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YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

the
BRIDGEWATER TREATISES
ON THE POWER, WISDOM, AND GOODNESS OF GOD,
AS MANIFESTED IN THE CREATION.

TREATISE I.
THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE MORAL
AND INTELLECTUAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN.
BY THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

ON THE
POWER WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD
AS MANIFESTED IN THE ADAPTATION
OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE MORAL AND
INTELLECTUAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN
BY THE
REV. THOMAS CHALMERS D.D.
PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF F.DINEURGH
VOL I

LONDON
WILLIAM PICKERING
1835

15

K^1

V.

to the
RIGHT HONOURABLE AND RIGHT REVEREND
CHARLES JAMES,
LORD BISHOP OF LONDON.

My Lord,
Your Lordship's personal kindness to my
self would alone have inclined me to solicit
for this work the honour of your patronage
and name.
But I must further confess the peculiar
satisfaction which I feel, in offering it as a
tribute and a public acknowledgment of
my admiration for an order of men, who,
more than all others, have enriched by their
labours the moral and theological literature
of England.

6 DEDICATION;
In the prosecution of that arduous and
hitherto almost unattempted theme which
the late President of the Royal Society
has, by your Lordship's recommendation,
assigned to me, I have derived greater aid
from the views and reasonings of Bishop
Butler, than I have been able to find
besides, in the whole range of our existent
authorship. With his powerful aid I commenced the
high investigation to which your Lordship
has called me. To imagine that I have
completed it, would be to forget at once
the fulness of the Creation, and the finitude
of the Creature. Whatever the department
of Nature may be which we explore, in
quest of evidence for the perfections of its
Author, there is no inquirer, though even
of the most transcendent powers, who shall
ever attain the satisfaction of having tra
versed the whole length and breadth of
the land. He will have but entered and

DEDICATION. 7
proceeded a certain way, within the margin
of a territory, whose riches are inexhaus
tible. That your Lordship may long continue,
by your zeal, and talents, and lofty erudition,
to sustain the honours, and to promote the
vital good, of our Religious Establishments
in this Empire, is the fervent desire and
prayer of, My Lord,
Your Lordship's most obliged
and obedient Servant,
Thomas Chalmers.

Edinburgh, May 13, 1833.

NOTICE.

The Series of Treatises, of which the present is one, is
published under the following circumstances : —
The Right Honourable and Reverend Francis
Henry, Earl of Bridgewater, died in the month of
February, 1829; and by his last Will and Testament, bear
ing date the 25th of February, 1825, he directed certain
Trustees therein named to invest in the public funds the
sum of Eight Thousand Pounds sterling ; this sum, with
the accruing dividends thereon, to be held at the disposal of
the President, for the time being, of the Royal Society of
London, to be paid to the person or persons nominated by
him. The Testator further directed, that the person or
persons selected by the said President should be appointed
to write, print, and publish, one thousand copies of a work
On the Power, Wisdom, and Goodness of God, as manifested
in the Creation ; illustrating such work by all reasonable ar
guments — as for instance the variety and formation of God's
creatures in the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms;
the effect of digestion, and thereby of conversion ; the construc
tion of the hand of man, and an infinite variety of other argu
ments ; as also by discoveries, ancient and modern, in arts,
sciences, and the whole extent of literature. He desired,
moreover, that the profits arising from the sale of the works
so published should be paid to the authors of the works.

10
The late President of the Royal Society, Davies Gilbert,
Esq. requested the assistance of his Grace the Archbishop
of Canterbury and of the Bishop of London, in determining
upon the best mode of carrying into effect the intentions of
the Testator. Acting with their advice, and with the con
currence of a nobleman immediately connected with the
deceased, Mr. Davies Gilbert appointed the following eight
gentlemen to write separate Treatises on the different
branches of the subject as here stated : —
THE REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.
PROFESSOR OP DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH.
ON THE POWER, WISDOM, AND GOODNESS OF GOD,
AS MANIFESTED IN THE ADAPTATION
OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE MORAL AND
INTELLECTUAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN.

JOHN KIDD, M.D. F.R.S.
REGIUS PROFESSOR OF MEDICINE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE
PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN.
THE REV. WILLIAM WHEWELL, M. A. F. R. S.
FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
ASTRONOMY AND GENERAL PHYSICS CONSIDERED WITH
REFERENCE TO NATURAL THEOLOGY.
SIR CHARLES BELL, K.G.H. F.R.S.L. & E.
THE HAND: ITS MECHANISM AND VITAL ENDOWMENTS
AS EVINCING DESIGN.
PETER MARK ROGET, M.D.
FELLOW OF AND SECRETARY TO THE ROYAL SOCIETY.
ON ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY.

11

THE REV. WILLIAM BUCKLAND, D.D. F.R.S.
CANON OF CHRIST'S CHURCH, AND PROFESSOR OF GEOLOGY LN THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.
ON GEOLOGY AND MINERALOGY.

THE REV. WILLIAM KIRBY, M.A. F.R.S.
ON THE HISTORY, HABITS, AND INSTINCTS OF ANIMALS.
WILLIAM PROUT, M.D. F.R.S.
ON CHEMISTRY, METEOROLOGY, AND THE FUNCTION
OF DIGESTION.

His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, Presi
dent of the Royal Society, having desired that no unnecessary
delay should take place in the publication of the above-men
tioned Treatises, they will appear at short intervals, as they
are ready for publication.

