summer of 1866 I found myself wandering among the limbs of the Green Mountains, and it oc- curred to me that I ought to find my way to Williams- town and its college. One end I had in view was to see more of the grand scenery — the lovely forests and towering mountains, by which the region is character- ized. I was certainly not disappointed in the situation of the town. It is placed on a knoll in the heart of a capacious hollow, surrounded with imposing mountains. It struck me as a spot at which the Last Judgment might be held, with the universe assembled on the slopes of the encircling hills. But I had another object on which I had set my heart still more earnestly, and this was to make the acquaintance of the President of the college, whose works I had read in my own country, and whose character I had been led to revere by the accounts given me by those who knew him intimately. And if I was not disappointed with the scenery, I was still less so with Dr. Hopkins, whom I found a man stalwart and elevated like the mountains among which he lives and muses, and yet adorned withal with graces as lovely as the foliage of the spruce hemlock which there clothes the scenery. Since that time I ever place him before me, in imagination, seated under a tree in the heart of the mountains, pondering some deep theme, seeking light for himself, and wishing to impart it to others. 344 APPENDIX C. In the book before us he has given us the result of his thoughts on no lower a subject than Law and Love and the relation between them. And surely these two must be intimately connected, and this whether we are able to express it in categorical form or not. There can be no moral excellence wiihout love ; but just as little can there be without a rule, without obligation. The two seem to be inseparably joined in the nature of things, as they certainly are in the revelation which God has given of duty in the Word, — " For this is the sum of the Ten Commandments, to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself." Jonathan Edwards used to ponder this profound sub- ject. Francis Hutcheson, the founder of the Scottish School of Philosophy, had labored to prove that virtue consists in benevolence. Edwards saw the defect of this theory, as omitting love to God and justice, which are virtues quite as much as benevolence. So amending the theory of Hutcheson, Edwards makes the bold attempt to resolve all virtue into love, in love to being as being, and. distributed to beings as they have claims upon us. But, with all his acuteness, he failed to see that in this resolution he had unwittingly introduced another idea besides love — that of claim or ohligation — the claim of being as being, the separate claims of different beings, say of God, of father and mother, of husband and wife, of brothers and sisters, of rulers and subjects, of friends and foes. That being has claims upon us — that dif- ferent beings, such as God and our neighbors, have separate claims upon us, — this turns out to be an ulti- mate truth, which cannot be resolved into anything inferior to itself. Why ought I to love my fellow-men ? Why ought I to love God, and to love him more than APPENDIX C. 345 I love even my fellow-men ? To us, whatever there may be to higher intelligences, there can be no answer bnt one, and that is, that I ought to do so. And if any one puts the other question, How do I come to know this ? there is but one answer, and this is, that it is self-evident. And this leads me to remark that there is a great defect in the prevailing doctrine of our day among metaphysicians — a doctrine introduced by Kant into Germany and by Sir W. Hamilton among English-speaking nations — as to what are the proper tests of first truths : these are represented as necessity and universality. The primary mark of first truths was seized by Locke with his usual sagacity : it is self-evi- dence. We regard God as having a claim upon our love, not because we are necessitated to love him, or because all men love him, but because it is right, and men see it to be so at once ; and it is because they see it to be so that the necessity and universality arise. Edwards has succeeded in showing that love is an essen- tial element in virtue ; but he has not succeeded in proving that to us there is no other element. In par- ticular, there is a binding obligation to love God and man, and not only so, but to discountenance and punish sin and to countenance and encourage moral excellence. And now we find a thinker of this century, and liv- ing in much the same parts, trying to solve the same problem of the relation of law to love, and love to law, and thinking he has solved it. The following is his noble language : ^ — " Law and love ! These are the two mightiest forces in the universe, and thus do we marry them. The place of the nuptials is in the innermost sanctuary of the soul. As in all right marriage, there is both con- trariety and deep harmony. Law is stern, majestic, and the fountain of all order. Love is mild, winning, the 1 Page 108. 346 APPENDIX C. fountain of all rational spontaneity — that is, of the Bpontaneity that follows rational choice. Love without law is capricious, weak, mischievous : opposed to law it is wicked. Law without love is unlovely. The highest harmony of the universe is in the love of a rational being that is coincident with the law of that being rationally affirmed ; and the deepest possible jar and discord is from the love, persistent and utter, of such a being in opposition to his law. It is because there is in the Divine Being this harmony of law with love that He is perfect." It is a curious circumstance that Dr. Hopkins does not examine, or even refer to the attempt made by Ed- wards. Indeed it is one of the peculiarities of our author — under one aspect an excellence, under another a defect — that, like Edwards, he is largely a " self-con- tained" thinker. The reading of the one, as of the other, seems confined, and confined to rather common- place works. This circumstance imparts a freshness and an independence to their thinking, but at times it keeps them from seeing certain aspects of their theme which others have noticed and brought out to view. Dr. Hopkins, as every one who knows his spirit would expect, has a great aversion to ancient Epicure- anism and modern Utilitarianism. He speaks with great contempt of " the sty of Epicurus," " the dirt phi- losophy" and "the bread and butter philosophy." On the other hand, he is not prepared to give his adherence to the counter doctrine of intuitive morals. Avoiding, as he reckons, the errors of both extremes, he is striving to construct a theory of his own, and he defends it with able arguments and acute distinctions. I am not sure whether he has been successful any more than Edwards was in a like attempt. WhOe evidently and strongly aiming at something higher, I fear that, without meaning APPENDIX C. 347 It, he has landed himself logically in Eudaimonism, or in making enjoyment the supreme end of man and of virtue. He admits fully that there is in the mind of man original and fundamental ideas : " I am one of those who believe that there are simple and ultimate ideas." ^ He gives existence as an example : " That of existence, or being, is one. All men have, and must have, an idea of something, of themselves as existing." But then he will not allow that an idea, which seems to me to be as much entitled to be regarded as simple and original as any other we could name, is of that description. I refer to our idea of Right. He insists that there is, that there must be, an ultimate end to which everything else is subordinate. But he denies that doing right, as right, can be that end. What, then, is the ultimate end, according to Dr. Hopkins ? It comes, in the end, to be a " form of enjoyment or satis- faction." He says it is " the good." But what is the good ? The following is his answer : " An objective good is anything so correlated to a conscious being as to produce subjective good. Subjective good is some form of enjoyment or satisfaction in the consciousness." He tells us that " strictly there is no good that is not sub- jective." ^ This is explicit enough. Commonly he speaks of the ultimate end in virtuous conduct as being " the good " or " well being." But then the phrases " good " and " well being " are ambiguous ; they may mean pleasure, or they may mean moral good and moral well being. I am not sure whether Dr. Hopkins is not kept at times, by the amphiboly of these phrases, from seeing the full consequences of his theory. Let him, or let his readers, substitute " some form of enjoy- ment or satisfaction in the consciousness " for " good " and " well being," and what the precise doctrine is, and 1 Page 20. 2 Page 51 348 APPENDIX C. must be, will at once become patent. He tells ua again and again : " It is an affirmation, through the moral reason, of obligation to choose the supreme end for which God made us — that is, to choose the good of all beings capable of good, our own included, and put forth all those volitions which may be required to attain or secure that good." ^ This sounds well, and is in entire accordance with the impression which Dr. Hopkins means to leave. But substitute for " good " " some form of enjoyment or satisfaction in the consciousness," and it comes to this, logically — that the supreme end of man is to choose the enjoyment of all, including, so far as I see, the enjoyment of the Supreme Being. He is careful to explain, in thus speaking of good as " some form of enjoyment or satisfaction," that he does not mean our own good, but " that of all conscious beings." But whether he means it or no, whether he wishes it or no, whether he sees it or no, this is in the end the utilitarian or "greatest happiness principle." This is the logical consequence, and if not drawn by himself it will be drawn by othei's ; and the history of philosophy and theology shows that what follows log- ically will, in fact, follow chronologically, when the sys- tem has had time to work and show its effects. And, after all, Dr. Hopkins cannot get rid of an ulti- mate principle of i-ight. For why am I or any other man required to look after the good ? — meaning the en- joyment of all conscious beings — is the question that ever comes up. Why am I bound to look after any one's enjoyment but my own ? The answer to this question by such a man as Dr. Hopkins must be, Because it is right, which right is discovered by the moral reason, and is an ultimate idea and an ultimate end. Right thus comes, like love, to be an end in itself, inferior to no other, subordinated to no other. 1 Page 99. APPENDIX C. 349 He cannot avoid this conclusion by the distinctions which he draws. He tells us '' that holiness is not a means of happiness but the cause," and " that a cause we always conceive of as higher than its effects,'' and gives, as an illustration, " God as a cause is higher than the universe." True, God as a cause is higher than any creature effect, or, we may add, any creature cause. But as to creature causes and effects, 1 am not sure that the cause is always higher thun its effects. These late discussions as to the nature of causation have shown that all physical causes are composed of more than one agent, and tliat all effects are capable of be- coming causes which may or may not be greater than the effects. I am not sure that the causes which led to the abolition of slavery in the United States were higher than the effect — the abolition of slavery. But grant- ing his doctrine to be true, that holiness is greater than happiness because it is the cause of happiness (it is sometimes, also, in our world the cause of suffering), then it surely follows that holiness, which is the higher, and not happiness, ought to be the ultimate end. The following is evidently the difficulty which Dr. Hopkins feels in making right the end of moral action : " It is plain that the quality of an action can never be the ground of an obligation to do that action." " Think of a man's doing good to another, not from good will, but for the sake of the Tightness of his own act. Think of his loving God for the same reason. Certainly, if we regard right as the quality of an action, no man can be under an obligation to do an act morally right for which there is not a reason besides its being right, and on the ground of which it is right." ^ This is pointedly put. But it is possible to meet it. The difficulty arises from a confusion of idea into which we are apt to fall when we think or speak of ultimate 1 Pages 18, 19. 350 APPENDIX C. Ideas or ends. We talk of them as having a reason, but then we are apt to forget that this reason is not out of themselves but in themselves. It, lies in the objects contemplated, and is seen to be so by the ba^-e contem- plation of the objects, that is by self-evidence, which is the primary mark of intuitive truth. All that passes under the name of love is not virtuous. Certainly our love is not always virtuous when we contemplate some form of enjoyment or satisfaction to ourselves or others. But when we love God and our fellow-men in a truly virtuous manner, we feel that love, that this love, is due to them. In this, as in all cases of moral excellence, the ought, the due, the obligation, comes in along with love, and is an ultimate end inferior to no other. Dr. Hopkins sees that utilitarianism has a truth in it. The truth lies in this, that we are bound by ultimate moral principle to promote the happiness of mankind. Or, to give a deeper and juster account, we are bound not only to do good to all conscious beings, we are bound to love them. Viewed under this aspect, the principle of virtue is not beneficence, but love. Had Dr. Hopkins, with his clinching power and high moral aims, brought out these two truths more fully than intui- tive moralists have done, he would have done essential service to ethical science, which has sometimes given morality a repulsive aspect, by exhibiting law as sepa- rated from love. But this is not the way in which Dr. Hopkins " marries " the parties. He thinks he has done great service to ethics by showing how fensibility, pleas- ure, enjoyment, or satisfaction is a condition of moral good. "A sensibility is the condition precedent of all moral ideas." I am not sure that he is absolutely right here. We may put the case that God creates an angelic being with high intellectual endowments, but without sensibility. Is not that angel bound to be grateful to APPENDIX C. 351 God, from the very relation in which he stands to his Creator, and apart altogethei' from sensibility on his part or the part of God ? In following out this princi- ple, I hold that man is bound to love God, apart alto- gether from this love producing any enjoyment on God's pan or on man's part. Dr. Hopkins is obliged, in effecting his reconciliation, to give a very inadequate view of law. " The object of law is the control of force by direction and regulation with reference to an end." Surely, the deepest idea of a moral law is here lost sight of, which is obligation to cherish the affection or do the deed as being right. But while I take objection to the very peculiar theory advocated as to the ground of morality, I am bound to speak in highest terms of the ability and high moral purpose displayed throughout the volume. Except in regard to the special theory in the first part, I have nothing to say against the work, and much to say in its favor. Of the second, or practical part, I have to speak only in highest commendation. Take the following as a specimen, selected at random, of the clear discrimina- tion and admirable judgment everywhere displayed. " Property may be permanently and rightfully alien- ated by gift, by exchange, and by sale. It is also per- manently alienated by gambling; this has different forms. In some cases, as in dice and in lotteries, it is simply an appeal to chance. In others, as in cards, there is a mixture of chance and skill. In others, as in betting, of chance and judgment. In all cases, the object is gain without an equivalent, and while there is such gain on one side, there is, on the other, loss without compen- sation. In legitimate trade both parties are benefited ; in gambling, but one. Legitimate trade requires and promotes habits of industry and skill ; gambling gener- ates indolence and vice, and stimulates a most infatuating and often uncontrollable passion. It is wholly selfish, 352 APPENDIX C. and wholly injurious in its effects upon the community. That a practice thus inherently vicious, should be re- sorted to for charitable purposes, does not change its character, but only tends to confound moral instructions. But are all appeals to chance in (he distribution of prop- erty gambling ? Not necessarily, if we define it by its motives and results. A picture is given to a fair. No individual will give for it its value ; that value is con- tributed by a number and the picture disposed of by lot ; this differs from an ordinary lottery : 1st, Because there are no expenses, and all that is given goes for an object which the parties are gathered to promote. 2d, The prize is given, so that nothing is taken for the prizes from the amount paid in, but the whole goes for the proposed object. 3d, This may be done from a sim- ple desire that the fair should realize the worth of its property, and so, benevolently. And all appeals to chance under these conditions are not likely to be so frequent or general as to endanger the habits of the community. All this may, and should, in fairness, be said. It should also be said, 1st, that no form of charity should be tolerated for a moment that in the actual state of a community will foster a spirit of gam- bling. It should be said, 2d, that any attempt to promote a benevolent object by an appeal to selfish mo- tives is wrong. Benevolent giving is a means of Chris- tian culture, but selfish giving in the form of benevo- lence is a deception and a snare. If the cause of benevolence cannot be supported benevolently, it had better not be supported at all." I commend all intelligent readers to buy this book and read it with care, and they will find themselves travelling in the company of a man of high and inde- pendent soul, who expresses his thoughts in brief and weighty sentences, and imparts much moral instruction of a lofty order. APPENDIX C. 353 ANSWER TO EEV. DE. McCOSH. BY EET. MARK HOPKINS, D. D. In reviewing " The Law of Love," in the " Observer '' of April 15th, Dr. McCosh speaks of his visit to Wil- liamstown and to myself. That visit is among my most pleasing recollections. It was during the summer vacation ; the weather was fln'e, and we were quite at leisure to stroll about the grounds and ride over the hills. Riding thus, we reached, I remember, a point which he said reminded hira of Scotland. There we alighted. At once he bounded into the field like a young man, passed up the hillside, and, casting himself at full length under a shade, gave himself up for a time to the asso- ciations and inspiration of the scene. I seem to see him now, a man of world-wide reputation, lying thus solitary among these hills. They were draped in a dreamy haze suggestive of poetic inspirations, and from his quiet but evidently intense enjoyment, he might well, if lie had not been a great metaphysician, have been taken for a great poet. And indeed, though he had revealed himself chiefly on the metaphysical side, it was evident that he shared largely in that happy temperament of which Shakespeare and Tennyson are the best examples, in which metaphysics and poetry seem to be fused into one and become identical. As befitted the season, our conversation was in the light and aroma of those great truths in which we were agreed, without any attempt to go down to their roots. As, however, I was meditating my book, I went so far as to ascertain from him more fully what I knew be- fore from his writings, that he held to an ultimate right, and would not agree with me. My ground on that 23 854 APPENDIX C. point was therefore not hastily taken, and while I ac- knowledge fully the want of reading referred to by Dr. McCosh, and regret it, I may be permitted to Buy that on this subject he has presented no point that I had not seen, and has raised no objection that I had not considered. That the foundation of obligation should be gener- ally understood is most desirable, and as the subject so appeals to the common consciousness that every intel- ligent man can understand it, I cannot but think that Dr. McCosh has done a public service in bringing it thus prominently before the wide circle reached by the " Observer." Thanking him, therefore, for this, as well as for his courtesy and kind words to myself, I will en- deavor to do something to aid the object he thus evi- dently had in view. In doing this, I propose, since the book reviewed has probably not been seen by one in fifty of the read- ers of the " Observer," 1st, to make a condensed statement of the system it contains ; 2d, to inquire whether that system is one of utilitarianism or eudaimonism, which is the thing objected against it ; and 3d, to inquire whether Dr. McCosh can hold his system in consistency with the Scriptures, or with himself. " Morality regards man as active." It asks, " What ought to be done ? " " Why ought it to be done ? " " How ought it to be done ? " How shall we answer these questions ? The method adopted in my books is so simple and obvious that nobody but a philosopher could ever have missed it. It assumes that all moral action is rational action, and that all rational action must not only have an end, but must find its occasion and reason in that end. This being assumed, the next st«p is, and must be, to inquire what the end of man is. This is the un- APPENDIX C. 355 derlying question of all philosophy of action for man. This we may know, or suppose we do, because we are told it ; or we may know it by investigating the struc- ture of man in connection with his position, just as we do that of a locomotive standing on a railway track. In the first case, we should know the end by faith ; in the second, by philosophy. The faith may be ra- tional, wholly so. That will depend on the ground of our confidence in him who tells us. But it will not be philosophical. Both methods are legitimate, but must ultimately coincide. It would not do . for any- thing claiming to be a revelation to say that the chief end of a locomotive was to stand still and scream through the steam whistle, and no teaching could stand that should go clearly against the end as revealed in the structure. Of the above methods, the Westminster divines, whose earnest minds were instinctively led to the ques- tion of an end, adopted the first. But, adopting a right method, they regarded man solely as under a remedial system, of which philosophy can know noth- ing, except, indeed, as it may become a test of anything claiming to be such a system. The end, however, as stated by them, I adopt fully, while Dr. McCosh, as I understand him, adopts it only in part. According to him, " man is bound to love God apart altogether from this love producing any enjoyment on God's part, or on man's part." This must mean that enjoyment ought to be no part of the end in any moral action. That is the principle of it. Would Dr. McCosh say so? Would he say that virtuous love to God, which must consist in good-will, or the willing of good, would be possible if God were as incapable of enjoyment as a rock? To me, the conception even of such love is impossible, and yet the statement of Dr. McCosh would 356 APPENDIX C. eeera to require it. But, however this may be, what we need is no mere statement based on faith, but a philosophy of action, and for me this is possible only from a knowledge of the end of man as revealed in his structure. Let us then take man as we would a locomotive, and see if we can, as we could in that, find his end from his structure. This is no question of words and subtle distinctions that two hair-splitting philosophers may fall to loggerheads about. It is a great problem which I .have hoped by my books, and hope by this paper, to set many at working out. This we are to do independently of revelation. I would do it cautiously and reverently, but I would do it. We are, indeed, bound to do it for ourselves, and not to leave it to be done by infidels, and then weakly quarrel with the results. In doing this we shall find aid in observing all lower forces that work towards ends. These we find ar- ranged in a beautiful gradation as conditioning and con- ditioned, and so higher^ and lower ; thus giving, as I have shown, a law of limitation for the regulation of all forces and faculties except the highest. In observ- ing these forces the point to be noticed is, that in pass- ing upward nature reaches points where she does not proceed by gradations that pass into each other, but by leaps. This she does when she passes from inor- ganic to organic being ; when she passes from vegetable to animal life ; and again, when she passes from animal to rational and spiritual life. In each case we get some- thing diflPerent, not in degree merely, but in kind ; and in stepping across these gulfs we are to notice that while we carry with us everything on the side we leave, it yet falls into subordination to the new force, which will work by its own laws, and cannot be safely rea- APPENDIX C. 367 Boned about from the old analogies. A tree is the product of a force that acts in opposition to gravitation and to all the cohesions and chemical affinities of inor- ganic matter, and he would be seeking the living among the dead who should carry the laws of inorganic being over to account for the phenomena of vegetable life. In each case, in passing over, we need a test of the presence of the new power. The test of the presence of vegetable life is organization ; of animal life it is sensation, and of rational life it is the power to choose its own end with an alternative iu kind. Reaching this point we pass out of the domain of mechanical forces acting from without, and of instinctive and impulsive forces acting from within, into a region higher and en- tirely new, of comprehension and of freedom. " Up to man," as I have said elsewhere, " everything is driven to its end by a force working from without and from behind, but for him the pillar of cloud and of fire puts itself in front, and he follows or not as he chooses." As I view it, it is only after passing this gulf that we find moral phenomena. But at this point there is a difference about the very nature of those phenomena ; and if we could always tell which side of the gulf men are on, if they would not sometimes be on one side, and sometimes on the other, and sometimes astride it, often not seeming to know where they are, it would prevent immense confusion. " Holiness," says Dr. Thornwell, "is a nature." Then, it may be created, but cannot be commanded. Where he was when he said this we cannot doubt. The same I suppose would be said, — it ought to be, — by the writer of a recent article on morals in the " Princeton Review." By this class of thinkers God is conceived of as an essence in which love and wrath inhere as qualities, and mani- fest themselves independently and necessarily ; whereas 358 APPENDIX C. others conceive of him as a person, rational and free, and as a consuming fire only because lie is love. Of these, Dr. McCosh is among the latter. He has passed this gulf. For him " moral good " (goodne.