CONTENTS
TO THE FIRST VOLUME.

page
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER,  21
PART I.
On the Adaptation of External Nature to the
Moral Constitution of Man.
Chap. I. First General Argument. — On the Supre
macy of Conscience,  71
II. Second General Argument. — On the Inher
ent Pleasure of the Virtuous, and Misery of the
Vicious Affections,  ill
III. Third General Argument  The Power and
Operation of Habit,  145
IV. On the General Adaptation of External Nature
to the Moral Constitution of Man, .... 169
V. On the Special and Subordinate Adaptations of
External Nature to the Moral Constitution of
Man,  197
VI. On those Special Affections which conduce to the
Civil and Political Wellbeing of Society, . . 227

PREFACE.

It is an incongruous thing, when there is
any want of conformity between the subject
matter of an essay, and its title. The object
of this explanatory preface is to show that it
is an incongruity into which we have not
fallen. In the first place, we were not in fair cir
cumstances for expounding the adaptation of
external nature to the mental constitution of
man, till we had made manifest in some de
gree what that constitution is. There is no
distinct labourer in that conjunct demonstra
tion of the divine attributes which is now
being offered to the world, to whom this
essentially preliminary topic had been as
signed as the subject of a separate work.
It was therefore unavoidable, that, to a cer
tain extent, we should undertake it ourselves,
else, in proceeding to the construction of our

16

PREFACE.

argument, we might have incurred the charge
of attempting to rear a superstructure, with
out a foundation to rest upon.
But in the execution of this introductory
part of our subject, we could scarcely have
refrained from noticing the indications of
divine wisdom and goodness in our mental
constitution itself, even though our strictly
proper, because our assigned task, was to
point out these indications in the adaptation
of this constitution to external nature. We
could not forget that the general purpose of
the work was to exhibit with all possible
fulness the argument for the character of the
Deity, as grounded on the laws and appear
ances of nature. But we should have left out
a very rich and important track of argument,
had we forborne all observation on the evi
dence for the divine perfections, in the struc
ture and processes of the mind itself, and
confined ourselves to the evidence afforded
by the relations which the mind bore to the
external world. In the adaptation of external
nature to man's physical constitution, there
are many beautiful and decisive indications of
a God. But prior to these, there is a multi
tude of distinct indications, both in the human

PREFACE. 17
anatomy, and the human physiology, viewed
by themselves, and as separate objects of con
templation. And accordingly, in this joint
undertaking, there have been specific labour
ers assigned to each of these departments.
But we have not had the advantage of any
previous expounder for the anatomy of the
mind, or the physiology of the mind ; and we
felt that to have left unnoticed all the vivid
and various inscriptions of a Divinity, which
might be collected there, would have been to
withhold from view some of the best attesta
tions in the whole range and economy of na
ture, for the wisdom and benevolence of its
great Architect.
But to construct a natural theology on any
subject, it is not necessary to make of that
subject a full scientific exposition. The one
is as distinct from the other, as the study of
final is from the study of efficient causes —
the former often lying patent to observation,
while the latter may be still involved in
deepest obscurity. It were a manifest injury
to our cause,, it were to bedim the native
lustre of its evidences, did we enter with it
among the recondite places of the mental
philosophy, and there enwrap it in the ambi-
VOL. i. b

1

18 PREFACE.
guity of questions yet unresolved, in the mist
of controversies yet unsettled. Often, thougl
not always, the argument for a God in some
phenomenon of nature depends upon its re
ality, and not upon its analysis, or the physical
mode of its origination — on the undoubted
truth that so it is, and not on the undeter
mined, perhaps indeterminable question of
how it is. We should not have shrunk from
the obscurer investigation, had it been at all
necessary. But that is no reason why time
must be consumed on matters which are at
once obscure and irrelevant. It is all the
more fortunate that we are not too long de
tained from an entry on our proper task,
among the depths or the difficulties of any
preliminary disquisition which comes before
it — and that the main strength of the argu
ment which our mental constitution, taken by
itself, furnishes to the cause of theism, lies
not in those subtilties which are apprehended
only by few, but in certain broad and palpable
generalities which are recognised by all men.
But there is another explanation which we
deem it necessary to make, in order fully to
reconcile the actual topics of our essay, with
the designation which has been prefixed to it.

PREFACE. 19
If by external nature be meant all that is
external to mind, then the proper subject of
our argument is the adaptation of the material
to the mental world. But if by external na
ture be meant all that is external to one indi
vidual mind, then would the subject be very
greatly extended ; for beside the reciprocal
influence between that individual mind, and
all sensible and material things, we should
consider the reciprocal influence between it
and all other minds. By this contraction of
the idea from the mental world to but one
individual member of it — and this propor
tional extension in the idea of external nature
from the material creation to the whole of that
living, as well as inanimate creation, by which
any single man is surrounded — we are intro
duced not merely to the action and reaction
which obtain between mind and matter ; but,
which is far more prolific of evidence for a
Deity, to the action and reaction which obtain
between mind and mind. We thus find ac
cess to a much larger territory, which should
otherwise be left unexplored — and have the
opportunity of tracing the marks of a divine
intelligence in the mechanism of human so-
ciety, and in the framework of the social and
B CZ

20

PREFACE.

economical systems to which men are con
ducted, when they adhere to that light, and
follow the impulse of those affections, which
God has bestowed on them.
But in the progress of our argument, we
come at length to be engaged with the adap
tations of external nature, even in the most
strict and limited sense of the term. In the
origin and rights of property, as well as in the
various economic interests of society, we be
hold the purest exemplification of that adjust
ment which obtains between the material
system of things and man's moral nature —
and when we proceed to treat of his intelleo
tual constitution, it will be found that the har
monies between the material and the mental
worlds are still more numerous, and more
palpably indicative of that wisdom which ori
ginated both, and conformed them with ex*
quisite and profound skill to each other.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
GENERAL AND PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
J. External nature, when spoken of in contra
distinction to mind, suggests chiefly, if not solely,
the idea of the material universe. Even though
restricted to this limited and proper sense of the
term, we should still behold the proofs of benefi
cent design in the fitnesses of the one to the other ;
but far more abundantly and decisively, it must
be confessed, in the adaptation of external nature
to the physical, than in its adaptation to the moral
and intellectual constitution of man. For fully
developing our peculiar argument, an enlargement
of the meaning commonly affixed to external na
ture seems indispensable, — an enlargement that we
should not have ventured on, if in so doing we
crossed the legitimate boundaries of our assigned
subject ; and that, for the mere purpose of multi
plying our topics, or possessing ourselves of a wider
field of authorship. But the truth is, that did we
confine our notice to the relations which obtain
between the world of mind and the world of mat-