^s ?) " is a quality of certain actions proceeding from the will." Saying thus, he must, with us, develop moral phenom- ena from the point of freedom as manifested in choice. What, then, are moral phenomena? They are those revealed from a moral nature, and are immediately known as moral, as intellectual phenomena are revealed from an intellectual nature, and are immediately known as intellectual. A man and a brute are moved equally by appetite to eat; but the man can, and the brute can- not be induced to eat that which is distasteful out of regard to a higher good. Here is an alternative in kind, possible for man, impossible for the brute ; and when this is presented the moral reason comes at once into action, and affirms obligation to choose the higher good, just as natural reason affirms personal identity when the occasion arises for that. This will be re- peated, as alternatives of higher and lower good are presented, till we reach the supreme good, and then we shall have moral law, and a basis for conscience both as an impulse and as a law. Whoever will ask him- self what he means by an enlightened conscience will find the meaning and necessity of a supreme end and good. In a being willitig to come to the light the affirma- tion of obligation will be made impartially, whether the good be our own or that of another. It will be made in view of good as such, and valuable in itself, whether it be our own, or that of our fellow creatures, or of God. What then have we here ? We have, 1st, good. This is wholly from the sensibility, and is the condition for any affirmation of obligation, and of any moral idea. APPENDIX C. 359 We hare, 2d, the affirmation of obligation to choose the good. Ill tliis we find moral law. Here we find the " claim " spoken of by Dr. McCosh, what he calls the " ought," the " due," the " obligation," which it might be inferred from his review that I ignore. It is indeed strangn that in reviewing a book, one third of which is occupied in sliowing the precise origin and nature of obligation, it should be quietly taken for granted that it is ignored. I do not ignore it, but affirm it as strongly as he does ; but I do not say, as he does, that this affirmation of obligation to choose an end " is itself an ultimate end inferior to no other.' " The ought, the due, the obligation,'^ he says, " comes in along with the love, and is an ultimate end inferior to no other." This I do not say, because obligation must be obligation to choose some ultimate end, and how a man can choose as an ultimate end his obligation to choose some other ultimate end, I do not well under- stand.^ But be this as it may, this affirmation of obliga- tion is no part of virtue. It is not only not an ulti- mate end, but it cannot be an end of any kind. It is necessitated. If it were not, we should not have a moral nature. Without it man would be incapable of either virtue or vice, but it is no part of either. Through it we simply have law, that by which a man " is a law unto himself," but the question of obedience and disobedience, in which virtue and vice consist, re- mains. Having now the idea of good from the sensibility, and of obligation from the moral reason, we come to the action of the will, the man, the voluntary agent, the CAUSE, higher than any effect he can produce. It is in his power as a cause, as well as in his nature as rational and moral, that man is in the image of God ; and only as he is a cause is he either responsible oi 360 APPENDIX C. respectable. As a cause it is obvious that man may assume one of three positions in regard to good. He may choose it unselfishly and impartially for himself and all who are capable of it — that is, he may love God with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself; or he may choose his own good selfishly, regardless of that of others ; or he may be malignant, and wish to destroy good, and to cause positive misery. Taking the first of the above positions, the man ac- cepts the Law of Love as the law of his being. It is law because obligation is affirmed. It is the Law of Love because love is the thing, and the only thing com- manded. " And thus do we marry them," — " Law and Love, the two mightiest forces in the universe." The command comes with immediate and " self-evidence " of its authority, on the apprehension of good as valuable in itself to God, to our fellow-creatures, and to our- selves. Choosing thus, the man has done no outward act, and yet he has virtually done all good acts. Noth- ing remains but to carry out this choice in executive volitions, according to the circumstances and relations of life. In making this choice, and thus carrying it out, the man will fulfill obligation, will be virtuous |_ and in so doing there will be developed a sensibility of the moral nature giving a satisfaction higher than any other. This form of voluntary action would be moral goodness, and the enjoyment from it would be moral good. This is holy happiness, or happiness from holiness, or blessedness. It can come only from holiness, and is as much higher than animal enjoyment as an an- gel is higher than an animal. Becoming conscious of this, the man is fully in possession of himself, with all his possible forms of activity and their results. He knows himself now through and through, as he might know a locomotive. And now, retaining his generic choice APPENDIX C. 361 to cause good, his action must take one of two forms. He must either seek to cause good directly, or to lead others to cause it. He must seek to cause a change either in the condition or the character of men. In thus laboring to cause well being directly, and to cause it indir-ectly by laboring for holiness, man finds his true end.\ rrhus does he glorify God ; thus does he do the greatest possible good to his fellow-creatures ; thus does he find his own highest enjoyment; thus does he reveal the highest beauty, and so become an object of complacency. What more can we ask for man as ac- tive ? Let him become thoroughly subject to the Law of Love, and we ask nothing more. But what of right, and righteousness, and justice ? Nothing has been said of these. "We have now reached the point at which moral philosophies generally begin. They generally begin by inquiring about right, and obligation as from that. It will be seen from the fore- going statements what I would say of theni. Let a man adopt the Law of Love, and then seek to apply love as a law in practical life, and he will need to ask con- stantly what is right ; he will always be under obliga- tion to do it; and the doing of it will be righteousness. Then also will the idea and sense of justice be revealed; but there is no more an eternal right, or an eternal justice, independent of good and of love as possible through that, than there is an eternal tree independent of existence. Existence is the conditioning idea with- out which that of a tree could not be, and good and love are conditioning ideas without which those of right and justice could not be. A justice that should have no reference to the good of any being would not be justice, but a blind instinct. But, having its basis and conditioning idea in love, it justifies itself to itself even in becoming " indignation and wralh." These must be 362 APPENDIX C. developed from love, which thus becomes holiness, when selfishness and malignity would defeat its ends. Some- thing aiialogiius to this is seen even in instinctive love. Tlie fury of the eagle is never so greiit as when it re- veals itself as an expression of love for its young. And nothing can be so dreadful as the wrath of Infinite Goodness, not as a blind fury, but because it is Infinite Goodness. That there are what may be called ra- tional instincts and impulses connected with our moral nature, and which some have mistaken for conscience and so have become fanatics, I believe ; but I also be- lieve that there can be no law of the conscience except in the presence of the supreme good. Of this system it may be said, 1st, that it is in harmony with the Scriptures. It was a great satisfac- tion to find that the law of the Constitution was the law of the Bible. Let that be shown and we shall have an argument for the divine origin of the Bible that cannot be gainsaid. 2J, By making the idea of good the condition of obligation, or goodness, or virtue, the system shows just how that "absolute assurance" comes, " that happiness must be the accompaniment or end of holiness," which the " Princeton Review " says is " graven on man's soul." How this comes the advo- cates of an ultimate light have never attempted to show. Let them attempt it, and they will find the need of changing their system. 3d, It connects man with all that is below him, and all that is subordinate in him with that which is higher, thus bringing him int,o unity with his surroundings and with himself, and making the same law of limitation that we find in na- ture a law to him. 4th, It gives a basis out of whicii the practical part grows, so that it is not mere precept. Such is the system. We now inquire, as was pro- posed, is not this utilitarianism ? Of this there seems APPENDIX C. 363 to be a superstitious horror in some quarters, and the idea is hardly better defined than that of a ghost. Dr. McCosh says there is a truth in it, but what that truth is, as he states it, if it be not precisely my doc- trine, I am unable to make out. It is the only part of his review that puzzled me. I have supposed that utility involved a tendency to some good, and that the choosing of a thing because of its tendency to a good, or as a means of good, was a different thing from the choice of a good that is good in itself and that has nothing to do with tendency. I must think these are wholly different. But as some do not see this, I will simply say, leaving out definitions, that as objectionable, nothing can be utilitarianism that does not either op- pose self to love, or happiness to duty. To this all will agree. But so far from opposing self to love, the system is one of disinterested and impartial love — the " love of God with all the heart and of our neighbor as our- selves." It has nothing to do with means or utilities, but chooses an end for its own sake, that is, not good in the abstract, but the good of beings capable of good ; and this choice is love. It fixes on good as that, and that alone, which renders virtuous love possible. We have, then, no possible taint of utilitarianism here. Nor, again, does this system oppose happiness to duty. It affirms, with Dr. McCosh, the " self-evidence " of obligation, and that duty is to be done at all hazards. Speaking of conscience in its relation to moral law, I say ^ " From that is its power to originate the word ought, and whenever the mandate and impulse involved in that word are truly derived from the law they are to be obeyed at all hazards. It would be absurd tc fcay that anything could excuse a man from doing what he ought to do. Moral law must be supreme." Nothing 1 (Page 91 of The Law of Love.) 364 APPENDIX C. surely, can be stronger than this. There is no taint of utilitarianism here. But though the book so proclaims love and law sep- arately as to preclude utilitariauism, is il not inconsis- tent with itself, and does it not, in marrying the two, give an opportunity for this subtle and terrible enemy to slip in ? Again, No. if utilitarianism cannot be compatible with either separately, much less can it be with the two united. As I understood the contract, it was that law was so to remain law and love love, as to exclude utilitarianism. The two must be united in some way. They belong to each other by a preor- dained affinity, and the deepest laws of thought, and the necessities of moral government ; and if they can- not be united by making good from a sensibility the condition of obligation, then how ? This does, indeed, and that is one advantage of it, retain the truth which Dr. McCosh admits is in utilitarianism — just that, and nothing more. Tiie question here is not at all about un- compromising obedience or duty, when that is made known, but whether the very idea of duty is possible except through that of a good from the sensibility, and so of a possible love. The truth is, that the advocates of an ultimate right are so afraid of soiling virtue by some contact with happiness as to exclude the possibil- ity of it altogether. This Dr. McCosh seems to me to do when he speaks of obligation to love a being with- out regard to his happiness. If there may be the love of complacency without regard to happiness, there can no more be virtuous love than there can be pity with- out regard to distress. The system, then, is not one of utilitarianism. It has no tendency towards it, and nothing could be more un- founded than such a supposition. If, indeed, there be any two things more opposed to utilitarianism than law APPENDIX C. 365 and love, of which, in their true nature and relatious to each other, this system is simply an exposition, T do not know what they are. But if the system he not utilitarianism, is it not " eu- daimonisin, or the making of enjoyment the supreme end of man and of virtue ? " If we would clear this subject up fully, we must understand each other here. We must understand what is meant when it is said that there is some other good besides happiness. Looking at man in his complex nature, — as physical, intellectual, moral, spiritual, — we see that he is capa- ble of various forms of activity from without and within, and that these are accompanied with certain forms of feeling. This capacity of feeling is called the sensibility ; and the feeling may be one of pleasure or pain, of joy or of sorrow. Now we need a word which shall express unequivocally the whole range of feeling as it gives satisfaction, pleasure, joy, happiness, blessed- ness. Unfortunately we have no such word. Happi- ness is often used, but in many minds its associations are with the lower forms of enjoyment. Blessedness, which is from the moral and spiritual powers, and can be only as they act normally, will not do, because it excludes the lower forms of enjoyment. Hence the difficulty of finding any one word that will express the whole end of man ; but that that end is in ihe sensibil- ity, and so in it that witliout that the very conception of an end would he impossible, I have no doubt. To avoid ambiguity and put it in the broadest way, my statement is, " that a sensibility is the condition prece- dent of all moral ideas." Of course it must be the con- dition of all moral action. Is this denied ? To deny it would be to deny the universally received doctrine of which my position is but an instance, that there is uo action of the will except from the sensibility. Dr, 366 APPENDIX c. McCosh does, indeed, attempt to deny it, but m doing so he makes a supposition that I m.irvel at ; one indeed that looks so much like an absurdity, that if it had been made by any one else, I am not quite sure but I might have taken it for one. He puts " the case that God creates an angelic being with high intellectual endow- ments, but without sensibility," and then affirms, and founds a principle ou it, that such a being would be under obligation to be grateful to God, while yet grati- tude is a form of the sensibility, and obligation itself caimot be conceived of without it. " Si naturam furca expellas" etc. Let the advocates of an ultimate right be explicit on this point. If they say there is any good not from sensibility, let them tell us what it is. If not, let them say so, and accept the consequences. So far as I can see, no one can any more, except by a juggle of words, deny that all good is from a sensibility than he can deny his personal identity. The view presented above is said by Dr. McCosh to be a " very peculiar theory." By others it is said to be the view long held by a large class of writers. This is of little consequence. In the materials of the system there is nothing new. They are the same old ideas. So the needle and thread were the same old materi- als. But as a simple change in the manner of thread- ing the needle led to a wide range of new combinations and revolutionized a whole branch of industry, so a simple adjustment or two here, with very little that is new, may disentangle thought at this knotty point, and change our whole mode of conceiving of this subject. It remains to say something of the system held by Dr. McCosh. Dr. McCosh agrees with me in accepting the law of love as given in the Scriptures ; and also obligation as " self-afflrmed." What I venture to doubt is, whether, in holding the system he does, he is consis- tent with the Scriptures, or with himself. APPENDIX C. • 367 And here, us we are to speak of love, I must call attention to two different meanings, an "amphiboly " of that word. It may be a love of benevolence, as a man may love bis enemy, including good-will, or the willing of good ; or it may be a love of congruity, as a man may love art or poetry, in which there is no good-will. The first is virtuous love, the second is not. There is no virtuous love that is not either the willing of good to some being capable of good, or that does not, like the love of complacency, proceed directly or indirectly from that. With this in mind, and remembering that we are seeking for the ultimate thing on which the mind rests when obligation is affirmed, let us take the Law of Love as given in the Scriptures : " Thou shnlt love (he Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thy- self." Here God is presented to be loved for his own sake, and there is nothing more ultimate, tlie idea of good coming in simply as rendering love possible. The love is to he a simple primitive act in view of the object as worthy of love. But Dr. McCosh is not satisfied with this. He says, " We regard God as having a claim upon our love because it is right, and men see it to be so at once." I venture to say that men do not see it to be so at all. It may be true that men see at once that they are under obligation to love God ; it is right that they should love him ; but it is not true that they are under obligation to love him because it is right, and of course they do not see that they are. I have said that "No man is under obligation to do an act morally right for which there is not a reason be- sides its being right, and on the ground of which it is right." In accordance with this, the reason of our love to God, its ultimate ground, is the worth and worthi- ness of God, so that we do not love him because it is 368 . APPENDIX C. right, the rightiiess being as Dr. McCo-^h allows, a mere quality of our love, but because lie is worthy of our love. In the one case the last thing seen as the ground of obligation is God in his worth as capable of good, and in his worthiness as seeking to promote it ; in the other it is — right. This is an " ultimate idea," absolutely ultimate, observe, with nothing beyond it ; " an end in itself, inferior to no other, subordinate to no other." This puts right above God. We are to love God, not for his sake, but for the sake of the right; or, as was said to me recently, we are to love God because we love virtue, as if the love of God were not virtue. In the same way we are to love our fel- low-men, not for their sakes, but for the sake of the right. We are to love the right supremely, and to love God because we love the right. Nor can it be said that the love of God and of right are the same, for good-will towards an "ultimate idea " is impossible. I have seen quite enough of this abstract, hard, godless, loveless love of right and virtue, instead of the love of God and of men. It is nearly as bad on the one side as utilitarianism is on the other ; and " whether " Dr. McCosh " means it or no, whether he sees it or no, this is, in the end, the " ultimate right " principle." " This is the logical consequence, and if not drawn by him it will be drawn by others ; and the history of philosophy and theology shows that what follows logically" (ex- cept when men receive a system, as most men do this, in words only) " will follow chronologically when the system has had time to work and show its effects." Accordingly, we find that wherever this system has been fully received it has tended to fanaticism. No man can adopt right as an ultimate end with no regard to good — and if it be ultimate it must be so adopted — without this tendency ; nor can any man adopt as APPENDIX C. 369 altimate anri supreme the Scriptural Law of Love, the very nature of love making the good of being its end, and at the same time consistently adopt right as " an ultimate end," " an end in itself, superior to no other, subordinate to no other." It is to be observed, also, that the Scriptures nowhere command men to do right because it is right, but that their whole tenor is opposed to this form of teaching. But if the theory held by Dr. McCIosh be not con- sistent with the Scriptures, can he hold it, and be con- sistent with himself? I am not sure, indeed, whether Dr. McCosh has not been led to adopt and retain the system by the " amphiboly " of the cardinal words which we are obliged to use on tliis subject, such as "end," and "right," and "love," and "good." He speaks of right, and love, and obligation, and holiness, as being ultimate ends. So far as appears, there may be any number of these in his system ; nor does he seem to recognize the necessity of a supreme end, or the distinction insisted on by me, between ends as ulti- mate and supreme. But what does Dr. McCosh mean when he speaks of these — of love, for example — as an end ? Love is an act ; and we do not commonly speak of an act as an end, but as done for some end. Anything purely spontaneous, as an emotion, that may be called love, would have no moral character ; but if love be a ra- tional and moral act, as most people suppose, then it must have some object or end beyond itself, for it is difficult to see how a rational action, involving the choice of an end, can be its own end. What, again, does he mean when he speaks of right as an end ? What is right ? Is it, as some say, some- thing out of the mind, having an independent exist- ence, like space ? That Dr. McCosh denies. Is it the U 370 APPENDIX C. quality of an action ? Most men tliink so. But the moral quality of an action can exif-t only in view of the end to be chosen, and therefore cannot be that end. Is right, as I suppose it is, equivaleut to the " recti- tude " of the " Princeton E«view " ? ^ Then it is " a simple quality" — " undefinable," "absolute," "eternal," "unchangeable" — having itself for its own standard ; as high as God, for there can be "nothing higher," as pure as God, for there can be " nothing purer," as authoritative as God, for there can be " notliing more authoritative." " It is underived," '• ultimate," " supreme," " elementary," " uncompounded." Yes ; a " simple quality " is elementary and uncompounded ! and yet it is not simple, for " it carries in itself the idea of obligation." This same "simple quality" is, moreover, " moral goodness," and " is the original supreme excellence of God and all moral creatures.'' Whether this " simple quality " originally inhered in God's essence or in his acts, we are not told, though we should be glad to know. Probably in both, for we are told that it is both " in man's soul, and in its acts." Is it tliis " simple quality," thus simplified and made per- fectly intelligible, the doctrine of which " may be called the catholic Christian doctrine of the ultimate moral idea,'' that Dr. McCosh would make an end ? If s*), I have nothing to say ; for a simple quality capable of all that is thus attributed to this, may doubtless become an end, or, at least, I should be unwilling to say what it may not become, whether an end or an elephant. Prob- ably this is the very quality spoken of by the Teutonic theosopber, quoted by Campbell, when he announces that " all the voices of the celestial joyfulness qualify, commix, and harmonize in the fire that was from etermty in the good quality." Take again obligation, to which I have already re- 1 See p. 1S2. APPENDIX C. 371 ferred. There may be obligation to choose an end, but as I understand it, obligHtion itself cannot be an end. And yet Dr. McCosh says that it is an " ultimate end, inferior to no other." Obligation an ultimate end ! And one, too, not inferior to the good of God and his uni- verse ! There must lurk here somewhere — and the public must judge where — that " confusion of idea into which," lis Dr. McCosh says, " we are apt to fall when we speak or think of ultimate ideas or ends." But again : take love in the two meanings explained above, and the confusions from it are endless. What do the advocates of the ultimate right theory mean by the love of right, and of the right ? A virtuous love ? I suppose so. If a man is to do riglit because it is right, which is what Dr. McCosh would call virtue, it must be be- cause he loves the right, else there is a virtue without love, which neither Dr. McCosh nor the Bible allow. But is the love of right, or of the right, or of virtue, virtuous love ? No ; because neither right nor virtue can be ob- jects of good-will. There is no willing of good to them, and so no more virtue in loving them