22 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
ter, we should be doing injustice to our own theme,
by spoiling it of greatly more than half its richness,
— beside leaving unoccupied certain fertile tracts
of evidence, which, if not entered upon in our
division of the general work, must, as is obvious
from the nature of the respective tasks, be alto
gether omitted in the conjunct demonstration that
is now being offered to the public, of the Goodness
and Wisdom of the Deity.
2. It is true that, with even but one solitary
human mind in midst of the material creation,
certain relations could be traced between them
that would indicate both skill and a benevolent
purpose on the part of Him who constructed the
framework of nature, and placed this single oc
cupier within its confines. And, notwithstanding
this limitation, there would still be preserved to us
certain striking adaptations in the external system
of things to the intellectual, and some too, though
fewer and less noticeable, to the moral constitution
of man. But, born as man obviously is for the
companionship of his fellows, it must be evident
that the main tendencies and aptitudes of his
moral constitution should be looked for in connec
tion with his social relationships, with the action
and reaction which take place between man and
the brethren of his species. We therefore under
stand external nature to comprehend in it, not
merely all that is external to mind, but all that is
external to the individual possessor of a human

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. '23
mind, — who is surrounded not only by an economy
of complex and extended materialism, but who is
surrounded by other men and other minds than his
own. Without this generalized view of external
nature, we should be left in possession of but scanty
materials for evincing its adaptation to the moral
constitution of man, though an ample field of obser
vation would still lie open to us, in unfolding the
aptitude of the human understanding, with its
various instincts and powers, for the business of
physical investigation. For the purpose then of
enhancing our argument, or rather of doing but
justice to it, we propose to consider not merely
those relations between mind and matter, but those
relations between mind and mind, the establish
ment of which attests a wise and beneficent con
trivance. We shall thus be enabled to enter on a
department of observation distinct from that of all
the other labourers in this joint enterprise,1 — and
while their provinces respectively are to trace the
hand of a great and good Designer in the mechan
ism of the heavens, or the mechanism of the ter
restrial physics, or the mechanism of various or
ganic structures in the animal and vegetable king
doms ; it will be part of ours, more especially, to
point out the evidences of a forming and presiding,
and withal benevolent intelligence in the mechan
ism of human society.
3. We conceive of external nature, then, that it
comprehends more than the mute and unconscious

24 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
materialism, and the objective truth — it compre
hends also the living society by which the posses
sor of a moral and intellectual constitution is sur
rounded. Did we exclude the latter from our
regards, we should be keeping out of view a num-,
ber of as wise, and certainly, in the degree that
mind is of higher consideration than body, of far
more beneficial and important adaptations than any
which are presented to our notice in the mechani
cal, or chemical, or physiological departments of
creation. Both in the reciprocities of domestic
life, and in those wider relations, which bind large
assemblages of men into political and economical
systems, we shall discern the incontestable marks
of a divine wisdom and care ; principles or laws
of human nature, in virtue of which the social
economy moves rightly and prosperously onward,
and apart from which all would go into derange?
ment ; affinities between man and his fellows, that
harmonize the individual with the general inter
ests, and are obviously designed as provisions for
the wellbeing both of families and nations.
4. It might help to guard us against a possible
misconception, if now, at the outset of our argu
ment, we shall distinguish between the moral con.
stitution of man, and that moral system of doctrine
which embodies in it the outer truths or principles
of ethical science. The two are as distinct from
each other, as are the objective and subjective in
any quarter of contemplation whatever, and ought

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 2.5
no more to be confounded than, in optics, the sys
tem of visible things with the anatomical structure
of the eye. The organ which perceives or appre*
hends truth is separate in reality, and should be
kept separate in thought, from the truth which is
apprehended ; and thus it is that we should view
the moral constitution of man and the moral sys
tem of virtue as diverse and distinct from each
other. The one belongs to the physiology of the
mind, and is collected, like all other experimental
truth, by a diligent observation of facts and phe
nomena. The other, involving, as it does, those
questions which relate to the nature of virtue, or
to the origin and principles of moral obligation,
directs the attention of the mind to another quar
ter than to its own processes, and presents us with
a wholly distinct matter of contemplation. The
acts of moral judgment or feeling should not be
confounded with the objects of moral judgment or
feeling, any more, in fact, than the rules of logic
should be confounded with the laws which govern
the procedure of the human understanding. The
question, 'What is virtue?' or ' What is that
which constitutes virtue ?' is one thing. The ques
tion, ' What is the mental process by which man
takes cognizance of virtue?' is another. They
are as distinct from each other as are the princi
ples of good reasoning from the processes of the
reasoning faculty. It is thus that the mental phi
losophy, whose proper and legitimate province is