than in loving poetry, except as such love may imply a previous love that did involve good-will. But perhaps the most misleading ambiguity of all, is that of '' good " as derived — sometimes from the sensi- bility and meaning enjoyment, and sometimes from the will and meaning goodness. Of this, however, I have spoken so fully in the work reviewed, that I will not dwell on it here. On other points I should be glad to touch, particularly those of cause and law. But enough has been said. For the first time in my life I have noticed what has been said of my writings. If I have spoken plainly, it is not in a spirit of controversy, for I have no little fort to de- fend, but with a desire to aid Dr. McCosh in his evident 372 APPENDIX C. purpose of awakening a more general interest in this great subject, and to add my mite towai'd the displace- ment, sure to come, of a traditional philosophy based on the inadequate and radically false method of construct- ing a system of conduct on a purely abstract idea. Williams College, May 1, 1869. ANSWER TO REV. DR. HOPKINS. BT JAMES MoCOSH, D. D., LL. D. Dk. Hopkins's letter is worthy of the man, in respect both of the ability and the kindly spirit displayed in it. No evil can arise from a controversy so conducted. On the contrary, I expect good to spring from it. It bears on a question second to no other in philosophy, and it admits of applications to the justice of God, the punish- ment of sinners, and the atonement for sin. But we, the controversialists, must, for our own sake and that of our hearers, take care that we keep the point at issue clearly before us. It is a very simple one : What is the chief end of man ? Is it or is it not some form of pleasure, happiness or enjoyment ? With much that Dr. Hopkins has said I concur. I agree with what he says as to the importance of looking to ends in determining -what " good " is. This has been done more or less by moralists since the days of Aristotle, who begins his Nicomachean Ethics with an inquiry into ends, and has teen followed by the Stoics, and by Cicero in his treatise De Finihus. The question is, What is the end and the supreme end of man ? Again Dr. Hopkins and I are agreed as to the manner in which tMs question is to be settled ; that is, by an inquiry into our moral nature — in the manner of Bishop Butler. The APPENDIX C. 373 question here is, What saith our moral nature as to the final aim of man ? Dr. Hopkins's answer to the ques- tion is stated clearly in a passage which I have quoted before, and which I must quote again. What then is the ultimate end according to our author? He says it is " the good." But what is the good ? He answers,^ — " An objective good is aiiytliing so correlated to a conscious being as to produce subjective good. Subjec- tive good is some form of enjoyment or satisfaction in the consciousness." He tells us that " strictly there is no good that is not subjective." In his review in the " Observer " he says there is " a difficulty of finding any one word that will express tlie whole end of man ; but that end is in the sensibility." " The capacity of feeling is called the sensibility, and the feeling may be one of pleasure or pain, of joy or of sorrow." This is the point at which we come into collision. My remarks will be confined to it. We are agreed as to the way in which the point is to be settled. It is by an appeal to our moral nature. To that moral nature I appeal with confidence, as deciding in my behalf. An intelligent being receives favors from God ; say lofty reason, fine fancy, rich emotions, and a capacity of distinguishing between right and wrong. What is the affection which he should cherish towai'd this his benefactor ? Our moral nature replies on the instant, — gratitude and love. And we do not require to consider whether this gratitude adds to the enjoyment of God or the enjoyment of him who cherishes it. It is the same with moral evil as with moral good. Ten lepers are healed by our Lord. Nine of them give him no thanks. In condemning their conduct we do not stop to inquire whether it is fitted to give pain to the .sensi- bility of the Saviour or their own. On the bare con- templation of 'he act we declare it to be evil. The act 1 Page 51. 374 APPENDIX C. is not wicked because it grates on the sensibility of the Saviour, or is fitted to inflict sorrow on those guilty of it. On the contrary, it offends our Lord and is fitted to bring down judgments on the offending parties because it is evil. Dr. Hopkins is shut up to this conclusion by his own statements. Enjoyment is represented by him as the end of moral action. But what enjoyment? Enjoy- ment as enjoyment? Every kind of enjoyment? En- joyment of passion, of sensual pleasure ? No, says Dr. Hopkins ; only enjoyment of a certain kind. He says expressly that good does not consist in happiness but " a holy happiness," " happiness from holiness,'' " it can come only from holiness." Does not this show clearly that in the moral end holiness requires to be looked at with the happiness ? Does it not prove that there is a higher end than enjoyment, and to which enjoyment must give way because enjoyment is the inferior ? With- out contradiction, it is the less that yields to the greater,, and happiness, as the lower, must give place when holi- ness requires it. Holiness, then, and not mere happiness, thus comes to be the higher, the supreme end. It cannot be proven by an appeal to our moral na- ture that sensibility is a necessary condition of virtue. I acknowledge that it is presupposed in the exercise of certain virtues. It is our duty, so far as within us lies, to promote the general happiness — this is the truth in utilitarianism ; but ii i-i a truth which embraces more than mere sensibility — it embraces " duty " as well as happiness. Again, it is true that one ground of our re- garding God as good is, that he delights in the happineps of his creatures ; another reason always being that he delights in their holiness. All this shows that whUe man should look to pleasure and pain, he should also look to something higher. The brutes have no other APPENDIX a 375 end than enjoyment. But as nature rises — as Dr Hopkins shows in one of the fine passages of his paper — from lower to higher, from inorganic to organic from phmt to animal, and from irresponsible animal t< responsible, so the end of each being rises in the sam way ; the end of the organic is higher than that of the inorganic ; tlie end of man is higher than tliat of the brute. Moral and accountable man is bound, wliile he does not overlook enjoyment, to look beyond to the law- fulness or unlawfuhiess of the enjoyment as determined by moral law. Moral good does not consist in any case in the promotion of mere enjoyment, such as may be accomplished by a fine piece of furniture, a fine flower, or a fine animal, but by something different and higher, by the love which knowingly contemplates and promotes the enjoyment. Nor does it consist in every sort of love, but in love that is due and right. As we mount up in this way, we rise to the contemplation of a love, and a holiness, and a justice above all gratification of the sen- sibility. We clothe the Divine Being with these per- fections, and we believe that in the exercise of them he will regard the happiness of his creatures ; but that he will also, and for a higher end, promote their love and thek holiness. Dr. Hopkins is still perplexed with the difficulty, — " The moral quality of an action can exist only in view of the end to be chosen, and, therefore, cannot be that end." I endeavored to remove that difficulty in my review, and I must try to do it again in a few words. The difficulty arises entirely from a misapprehension of the nature of the first truths of the intellect, and of the ultimate ends of our moral constitution. The reason of first truths is to be found, not in anything out of themselves, but in themselves and the objects contemplated. We are sure that two straight lines cannot inclose a space, not because 376 APPENDIX C. we can give any reason for it out of ilie things and out of ourselves, but because in contemplating two straight lines, we see that they are such in their nature that they cannot inclose a space. So it is with final moral ends — ends iu themselves. When we love God in such a «ay as to constitute this a moral act, we see that there is an ob- ligation in the very act ; and this not our own enjoyment, or that of God, but because the act is right in itseU'. He says, " If love be a rational and moral act, as most people suppose, then it must have some object or end be- yond itself, for it is difficult to see how a rational action, involving the choice of an end, can be its own end." But does not Dr. Hopkins see that in affirming our own existence and identity, which is a rational act, we have reason not " beyond," but in the thing ? In like man- ner, when we love God, we are made to feel that this is due to God. Dr. Hopkins acknowledges everywhere — which the Utilitarians do not — the existence of moral reason, deciding what ought to be done. His confusion arises from his not giving that moral reason the right place. He makes it, as I understand him, come after the end, after the end has been chosen. The correct statement is that the moral reason is implied in the very choice of the virtuous end. He says, " The affirmation of obligation is no part of virtue." The abstract affir- mation may not, but the intuitive concrete conviction is. We love God, not as being a mere sensitive en- joyment to ourselves, or as adding to the enjoyment of God, but as fit, proper, and due. Dr. Hopkins has hit the truth for once, when he says, " The love is to be a simple primitive act in view of the object as worthy of love." • This seems to me to be the correct expression. " The love is a primitive act in view of the object ; " he adds, "as \vorthy of love ; " and I say, the worthiness is proclaimed by the moral reason " in view APPENDIX C. 377 of the object," and has a place in the motive leading us to perform the act. This is the element wliich dis- tinguishes a virtuous love from other love which may not be virtuous, which may be positively sinful. I am surprised to find Dr. Hopkins laying tbat " the Sonptiires nowhere command nieu to do right because it id right, but that their whole tenor is opposed to this form of teaching." Does not Paul say (Eph. vi. 1), " Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right " — just, due ? And is not the whole teuor of Scripture on this wise : " Love God, obey his command- ments, for this is right ? " The question at issue has many applications. John Foster, in a well-known letter, proceeding on the doc- trine that it is the highest end of God and man to pro- mote happiness, argues with immense power that there cannot be eternal punishment under the government of God. 1 am obliged to say that if I grant his premises, 1 cannot avoid his conclusion. I can stand up for eternal separation of the wicked from God only on the principle that ingratitude, that ungodliness, are sins in themselves, and ought to be punished. I have not before me the means of ascertaining Dr. Hopkins's view of the nature of the atonement. I hold that in the Divine nature there is an essential justice which leads Him not only to promote enjoyment, but punish sin. I hold that the atonement has a reference not merely to the general happiness of mankind, but the holy perfections of God, and that Christ's sufferings were a real substitution and a satisfaction to Divine justice. It is only thus I can understand the strong language employed everywhere in Scripture about Jesus suffering and dying in our room and stead. I mention these things merely to show that this discussion has extensive bear- ings, but I believe it would weary the readers of a popu' lar newspaper to dwell on it. 378 APPENDIX C. And so I must conclude by saying that I do not be- lieve that Dr. Hopkins has been able to buUd a half- way house, likely to stand, between the two contending armies. Our author has evidently a great aversion to utilitarianism. But if the end of virtue be enjoyment, everything must be subordinate to it, and we are landed logically, whether we see it or no, in the greatest hap- piness theory. We can avoid this only by falling back on that moral reason which Dr. Hopkins acknowledges, and by giving it, which Dr. Hopkins does not, a place in determining the supreme end, which we will then see, not to be mere happiness, but holiness. Fbincbion, June 14, 1869. DE. HOPKINS'S REJOINDER TO DR. McCOSH. The subject of discussion between Dr. McCosh and myself not being of transient interest, I have not been in haste to reply to his second papei'. I do it now, not as thinking my positions endangered, but in the interest of a subject too much neglected. Literally and figura- tively, deep ploughing is good husbandry. Only as the community shall be pervaded by a deeper knowledge of nature, and especially of man, can the best fruits of liv- ing be expected. " The point at issue," says Dr. McCosh, " is a very simple one — What is the chief end of man ? " I had supposed it to be, What is the foundation of obliga- tion ? but accept this, since he prefers it. I am indeed pleased that he is so far a convert to the doctrine of ends as to be willing to substitute an end to be chosen for the abstract idea of right. ■ Eegarding man only as active, the science of morals requires this ; but it will be fatal to his system. APPENDIX C. 379 But, simple or not in the point it makes, the above question underlies practical philosophy. This is coming to be more and more recognized. The difficulty with the French was said by Jouffroy to be that they did not know what the end of man is ; and in the last number of the " North British Review " there is an article hav- ing this for its title and subject, in which it is said that ■' The theoretical solution of this question would be the answer to a fundamental problem in ethics ; its practi- cal realization would be the ideal of a perfect life." What the end of man is, Dr. McCosh says, is to be ?ettled " by an inquiry into our moral nature, in the manner of Bishop Butler. The question here is, What saith our moral nature as to the final aim of man ? " lu this I regret not to agree with Dr. McCosh, especially as he says I do. As rational, we have the power to overlook and comprehend our whole being as we would a locomotive, and I suppose the question must be de- cided by our doing this. It must, if it is to be decided by philosophy at all. This is not to be done by the moral nature alone. On the contrary, that nature is to be compared with the other parts of oiir complex being, the proper functions and relations of each are to be de- termined, and thus the end of the whole. This was " the manner of Bishop Butler." Making this comparison, he says, as quoted in " The Law of Love," ^ " It may be allowed, without any prejudice to the cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and misery are, of all our ideas, the nearest and most important to us ; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought to prevail over those of order, and beauty, and harmony, and proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossi- ble there ever should be, any inconsistence between them." Here we have the highest English authority in morals not only making the comparison I advocate, but 1 Page 117. 880 APPENDIX C. affirming that our ideas of happiness and misery ars nearer and more important to us than any others, and fo than that of holiness itself, which Dr. McCosh makes supreme. Butler, however, and I agree with him, does not, like Dr. McCosh, — who says that " happiness must give place where holiness requires it," — allow that there can be an " inconsistence " between holiness and happi- ness. He believed in a deep harmony of the constitu- tion, insuring the harmony of the two ; and that harmony is in the fact that " a sensibility," and so the possible en- joyment and suffering of some being, " is the condition precedent of all moral ideas." Nor, I may remark here, is Butler alone among those of the intuitional school in his estimate of happiness in its relation to virtue. Whewell, who has stood shoulder to shoulder with Dr. McCosh in opposing Mill, says, " Happiness is the object of human action in its most general form as including all other objects, and approved by reason." Edwards says,^ ■' Agreeable to this the ffood of men is spoken of as an ultimate end of the virtue of the moral world;" and quotes Scripture to prove it. And Robert Hall himself, in opposing Edwards, siiys, " Let it be remembered we have no dispute respecting what is the ultimate end of virtue, which is allowed on botli sides to be the greatest sum of happiness in the universe." But, authority aside, if we compare the different con- stituents of our being, we find that the end of the intel- lect is to know ; of the sensibility, to feel ; and of the will, to choose and act. As rational, we can feel only as we know, and can choose and act only as ends are presented through the sensibility. If we suppose the sensibility excluded, the conception even of an end ia impossible. Aside from the products of this, nothing can be a good, or have value. Except as we and others 1 See 6tli page of God's Chief End. APPENDIX C. 381 are possessed of this, neitlier love, nor hatred, nor obliga- tion, nor right, nor wrong, nor virtue, nor vice, is possi- ble. Finding thus the end in tlie sensibility, so far at least that without that there can be no end, I accept the statement of the Westminster divines that " The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever." If any inquire how this is to be done, I reply that it is to be done by knowing, loving, and obeying God. This is the whole of religion, and the whole duty of man. It may all be comprised in loving God, since to be loved, he must be known ; and if loved, he will be obeyed. This brings into requisition ihe intellect, the sensibility, and the will ; and from the right action of these, with God for their object, there must be an enjoy uent of him forever. Anything involving this T accept, and nothing short of it. I cannot. I do not wish to exclude from my conception of the end of man that '• fullness of joy " which is in the presence of God, and those •• pleas- ures which are at his right hand forevermore." But while I accept the above statement, perhaps a plainer one may be, that the chief end of man is "lo promote blessedness impartially and in the highest degree." Blessedness, then, is the supreme end — the blessedness of God and of his rational universe ; and that form of activity by which this is chosen and voluntarily caused, is holiness. Having thus stated my views positively, and I hope clearly, in this aspect of the subject, I proceed to some positions of Dr. McCosh in his second letter to which I do not assent. The first in logical order is, that there may be vir- tue without sensibility. Strange as it may seem. Dr. McCosh reaffirms this position. •' It cannot," he says, " be proven by an appeal to our moral nature " — and of cotirse he means that it cannot be proved at all — " that 382 APPENDIX C. sensibility is a necessary condition of virtue." " I ac- knowledge," he continues, " that it is presupposed in the exercise of certain virtues." Indeed ! Then have we need of a new division of the virtues into those that can, and those that cannot exist without sensibility. And this is said by Dr. McCosh while he allows that all vir- tue may be included in love ! It would be interesting to hear him give the constituents of a love that has no sensibility. It would be interesting to hear him enu- merate those virtues that presuppose no feeling, or power of feeling, either in those who exercise them, or those toward whom they are exercised. I would not be too positive here ; but through what medium, or from what angle, Dr. McCosh can be looking when he speaks of such virtues, I cannot conjecture. For myself, I am free to say that I have no conception of any such virtue, and must venture humbly to question whether any one else either has or can have. The second position of Dr. McCosh that I would call in question is, that " holiness is the supreme end." As stated above, holiness is that form of voluntary activily by which blessedness is chosen and intentionally caused. The objection to making this the supreme end is, that it makes the activity its own end. If holiness be the su- preme end, and holiness or virtue consists in choosing the supreme end, then holiness must consist in choosing holiness. This difficulty must always arise when any form of activity of the will, and so of virtue, is made the ultimate end. Rational activity can never be for the sake of the activity itself, but must always be for the sake of some result of the activily ; for some good, satis- faction, enjoyment, blessedness, — either of the being acting, or of some other being. The activity is virtue, the result is blessedness. The virtue is from the will, the blessedness from the sensibility. APPENDIX C. 383 Another position from which I dissent, if indeed it bo another, is, that the moral quality of an action can be its end ; or that the quality of an action may be the ground of obligation to do that action. It is said in the " Law of Love " to be plain that this cannot be. Dr. McCosh and others say it is plain it can be ; and it is in conceiv- ing how it can be, that the difficulty arises with which " Dr. Hopkins is still perplexed," and I fear always will be. But how is this in other cases ? Can the bravery or tlie generosity of an act be the reason for doing it ? Yes, if it be done ostentatiously ; but no true man ever did a brave act because it was brave, or a generous act because it was generous. But for an underlying sensi- bility, the idea of bravery would be impossible ; and if the exposure to danger, in which the bravery consists, were not for an end beyond the exposure itself, it would be mere ostentation and fool-hardiness. It is the same with generosity. Both are praiseworthy and pleasing, and men may be so exhorted to cultivate them for their own sakes as to think them ultimate ; but the qualities themselves are possible only on the ground of interests lying beyond themselves, and can never be the chief legitimate motive for those actions in which they inhere. But if right and holiness be allowed to be the qualities of actions, no reason is seen why the same is not true of them. A man loves his enemy. This he does, not from any worthiness in him, but because of his worth as having capacity for good. In view of this he subdues his resentment, and makes sacrifices for the good of his enemy as he would for his own. This is a riglit and holy act. Is it done because it is so, or does it become so from the end for which it is done ? The questions answer themselves. Dr. McCosh says my difficulty " arises entirely from 384 APPENDIX C. a misapprehension of the nature of the first truths of the intellect, and of the ultimate ends of the moral constitu- tion.'' " The reason of first truths," he adds, " is to be found, not in anything out of themselves, but in them- selves and the objects contemplated." " Does not Dr, Hopkins," he asks triumphantly, " see that in afiirming our own existence and identity, which is a rational act, we have the reason, not beyond, but in the thing ? " Tes ; and admitting the parallelism here assumed, does not Dr. McCosh see that it makes against him? The reason for afiirming the truth is not in the act afiirm- ing it, or in any quality of the act, but " in the objects contemplated ; " it should follow, therefore, that the rea- son for choosing an end is found, not in the act of choos- ing, or in any quality of the act, but in the end ; and that is just what I say. But I do not admit the paral- lelism. It seems to me that the processes of the mind, in dealing with first truths where there is no choice, and with ends where there is, are wholly different. With what he says of first truths I agree ; but the moment he passes to ends, I seem to find confusion both in the thought and in the language. " So," he says, "it is with final moral ends — ends in themselves. When we love God in such a way as to constitute this a moral act, we see that there is an obligation in the very act ; and that not our own enjoyment, or that of God, but because it is right in itself." Concerning this extraordinary passage, which contains the gist of what he says, I in- quire, 1st. Whether any " final " end be not an end in itself, whether moral or not? 2d. Whether a " moral" end means anything more than an end that we are under obligation to choose? 