26 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
the physics of the mind, should be kept distinct
from logic and ethics, and the philosophy of taste.
The question, * What is beautiful in scenery ?' or
• What is right in character ?' or ' What is just in
argument?' is distinct from the question, « What
is the actual and historical procedure of the mind
in addressing itself to these respective objects of
contemplation ?' as distinct, indeed, as the ques
tion of ' Quid est,' is from ' Quid oportet ;' or as
the question of ' What is,' from ' What ought to
be.'* A sound objective system of ethics may be
framed, irrespective of any attention that we give
to man's moral constitution. A sound system of
logic may be framed, irrespective of any attention
that we give to man's intellectual constitution.
And on the other hand, however obscure or un
settled these sciences may still be, and more espe
cially, whatever controversies may yet obtain re
specting the nature and the elementary principles
of virtue, — such, notwithstanding, may be the pal
pable and ascertained facts in the nature and his
tory of subjective man, that, both on his mental
constitution, and on the adaptation thereto of ex-
* See the Introduction to Sir James Macintosh's Ethical
Dissertation. " The purpose of the physical sciences, through
out all their provinces, is to answer the question, ' What is f
The purpose of the moral sciences is to answer the question,
' What ought to be?'" — It should be well kept in view, that
mental philosophy is one province of the physical sciences, and
belongs to the first of these two departments, being distinct from
moral philosophy, which forms the second of them.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 27
ternal nature, there might remain a clear and un
questionable argument for the power, and wisdom,
and goodness of God.
5. Having thus referred our argument, not to
the constitution of morality in the abstract, but to
the constitution of man's moral nature — a concrete
and substantive reality, made up of facts that come
within the domain of observation — let us now con
sider how it is that natural theology proceeds with
her demonstrations, on other constitutions and
other mechanisms in creation, that we may learn
from this in what manner we should commence and
prosecute our labours, on that very peculiar, we
had almost said, untried field of investigation which
has been assigned to us.
6. The chief then, or at least the usual subject-
matter of the argument for the wisdom and good
ness of God, is the obvious adaptation wherewith
creation teems, throughout all its borders, of means
to a beneficial end. And it is manifest that the
argument grows in strength with the number and
complexity of these means. The greater the num
ber of independent circumstances which must meet
together for the production of a useful result —
then, in the actual fact of their concurrence, is
there less of probability for its being the effect of
chance, and more of evidence for its being the
effect of design. A beneficent combination of
three independent elements is not so impressive
or so strong an argument for a Divinity, as a similar

28 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
combination of six or ten such elements. And
every mathematician, conversant in the doctrine of
probabilities, knows how, with every addition to the
number of theSe elements, the argument grows in
force and intensity, with a rapid and multiple aug
mentation — till at length, in some of the more
intricate and manifold conjunctions, those more
particularly having an. organic character and struc*
ture, could we but trace them to an historical com
mencement, we should find, on the principles of
computation alone, that the argument against their
being fortuitous products, and for their being the
products of a scheming and skilful artificer, was
altogether overpowering.
7. We might apply this consideration to various
departments in nature. In astronomy, the inde
pendent elements seem but few and simple, which
must meet together for the composition of a plane
tarium. One uniform law of gravitation, with a
force of projection impressed by one impulse on
each of the bodies, could suffice to account for
the revolutions of the planets round the sun, and
of the satellites around their primaries, along with
the diurnal revolution of each, and the varying
inclinations of the axes to the planes of their re
spective orbits. Out of such few contingencies,
the actual orrery of the heavens has been framed.
But in anatomy, to fetch the opposite illustration
from another science, what a complex and crowded
combination of individual elements must first be

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 29
effected, ere we obtain the composition of an eye,
— for the completion of which mechanism, there
must not only be a greater number of separate
laws, as of refraction and muscular action and
secretion ; but a vastly greater number of sepa
rate and distinct parts, as the lenses, and the re
tina, and the optic nerve, and the eyelid and eye-
lashes^ and the various muscles wherewith this
delicate organ is so curiously beset, and each of
which is indispensable to its perfection, or to the
right performance of its functions. It is passing
marvellous that we should have more intense evi
dence for a God in the construction of an eye,
than in the construction of the mighty plane
tarium — or that, within less than the compass of
a handbreadth, we should find in this lower
world a more pregnant and legible inscription of
the Divinity, than can be gathered from a broad
and magnificent survey of the skies, lighted up
though they be, with the glories and the wonders
of astronomy.
8. But while nothing can be more obvious than
that the proof for design in any of the natural
formations, is the stronger, in proportion to the
number of separate and independent elements
which have been brought together, and each of
which contributes essentially to its usefulness — >
we have long held it of prime importance to the
theistical argument, that clear exhibition should
be made of a distinction not generally adverted

30 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
to, which obtains between one set of these ele-
ments and another. We shall illustrate this by
a material, ere we apply it to a mental work
manship. 9. There is, then, a difference of great argu-
mentative importance in this whole question, be
tween the Laws of Matter and the Dispositions of
Matter. In astronomy, for example, when attend
ing to the mechanism of the planetary system, we
should instance at most but two laws — the law of
gravitation ; and perhaps the law of perseverance,
on the part of all bodies, whether in a state of rest
or of motion, till interrupted by some external
cause. But had we to state the dispositions of
matter in the planetary system, we should instance
a greater number of particulars. We should de
scribe the arrangement of its various parts, whether
in respect to situation, or magnitude, or figure—
as the position of a large and luminous mass in
the centre, and of the vastly smaller but opaque
masses which birculated around it, but at such dis
tances as not to interfere with each other, and of
the still smaller secondary bodies which revolved
about the planets. And we should include in this
description the impulses in one direction, and
nearly in one plane, given to the different moving
bodies ; and so regulated, as to secure the move
ment of each, in an orbit of small eccentricity.
The dispositions of matter in the planetary system
were fixed at the original setting up of the machine.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 31
The laws of matter were ordained for the working
of the machine. The former, that is, the disposi
tions, make up the framework, or what may be
termed the apparatus of the system. The latter,
that is, the laws, uphold the performance of it.
10. Now the tendency of atheistical writers is
to reason exclusively on the laws of matter, and
to overlook its dispositions. Could all the beau
ties and benefits of the astronomical system be re
ferred to the single law of gravitation, it would
greatly reduce the strength of the argument for a
designing cause. La Place, as if to fortify still
more the atheism of such a speculation, endea
voured to demonstrate of this law — that, in respect
of its being inversely proportional to the square of
the distance from the centre, it is an essential pro
perty of matter. La Grange had previously estab
lished — that but for such a proportion, or by the
deviation of a thousandth part from it, the planetary
system would go into derangement — or, in other
words, that the law, such as it is, was essential to
the stability of the present mundane constitution.
La Place would have accredited the law, the un
conscious and unintelligent law, that thing accord
ing to him of blind necessity, with the whole of
this noble and beautiful result — overlooking what
La Grange held to be indispensable as concurring
elements in his demonstration of it — certain dis
positions along with the law — such as the move
ment of all the planets, first in one direction, second,

32 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
nearly in one plane, and then in nearly circular
orbits; We are aware that, according to the dis.
coveries, or rather perhaps to the guesses, of some
later analysts, the three last circumstances might
be dispensed with ; and yet, notwithstanding", the
planetary system, its errors still remaining periodi
cal, would in virtue of the single law oscillate
around a mean state that should be indestructible
and everlasting. Should this come to be a corn
clusively settled doctrine in the science, it will
extenuate, we admit, the argument for a designing
cause in the formation of the planetarium. But
it will not annihilate that argument — for there do
remain certain palpable utilities in the dispositions
as well as laws of the planetary system, acknow'
ledged by all the astronomers ; such as the vastly
superior weight and quantity of matter accumulated
in its centre, and the local establishment there of
that great fountain of light and heat from which
the surrounding worlds receive throughout the
whole of their course an equable dispensation.
What a mal-adjustment would it have been, had
the luminous and the opaque matter changed places
in the firmament; or the planets, by the eccen-
tricity of their orbits, been subject to such vicissi
tudes of temperature, as would certainly, in our
own at least, have entailed destruction both on the
animal and vegetable kingdoms !
11. But whatever defect or doubtfulness of
evidence there may be in the mechanism of the

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 33
heavens — this is amply made up for in a more
accessible mechanism, near at hand. If either
the dispositions of matter in the former mechanism
be so few, or the demonstrable results of its single
law be so independent of them, that the agency of
design rather than of necessity or chance be less
manifest than it otherwise would be in the astro
nomical system — nothing on the other hand can
exceed the force and concentration of that proof,
which is crowded to so marvellous a degree of
enhancement within the limits of the anatomical
system. It is this which enables us to draw so
much weightier an argument for a God, from the
construction of an eye than from the construction
of a planetarium. And here it is quite palpable,
that it is in the dispositions of matter more than
in the laws of matter, where the main strength of
the argument lies, though we hear much more of
the wisdom of Nature's laws, than of the wisdom
of her collocations.* Now it is true that the law
* This distinction between the laws and collocations of matter
is overlooked by atheistical writers, as in the following specimen
from the " Systeme de la Nature" of Mirabaud. '< These pre
judiced dreamers," speaking of believers in a God, " are in an
ecstasy at the sight of the periodical motion of the planets ; at
the order of the stars ; at the various productions of the earth ;
at the astonishing harmony in the component parts of animals.
In that moment, however, they forget the laws of motion ; the
power of gravitation ; the forces of attraction and repulsion ; they
VOL. I. C

34 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
of refraction is indispensable to the faculty of
vision ; but the laws indispensable to this result
are greatly outnumbered by the dispositions which
are indispensable to it — such as the rightly sized
and shaped lenses of the eye; and the rightly
placed retina spread out behind them, and at the
precise distance where the indispensable picture
of external nature might be formed, and presented
as it were for the information of the occupier with
in ; and then, the variety and proper situation of
the numerous muscles, each intrusted with an im
portant function, and all of them contributing to
the power and perfection of this curious and mani
foldly complicated organ. It is not so much the
endowment of matter with certain properties* as
the arrangement of it into certain parts, that be
speaks here the hand of an artist ; and this will be
found true of the anatomical structure in all its
departments. It is not the mere chemical pro-
assign all these striking phenomena to unknown causes, of which
they have no one substantive idea."
When Professor Robison felt alarmed by the attempted de,
monstration of La Place, that the law of gravitation was an
essential property of matter, lest the cause of natural theology
should be endangered by it— he might have recollected that the
main evidence for a Divinity lies not in the laws of matter, but
in their collocations— because of the utter inadequacy in the
existing laws to have originated the existing collocations of the
material world. So that if ever a time was when these colloca
tions were not— there is no virtue in the laws that can account
for their commencement, or that supersedes the fiat of a God.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 35
perty of the gastric juice that impresses the belief
of contrivance; but the presence of the gastric
juice, in the very situation whence it comes forth
to act with advantage on the food, when received
into the stomach, and there submitted to a diges
tive process for the nourishment of the animal
economy. It is well to distinguish these two
things. If we but say of matter that it is furnished
with such powers as make it subservient to many
useful results, we keep back the strongest and
most unassailable part of the argument for a God.
It is greatly more pertinent and convincing to say
of matter, that it is distributed into such parts as
to ensure a right direction and a beneficial appli
cation for its powers. It is not so much in the
establishment of certain laws for matter, that we
discern the aims or the purposes of intelligence,,
as in certain dispositions of matter, that put it in
the way of being usefully operated upon by the
laws. Insomuch, that though we conceded to the
atheist, the eternity of matter, and the essentially
inherent character of all its laws — we could still
point out to him, in the manifold adjustments of
matter, its adjustments of place, and figure, and
magnitude, the most impressive signatures of a
Deity. And what a countless variety of such
adjustments within the compass of an animal, or
even a vegetable framework ! In particular, what
an amount and condensation of evidence for a God
in the workmanship of the human body! What

36* INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
bright and convincing lessons of theology might
man (would he but open his eyes) read on his own
person— that microcosm of divine art, where, as
in the sentences of a perfect epitome, he might
trace in every lineament or member the finger and
authorship of the Godhead!
12. In the performances of human art, the
argument for design that is grounded on the use
ful dispositions of matter, stands completely dis
entangled from the argument that is grounded on
the useful laws of matter — for in every implement
or piece of mechanism constructed by the hands
of man, it is in the latter apart from the former,
that the indications of contrivance wholly and ex
clusively lie. We do not accredit man with the
establishment of any laws for matter — yet he leaves
enough by which to trace the operations of his in
telligence in the collocations of matter. He does
not give to matter any of its properties ; but he
arranges it into parts — and by such arrangement
alone, does he impress upon his workmanship the
incontestable marks of design ; not in that he has
communicated any powers to matter, but in that
he has intelligently availed himself of these powers,
and directed them to an obviously beneficial re
sult. The watchmaker did not give its elasticity
to the main-spring, nor its regularity to the balance-
wheel, nor its transparency to the glass, nor the
momentum of its varying forces to the levers :of
his mechanism,— yet is the whole replete with the

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 37
marks of intelligence notwithstanding, announcing
throughout the hand of a maker who had an eye
on all these properties, and assigned the right place
and adjustment to each of them, in fashioning and
bringing together the parts of an instrument for
the measurement and the indication of time. Now,
the same distinction can be observed in all the
specimens of natural mechanism. It is true that we
accredit the author of these with the creation and
laws of matter, as well as its dispositions ; but this
does not hinder its being in the latter and not in
the former, where the manifestations of skill are
most apparent, or where the chief argument for a
Divinity lies. The truth is, that mere laws, with
out collocations, would have afforded no security
against a turbid and disorderly chaos. One can
imagine of all the substantive things which enter
into the composition of a watch, that they may
have been huddled together, without shape, and
without collocation, into a little chaos, or confused
medley ;-*-where, in full possession of all the pro*
perties which belong to the matter of the instru
ment, but without its dispositions, every evidence
of skill would have been wholly obliterated. And
it is even so with all the substantive things which
enter into the composition of a world. Take but
their forms and collocations away from them, and
this goodly universe would instantly lapse into a
heaving and disorderly chaos — yet without strip
ping matter of any of its properties or powers.

38 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
There might still, though operating with random
and undirected activity, be the laws of impulse*
and gravitation, and magnetism, and temperature,
and light, and the forces of chemistry, and even
those physiological tendencies, which, however
abortive in a state of primitive rudeness, or before
the Spirit of a God moved on the face of the
waters, waited but a right distribution of the parts
of matter, to develop into the full effect and
establishment of animal and vegetable kingdoms.
The thing wanted for the evolution of this chaos
into an orderly and beneficial system is not the
endowing of matter with right properties ; but the
forming of it into things of right shape and mag-
nitude, and the marshalling of these into right
places. This last alone would suffice for bring
ing harmony out of confusion ; and, apart alto-
gether from the first, or, without involving our
selves in the metaphysical obscurity of those ques-
tions which relate to the origination of matter, and
to the distinction between its arbitrary and essen
tial properties, might we discern, in the mere
arrangements of matter, the most obvious and de*
cisive signatures of the artist hand which has been
employed on it.
13. That is a fine generalization by the late
Professor Robison, of Edinburgh, which ranges
all philosophy into two sciences— one the science
of contemporaneous nature ; the other, the science
of successive nature. When the material world

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 39
is viewed according to this distinction, the whole
science of its contemporaneous phenomena is com
prehended by him under the general name of
Natural History, which takes cognizance of all
those characters in external nature that exist to
gether at the instant, and which may be described
without reference to time — as smell, and colour,
and size, and weight, and form, and relation of
parts, whether of the simple inorganic or more
complex organic structures. But when the ele
ments of time and motion are introduced, we are
then presented with the phenomena of successive
nature ; and the science that embraces these is,
in contradistinction to the former, termed Natural
Philosophy. This latter science may be separated
or subdivided further into natural philosophy,
strictly and indeed usually so called, whose pro
vince it is to investigate those changes which take
effect in bodies by motions that are sensible and
measurable ; and chemistry, or the science of those
changes which take effect in bodies by motions
which are not sensible, or at least not measurable,
and which cannot therefore be made the subjects
of mathematical computation or reasoning. This
last, again, is capable of being still further parti
tioned into the science which investigates the
changes effected by means of insensible motion in
all inorganic matter, or chemistry strictly and
usually so called ; and the science of physiology,
whose province it is to investigate the like changes

40 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
that take place in organic bodies, whether of the^
animal or vegetable kingdoms.
14. Or, the distinction between these two
sciences of contemporaneous and successive na
ture may otherwise be stated thus : — The one, or
natural history, is conversant with objects— the
other, or natural philosophy in its most compre;
hensive meaning, is conversant with events. It
is obvious that the dispositions of matter come
Within the province of the former science — while
the laws of matter, or the various moving forces
by which it is actuated, fall more properly under
the inquiries of the latter science* Now, adopt-
ing this nomenclature, we hold it a most impor
tant assertion for the cause of natural theology*
that should all the present arrangements of our
existing natural history be destroyed, there is no
power in the laws of our existing natural philosophy
to replace them. Or, in other words, if ever a time
was, when the structure and dispositions of mat
ter, under the present economy of things, were not
— there is no force known in nature, and no com-
bination of forces, that can account for their com'
mencementw The laws of nature may keep up the
working of the machineryi--but they did not and
Could not set up the machine. The human species,
for example, may be upholden, through an inde
finite Series of ages, by the established law of
transmission -*— but were the species destroyed}
there are no observed powers of nature by which