3d. Whether it be pos- sible to love God so that it shall not be a moral act ? And 4th. Whether Dr. McCosh means to say that we do not see that there is an obligation to love God before AFPEKDIX C. 385 we love him ? His language implies this. He eajs, " When we love him, we see that there is an obligation in the very act." If it be " in the very act," it could not exist before that, and so a man who had never loved God could be under no obligation to love him. This consequence must follow every attempt to make, as Dr. McCosh does, obligation, or the sense of it, a part of virtue. The obligation is " not our own enjoyment, or that of God ; " but it may be affirmed in view of the capacity of God and of other beings for enjoyment, and not because " it is right in itself," aside from all relation to enjoyment ; and this I suppose to be the truth. I suppose the moral reason afiSrrns obligation to choose, not goodness, but good as good in itself. This, I sup- pose, is ultimate, and that a reason for every right act may be found in its relation to this ultimate good. And here I must notice a misapprehension of Dr. McCosh respecting the place assigned by me to the moral reason. He says my "confusion arises from making the moral reason come after the end, after the end has been chosen." I not only do not do this, but it never occurred to me as possible that any one should. As I understand it, the moral reason has a place in determining the supreme end by affirming obligation to choose it, but it is no part of the end ; nor is the ob- ligation a part of the act or choice. The choice, the love, I make " to be a simple primitive act in view of the object as worthy of love." In this. Dr. McCosh is so obliging as to say that I have " hit the truth for once ; " and yet he says that " the intuitive, concrete conviction of obligation " is a part of the love, thus mak- ing it complex. Certainly I recognize the love as " fit, proper, and due ; " but I also say that the love itself is impossible, except through a capacity for enjoyment. This makes " a sensibility the condition precedent of all 25 386 APPENDIX C. moral ideas," and is fatal to the theory of an eternal right, or that anything is right in itself apart from all relation to enjoyment. On the Scriptural question, I have only to repeat what I liave already said. The passage quoted by Dr. McCosh is the only one in the Bible that seems to say that we are " to do right because it is right ; " but that does not say it, and scarcely seems to. If it said that, no further question could be asked. The theory of morals would be settled. What it does say is, that children should obey their parents because it is right, and that leaves the question, Why is it right to obey parents ? whei'e it was before. I " am surprised " that Dr. McCosh should think this a text in point. It is, indeed, worthy of notice how little is said of " right " in the New Testament. The word is used but thirteen times in all, and only ten times as an adjective. Of these, the word Slkmov, translated right in the passage quoted, is used but five times ; the proper meaning of it is not right, as that term is used in this discussion, but just ; and in no other case can it be tortured into a support of the theory of Dr. McCosh. Of " the whole tenor of the Scripture " on this point, I am content that any one should judge, as between Dr. McCosh and myself, who has not a theory to support. Our Saviour opened the Sermon on the Mount, and every beatitude, by speaking of blessedness. In the same connection, he spoke of the " great reward in heaven." The general doctrine of the Scriptures is, that men shall be rewarded according to their works. The " good and faithful servant " is to enter into the joy of his Lord. Tlie righteous are to inherit eternal life, and the wicked to go into " everlasting punishment." It was for the "joy that was set before Him that the Saviour himself endured the cross, despising the shame." APPENDIX C. 887 Dr. McCosh refers to the theological bearings of the point in question. Those I might discuss if there were Bpace and a call for it ; but there is neither. Let the question be decided on its merits. That is the only fair way ; and to aid our readers in doing that has been my endeavor in the preceding discussion. Mark Hopkins. WnxiAMs College, July 24, 1869. DR. MoCOSH'S SUMMATION or THB COI7TROTESSY BETWEEN HIM AND DB. HOFEIHg. The discussion between Dr. Hopkins and myself must sooner or later come to an end, and I do not see why it should not now close. I fear the readers of the " Observer " will complain if we protract it much longer. We have both had an opportunity of stating our views, and the public must judge for themselves. Intelligent readers have already before tliem the means of coming to a decision, and will not thank us for falling, as we might be tempted to do, into miserable wrangling. I am in this paper to take up no new topic. I am simply to sum up what I believe to be the substance of the dis- pute. (1.) Dr. Hopkins tells us, in language which cannot be too often quoted, that the final end of man is " some form of enjoyment or satisfaction in the consciousness." "That end," he says, is "in the sensibility,'' and "the capacity of feeling is called the sensibility, and the feel- ing may be one of pleasure or pain, of joy or of sorrow." He says in his last paper, " If we suppose the sensibility excluded, the conception even of an end is impossible." Now this is the point which I controvert. I maintain that 388 APPENDIX C. we ought to look to something higher, and that all truly good action has a higher reference. I have to complaijl that in explaining and defending his peculiar theory, Dr. Hopkins changes " form of enjoyment " and " sen- sibility " into " good " and " blessedness." In this way I believe he ^deceives himself, and would hide from others the sensational character of his system. If by " good " is meant " moral good," I agree with him ; but then it is a departure from his fundamental principle, — that man's end is some form of enjoyment. He is able to give his theory a plausible appearance and a lofty moral tone only by passing from the one to the other. If we substitute for " the good," wherever it occurs, " the feeling of pleasure and pain," we see how bare and earthly the system is. In his last paper, he tells us that "blessedness is the supreme end." This sounds well, and if it be properly explained, the view is correct. But the " blessedness " which has thus come in surrepti- tiously in the defense of his theory is not the same as " the enjoyment " of his primary principle. There may be an " enjoyment in consciousness " which is not blessed- ness ; and there is a blessedness which is not enjoyment, as when a man suffers pain and reproach in a good cause. He speaks of the supreme end being " blessed- ness, the blessedness of God and of his rational uni- verse." Substitute for " blessedness " " sensitive enjoy- ment," the sensitive enjoyment of God, and the doctrine jars upon us offensively. Surely the supreme end of man is not to promote the enjoyment of God. I insist, then, that he stick to the one or other, either the enjoy- ment or the blessedness. If he adhere to the enjoy- ment, his theory becomes the utilitarianism which ho repudiates. If he insist on bringing in blessedness, he has introduced, whether he sees it or no, a new and fer- ther element, and is driven, logically, to a very, different APPENDIX C. 389 theory. Whichever horn he takes, he is in difficulties in this middle position which he has chosen to occupy. When, our Lord says, '* Blessed are they who mourn," he includes vastly more than mere sensitive enjoyment. If Dr. Hopkins means by " blessedness " a " holy enjoy- ment," I believe that this is a supreme end ; but it is so because holiness is a constituent. (2.) I am sorry to find that he and I do not agree, as I thought at one time that we did, a& to the way of set- tling the question between us. As a question of mental philosophy, I presumed that it was to be determined by an inquiry into our mental and moral nature. It turns out that Dr. Hopkins does not admit this. I am not sure what is the way in which he would settle it. He says, " As rational, we have the power to overlook and comprehend our whole being as we would a locomotive, and I suppose the question must be decided by our do- ing this." I accept his illustration. We determine the end of a locomotive by looking at its structure and its relation to other things in the uses to which it is turned. It is thus we are to determine the end of man's existence, as a question in philosophy. We look at man's nature, especially his higher nature, his moral nature, his moral I'eason, or conscience ; and we find it to declare that there is something higher than mere enjoyment, and to which enjoyment should be subordinated, if the two come in collision. I am sorry to find him, in his last paper, falling into the omission of Professor Bain, and of the sensational and utilitarian school generally, and rep resenting the original constituents of man's end to be " intellect to know, sensibility to feel, and will to choose and act." In doing so, he has left out as an independ- ent element the Moral Power, Moral Keason, or Con- science, which, looking to an action, declares it to be good or evil, to be chosen and done as being good, or to 890 APPENDIX C. be avoided as being evil. This moral power in mao declares, if we listen to it, that there is a higher end than the mere securing or promoting of enjoyment, and that this is an end which man should set before him. I am amazed to find him declaring that, apart from sensi- bility, " the conception of an end is impossible." The Moral Faculty points to a higher end, and it is easy to form a conception of it. I hold, then, that our moral nature settles the question in my favor, and I do not al- low a loose appeal to any supposed " rational " or " over- looking " or " comprehending " power capable of deter- mining the question without looking at the decisions of conscience. (3.) He gives a place to the Moral Reason, but it is not, 1 think, the proper place — it is a confused place. He tells us that " Moral Reason has a place in deter- mining the supreme end by affirming the obligation to choose it, but is no part in the end." In discussing this subject, he puts a number of questions to me which I could easily answer, but the questions and the answers would only conduct us into a miserable chop-logic no way fitted to lead to a solution. Whenever the Moral Reason looks at a moral act, — say justice, or love to God, or love to man, — it declares it to be binding. It declares it to be so beforehand and behindhand, as Dr. Hopkins seems to admit. But I go a step further, and affirm that the moral power declares the act to be good at the very time we do it ; that is, cherish the affection, or do the deed that is virtuous. I hold that not only be- fore we love God and after we love God, but when we love God, we see that there is obligation in the act. This makes the sense of duty to enter into the virtuous act and to become part of the end. This does not make the act complex, any more than water is complex, as containing two elements — oxygen and hydrogen ; any APPENDIX C. 891 more than any other actual state of the mind ig com- plex — all operations of the mind being concrete. Upon my statement that when we love God, we see that there is an obligation in the very act, he comments in a way scarcely worthy of him : " If it be in the very act, it could not exist before that, and so a man who had never loved God, could be under no obligation to love him." Surely a thing may be in the act, and yet exist before the act. The truth is, that if the obligation did not already exist, man could not see it by the Moral Reason. As the obligation exists, the Moral Reason may per- ceive it beforehand and behindhand, but also in the very act. (4.) On another • important point we differ. He de- nies, and I affirm, that the quality of an action may be the ground of an obligation to do that action. When I affirm this, I do not mean that an abstraction is the ground of obligation, but that the concrete action is good as possessing that quality — that is, is done because it is right. This, I think, can easily be decided. I am tempted, let me suppose, to tell a lie, to say that I did not commit an act which I did commit. But in looking at and considering the act thus suggested, I see that it is evil in itself, and I decline doing it. It is clear to me that in such a case we are led to refuse to do the deed because of the sinful quality of the act, and not because we look to some form of enjoyment. It is the same with injustice, with ingratitude, and other sins. I avoid them, or should avoid them, not simply because they may deprive me or others of enjoyment, but because they are inherently evil. It is in the same way that we are led, or should be led, to do a good act, say to cherish gratitude or godliness: we see 'the essential excellence of the affections. Even in love the same element enters when the feeling rises to the rank of a virtue ; for all 392 APPENDIX C. love is not virtuous. We have to distinguish between a holy love and an unholy ; and a holy love, fay love to God or love to man, is cherished as being right, proper, due, and not from any enjoyment to be thus de- rived by God or by ourselves. (5.) I allow that in many virtues, pleasure and pain enter into our view. We are bound as much as within us lies to promote the happiness of all beings capable of joy or of sorrow. But even here, let it be observed, a moral element enters : we are hound to do this. All our higher moralists maintain that justice, which looks to what is right in itself, is a virtue quite as much as be- nevolence is. Dr. Hopkins argues that in loving God we do so " in the view of the capacity of God and other beings for enjoyment." I am not prepared to uphold such a statement ; for my moral nature, as interpreted by my consciousness, does not seem to me to sanction it. We love God as being our Creator and Benefactor, and as possessed of all perfection. I am not to enter on new subjects, and so will not review the statement which he gives of the doctrines of certain philosophers. It could easily be shown that neither Butler nor Edwards lend any sanction to the very peculiar ethical theory of Dr. Hopkins. I need to touch only on one other point. (6.) The Bible happily is not a metaphysical work, and I am not very willing to use its simple statements to settle philosophic questions. But it seems to me that the Word of God, in its spirit and its letter, opposes that theory which makes man's highest end to be enjoyment. Everywhere God is represented as a Being of whose character holiness is as essential an attribute as even benevolence. Sin