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 41
it Could again be originated. For the continuance
of the system and of all its operations, we might
imagine a sufficiency in the laws of nature ; but
it is the first construction of the system which so
palpably calls for the intervention of an artificer,
or demonstrates so powerfully the fiat and finger
of a God.
15. This distinction between nature's laws and
nature's collocations is mainly lost sight of in those
speculations of geology, the object of which is to
explain the formation of new systems emerging
from the wreck of old ones. They proceed on
the sufficiency of nature's laws for building up the
present economy of things out of the ruins of a
former economy, which the last great physical ca
tastrophe on the face of our earth had overthrown.
Now, in these ruins, viewed as materials for the
architecture of a renovated world, there did reside
all those forces, by which the processes of the ex
isting economy are upholden ; but the geologists
assign to them a function wholly distinct from this,
when they labour to demonstrate that by laws, and
laws alone, the framework of our existing economy
was put together. It is thus that they would ex
clude the agency of a God from the transition be
tween one system, or one formation, and another,
although it be precisely at such transition when
this agency seems most palpably and peculiarly
called for. We feel assured that the necessity for
a divine intervention, and, of course, the evidence

42 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
of it, would have been more manifest, had the dis
tinction between the laws of matter and its collo
cations been more formally announced, or more
fully proceeded on by the writers on natural theism.
And yet it is a distinction that must have been
present to the mind of our great Newton, who
expressly affirms that a mechanism of wonderful
structure could not arise by the mere laws of na
ture. In his third printed letter to Bentley, he
says, that " the growth of new systems out of old
ones, without the mediation of a divine power,
seems to me apparently absurd ;" and that " the
system of nature was set in order in the beginning,
with respect to size, figure, proportions, and pro
perties, by the counsels of God's own intelligence."
In the last extract, by his admission of the pro
perties along with the dispositions of matter, he
somewhat confounds or disguises again the impor
tant distinction which, at times, he had clearly in
his view.*
* Towards the end of the third book of Newton's Optics, we
have the following very distinct testimony upon this subject :—
" For it became Him who created them to set them in order.
And if he did so, it is unphilosophical to seek for any other origin
of the world, or to pretend that it might arise out of a chaos by
the mere laws of nature ; though being once formed, it may con
tinue by those laws for many ages."
This disposition to resolve the collocations into the laws of
nature proves, in the expressive language of Granville Penn,
how strenuously, not « physical science," but only some of its
disciples have " laboured to exclude the Creator from the details

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 43
16. But one precious fruit of the recent geolo
gical discoveries may be gathered from the testi
mony which they afford to the destruction of so
many terrestrial economies now gone by, and the
substitution of the existing one in their place. If
there be truth at all in the speculations of this
science, there is nothing which appears to have
been more conclusively established by them, than
a definite origin or commencement for the present
animal and vegetable races. Now we know what
it is which upholds the whole of the physiological
system that is now before our eyes, — even the suc
cessive derivation of each individual member from
a parent of its own likeness ; but we see no force
in nature, and no complication of forces, which can
tell us what it was that originated the system* It
is at this passage in the history of nature, where
we meet with such pregnant evidence for the in
terposition of a designing cause, — an evidence, it
will be seen, of prodigious density and force, when
we compute the immense number and variety of
those aptitudes, whether of form, or magnitude,
or relative position, which enter into the comple
tion of an organic structure. It is in the nume
rical superiority of the distinct collocations to the
distinct laws of matter, that the superior evidence
of the former lies. We do not deny that there is
argument for a God in the number of beneficial,
of his own creation ; straining every nerve of ingenuity to ascribe
them all to secondary causes."

44 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
while, at the same time, distinct and independent
laws wherewith matter is endowed. We only
affirm a million-fold intensity of argument in the
indefinitely greater number of beneficial, and at
the same time distinct and independent number of
collocations whereinto matter has been arranged.
In this respect the human body may be said to
present a more close and crowded and multifarious
inscription of the Divinity, than any single Object
within the compass of visible nature. It is instinct
throughout with the evidence of a builder's hand;
and thus the appropriate men of science, who can
expound those dispositions of matter which con
stitute the anatomy of its framework, and which
embrace the physiology of its various processes,
are on secure and firm vantage-ground for an
impressive demonstration.
17. Now there are many respects in which the
evidence for a God, given forth by the constitu
tion of the human body, differs from the evidence
given forth by the constitution of the human
spirit* It is with the latter evidence that we
have more peculiarly to deal ; but at present we
shall only advert to a few of its distinct and spe
cial characteristics. The subject will at length
open into greater detail and development before
us, — yet a brief preliminary exposition may be
useful at the outset, should it only convey some
notion of the difficulties and particularities of the
task which has been put into our hands.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 45
18. A leading distinction between the material
and the mental fabrications is, the far greater com
plexity of the former, at least greater to all human
observation. Into that system of means which
has been formed for the object of seeing, there
enter at least twenty separate contingencies, the
absence of any one of which would either derange
the proper function of the eye, or altogether de
stroy it. We have no access to aught like the
observation of a mental structure, and all of which
our consciousness informs us is a succession of
mental phenomena. Now in these we are sensible
of nothing but a very simple antecedent followed
up, and that generally on the instant, by a like
simple consequent. We have the feeling, and still
more the purpose of benevolence, followed up by
complacency. We have the feeling or purpose,
and still more the execution of malignity, or rather
the recollection of that execution, followed up by
remorse. However manifold the apparatus may
be which enables us to see an external object —
when the sight itself, instead of the consequent in
a material succession, becomes the antecedent in
a mental one ; or, in other words, when it passes
from a material to a purely mental process ; then,
as soon, does it pass from the complex into the
simple ; and, accordingly, the sight of distress is
followed up, without the intervention of any curi
ously elaborated mechanism that we are at all
conscious of, by an immediate feeling of compas-