is spoken of as an evil in itself, and 'equiring atonement to be made for it. We are taught to do this, and avoid that, not merely that we may APPENDIX C. avoid sensitive pain, and gain sensitive enjoyment, but because God has commanded it, and because we are bound to obey God. Our chief end is to glorify God, and in this, and under this, enjoy Him forever. I began this discussion with a profound veneration for the character and abilities of Dr. Hopkins, and I close it with the same sentiment. Pbihckton, N. J., Sept. 13, 1869. REV. DR. HOPKINS'S CONCLUSION. Dh. McCosh thinks it time the discussion between him and myself should close. I agree with him. He says, " We have both had an opportunity of stating our views," and that "intelligent readers have already be- fore them the means of coming to a decision." So I thought, and was content. Hence anything further, and especially a rediscussion of the whole matter in the form of a summing up, was unexpected by me. Under these circumstances it is with reluctance that I say a word more ; but from his fame and position the words of Dr. McCosh fall with weight, and I am unwilling that some statements and representations in his last paper should pass without notice. On the first point taken up by Dr. McCosh, I am happy to say that, in my opinion, we are more nearly agreed than he seems to suppose. I cannot but think that much of our seeming difference arises from the different meaning we give to the word "sensibility," and hence to "blessedness." By the sensibility, I mean, in common, as I suppose, with philosophers gen- erally, the capacity of feeling in its whole range, as re- vealed, not only through the activity of the senses, but 894 APPENDIX C. of every mental and moral power ; and did not suepeci the possibility of my being supposed to mean anything else. According to this, blessedness would be a form of enjoyment, and, except in and through the sensibil- ity, would be impossible. But Dr. McCosh cannot mean this, for he says " there is a blessedness which is not enjoyment," and calls ou me to " stick to the one or the other." He says that if I adhere to enjoyment, my theory becomes utilitarianism ; if I insist on bring- ing in blessedness, I introduce a new element, whether I see it or not : and so he makes two horns of a dilem- ma where I see no horn at all. He says that the end of man is not in the sensibility, and yet says that " blessedness," " properly explained," " is the supreme end." He says that "holy enjoyment is a supreme end," — that is, the supreme end, for there can be but one. But this is precisely what I have said from the beginning,^ and whoever says this, explain it as he may, must agree with me substantially in my whole theory, " whether he sees it or not." I congratulate Dr. McCosh, or rather myself, on his coming to this result ; but what meaning he can attach to the word " sensibility " in his process of doing so, is inscrutable to me. With the above meaning, I still say that " if we suppose the sensibility excluded, the conception even, of an end is impossible ; " and I cannot but think that my readers, and even Dr. McCosh will agree with me. As I have said from the first, a being with no capac- ity of feeling of any kind not only could form no con- ception of an end, but would lack the very condition that would enable him to form moral ideas or to form- ulate a moral law. Under his second head, again, I think we should be substantially agreed but for the same difficulty. Dr McCosh accepts my illustration of the mode in which 1 See Moral Science, lect. viii. APPE^fDIX c. 895 the question between us is to be settled. He says, " "We determine the end of a locomotive by looking at its structure and its relation to other things in the uses to which it is put. It is thus that we are to determine the end of man's existence as a question of philosophy." This is just what 1 say; and also that it (bllows that as we do not determine the end of a locomotive by inquiring " what saith our moral natuie," so neither do we determine thus the end of man ; whereas Dr. Mc- Cosh says, after saying what I have quoted above, that the end of man is to be determined by his conscience. As I think, we judge that the end of man is to be gained by obeying his conscience by comparing that faculty with others, but that judgment and comparison are not the work of the faculty itself. In this there is a slight difference on another ground ; but now comes that again from our not understanding alike " sensi- bility " and its cognates. Dr. McCosh is " sorry to find me falling into the omission of Professor Bain, and of the sensational and utilitarian school generally,' — an omission, by the way, fallen into by Ktmt and Hamil- ton and every distinguished intuitional philosopher who has written since, — " and representing the original constituents of man's end [being?] to be intellect to know, sensibility to feel, and will to choose and act." In so doing, he says I have " left out, as an independent element, the IMoral Power, Moral Reason, or Con- science." He is "amazed to find me declaring that without a sensibility the conception of an end is impos- sible." He holds that "the moral power in man de- clares that there is a higher end than the mere securing or procuring of enjoyment," and that "it is easy to form a conception of it." Here it is, in all this, that we feel the need of that inscrutable meaning of the word " sensibility " of which I have spoken. For with- 896 APPENDIX C. out it what have we ? "We have a part of man's na- ture, and that the highest, which neither consists, uoi is employed, in knowing, or feeling, or willing ! What else is possible ? We have an end without a sensibility, easy to be conceived of, higher than any other, and yet the pursuit of which would neither secure nor promote, at least intentionally, the enjoyment of anybody. I am curious to know what such an end may be, espe- cially in the view of one who holds that " the supreme end is blessedness (properly explained) or holy enjoy- ment." Under his third head Dr. McCosh says that I " give to Moral Reason a place, but a confused place." What I say is, that moral reason recognizes moral quality, and affirms obligation to choose ends. He, as I sup- pose, says the same, and also makes this affirmation of obligation, or sense of duty, a- part of the end. He says, " This makes the sense of duty to enter into the virtuous act and to become part of the end." I say it enters into the act to give it quality, but not as a part of the end. The end, I suppose, must be known before the sense of duty can be originated. Whether this more complex view gives moral reason a less "con- fused place,'' I leave others to judge. That a moral act may be binding, both beforehand and at the time when it is done, I agree fully with Dr. McCosh ; but am not sure that I understand what is meant by its being binding " behindhand." On the question under his fourth head, we seem to be in direct opposition. Dr. McCosh affirms, and I deny, that the quality of an act can be the ground of obligation to do that act ; and yet I am not sure that we are looking at precisely the same point when we thus affirm and deny. I agree that the quality of an act may be assigned as the reason for doing it. A man APPENDIX C. 397 may be exhorted to do a just act because it is just, or he may say he did it because it was so. This is con- venient, and often sufficient, and language has accommo- dated itself to it as it has to the apparent motion of the heavens ; but it would be mere trifling to assign the fact of the justice of an act — that is the quality of justice in it — as the ground of the obligation to do justice. We here seels what is ultimate, the real na- ture of things ; and what I say, and have said, is that without an underlying sensibility and its products in the consciousness, the quality itself of justice could not exist — that nothing could be either just or right. He and his school say that an action is right because it is right, and that is the end of it. I say that a reason can always be given why an action is right, and that without a sensibility, the quality of right in an action, regarded as moral, could not exist. Under his fifth head Dr. McCosh allows that "in many virtues pleasure and pain enter into our view." " We are bound," he says, " as much as in us lies, to « promote the happiness of all beings capable of joy or of sorrow. But even here, let it be observed, a moral element enters : we are bound to do this." Of course we are. Who ever thought otherwise ? I agree with Dr. McCosh perfectly, that when beings capable of joy or of sorrow are in question, we are as much, or at least nearly as much, bound to exert ourselves for them as if they were capable of no such thing. I agree with him that justice is quite as much a virtue as be- nevolence,^ only I do not think that "justice looks to what is right in itself" independently of benevolence, or that it could exist without it. I think benevolence its condition, but no more think the idea of justice a part of that of benevolence than I do the idea of identity a part of that of being. 1 think also that if God were 1 See Law of Love, p. 113. 898 APPENDIX C. as incapable of sensibility as a rock, and so incapable of enjoyment, it would be impossible for us to love Him with the love of benevolence, the only love com- manded. Respecting the Bible, Dr. McCosh says, under his sixtli head, that he is " not very willing to use its sim- ple statements to settle philosophic questions." I am. Let the Bible state anything Mmply and explicitly, and 1 have no philopophy to oppose to it. I said that the Bible nowhere commands us to do right because it is riglit. Dr. McCosh was surprised, and undertook to show that it did, by quoting the only passage he could find that seemed to say so, though it did not. He now simply says that it seems to. him "that the Word of God in its spirit and letter opposes that theory which makes man's highest end to be enjoyment," quoting no text, and implying, in the form of his statement, that I hold that the end of man is his own enjoyment. I have nowhere said that. What I say is, that the high- est end of man is to cause blessedness " properly ex- plained." In immediate connection, Dr. McCosh speaks « of sensitive pain and sensitive enjoyment as if they were the basis of my system. I trust I have snid nothing to justify this. I am no sensationalist, but a believer in the highest form of intuitional and spiritual philoso- phy. I am no utilitarian. I believe in a good that is good in itself, and to be sought for its own sake ; and in disinterested love of beings who are capable of happiness, quite as much, too, as if they were not. In my two books, 1 have examined the constitution of man in its relation both to nature and to the Bible. I have found from that, that the law of the constitution is the law of the Bible. That law — the Law of Love — I accept and endeavor to enforce — simply that. I build no " half-way hou^e." I bring in nothing " sur- APPENDIX C. 399 reptitiously." I steal no element. I do not subordi- nate virtue to happiness, but find a harmony between them. I do not say as Dr. Lord, in his letter to the graduates of Dartmouth, taking the representation of Dr. McCosh, represents me as saying, that I am bound to glorify God " because my faculties are adapted to that duty, and in .performing it my faculties will be in harmony, and I shall be happy." I simply find the moral law — the one law for myself and for all others — impersonal and impartial, and have as little to do with this teiTible enjoyment as is possible under a law that requires me to promote it in its purest form and in the highest degree. But enough. All metaphysical points lie within a narrow compass, and it is both amusing and annoying to me to see what a fog of discussion, and often nimbus, will gather around them. Those involved in this dis- cussion seem to me simple and luminous. Most of the difficulty in making them Appear so to others arises from the imperfection of language. This lias seemed to me so great, that for years I was deterred from attempting anything. I saw so much on those subjects of mere logomachy. This lias been a difficulty between Dr. McCosh and myself. We evidently do not always attach the same shade of meaning to the same word. If we could do that, I am confident it would bring us nearer together than we have seemed, for not only are the intuitions of all men on these subjects alike, but he and I belong to the same general school of thought, and are substantially working together. I close by reciprocating the kind expressions of re- gard by Dr. McCosh. It was a great pleasure to me to welcome him in this country. I rejoiced in the eclat with which he was received at Princeton, and in the favor and endowment which his coming brought 400 APPENDIX C. to that College. I trust the favor will continue, and the endowment increase ; and can only say that if another such man could be found who would come to this College and bring equal favor and endowment, es- pecially, just now, the endowment, I would resign to-day. WlIXIAMS COLLEQE, Sept. 2Sth, 1369.