46 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
sion. These examples will, at least, suffice to
mark a strong distinction between the two in-
quiries, and to show that the several arguments
drawn from each must at least be formed of very
different materials.
19. There are two distinct ways in which the
mind can be viewed, and which constitute differ
ent modes of conception, rather than diversities
of substantial and scientific doctrine. The mind
may either be regarded as a congeries of different
faculties ; or as a simple and indivisible substance,
with the susceptibility of passing into different
states. By the former mode of viewing it, the
memory, and the judgment, and the conscience)
and the will, are conceived of as so many distinct
but co-existent parts of mind, which is thus repre
sented to us somewhat in the light of an organic
structure, having separate members, each for the
discharge of its own appropriate mental function
or exercise. By the latter, which we deem also
the more felicitous mode of viewing it, these dis
tinct mental acts, instead of being referred to dis
tinct parts of the mind, are conceived of as distinct
acts of the whole mind, — insomuch that the whole
mind remembers, or the whole mind judges, or
the whole mind wills, or, in short, the whole mind
passes into various intellectual states or states of
emotion, according to the circumstances by which
at the time it is beset, or to the present nature of
its employment. We might thus either regard the

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 47
study of mind as a study in contemporaneous na
ture ; and we should then, in the delineation of
its various parts, be assigning to it a natural his
tory, — or we might regard the study of mind as a
study in successive nature ; and we should then,
in the description of its various states, be assigning
to it a natural philosophy. When such a phrase
as the anatomy of the human mind is employed
by philosophers, we may safely guess that the for
mer is the conception which they are inclined to
form of it.* When such a phrase, again, as the
physiology of the human mind is made use of, the
latter is the conception by which, in all probability,
it has been suggested. It is thus that Dr. Thomas
Brown designates the science of mind as mental
physiology. With him, in fact, it is altogether a
science of sequences, his very analysis being the
analysis of results, and not of compounds.
20. Now, in either view of our mental constitu
tion there is the same strength of evidence for a
God. It matters not for this, whether the mind
be regarded as consisting of so many useful parts,
or as endowed with as many useful properties. It
is the number, whether the one or other, of these
— out of which the product is formed of evidence
for a designing cause. The only reason why the
useful dispositions of matter are so greatly more
prolific of this evidence than the useful laws of
* It is under this conception, too, that writers propose to lay
down a map of the human faculties.

48 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
matter, is, that the former so greatly outnumber
the latter. Of the twenty independent circun>
stances which enter into beneficial concurrence in
the formation of an eye, that each of them should
be found in a situation of optimism, and none of
them occupying either an indifferent or a hurtful
position — it is this which speaks so emphatically
against the hypothesis of a random distribution,
and for the hypothesis of an intelligent order.
Yet this is but one out of the many like specimens,
wherewith the animal economy thickens, and teems
in such marvellous profusion. By the doctrine of
probabilities, the mathematical evidence, in this
question, between the two suppositions of intelli
gence or chance, will be found, even on many a
single organ of the human framework, to prepon
derate vastly more than a million-fold on the side
of the former. We do not affirm of the human
mind that it is so destitute of all complication and
variety, as to be deficient altogether in this sort of
evidence. Let there be but six laws or ultimate
facts in the mental constitution, with the circum
stance of each of them being beneficial ; and this
of itself would yield no inconsiderable amount of
precise and calculable proof, for our mental eco
nomy being a formation of contrivance, rather
than one that is fortuitous or of blind necessity,
It will at once be seen, however, why mind, just
from its greater simplicity than matter, should
contribute so much less to the support of natural

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 49
theism, of that definite and mathematical evidence
which is founded on combination.
21. But although, in the mental department of
creation, the argument for a God that is gathered
out of such materials is not so strong as in the
other great department — yet it does furnish a
peculiar argument of its own, which, though not
grounded on mathematical data, and not derived
from a lengthened and logical process of reason
ing, is of a highly effective and practical character
notwithstanding. It has not less in it of the sub
stance, though it may have greatly less in it of the
semblance, of demonstration, that it consists of but
one step between the premises and the conclusion.
It is briefly, but cannot be more clearly and em
phatically expressed than in the following sen
tence : — " He that formed the eye, shall he not
see ? He that planted the ear, shall he not hear ?
He that teacheth man knowledge, shall he not
know ?" That the parent cause of intelligent
beings shall be itself intelligent is an aphorism,
which, if not demonstrable in the forms of logic,
carries in the very announcement of it a challeng
ing power over the acquiescence of almost all
spirits. It is a thing of instant conviction, as if
seen in the light of its own evidence, more than a
thing of lengthened and laborious proof. It may
be stigmatized as a mere impression — nevertheless
the most of intellects go as readily along with it,
as they would from one contiguous step to another
VOL. I. D

50 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
of many a stately argumentation. If it cannot be
exhibited as the conclusion of a syllogism, it is be
cause of its own inherent right to be admitted
there as the major proposition. To proscribe
every such truth, or to disown it from being truth,
merely because incapable of deduction, would be
to cast away the first principles of all reasoning.
It would banish the authority of intuition, and so
reduce all philosophy and knowledge to a state of
universal scepticism — for what is the first depar
ture of every argument but an intuition, and what
but a series of intuitions are its successive stepping-
stones? We should soon involve ourselves in help
less perplexity and darkness, did we insist on every
thing being proved and on nothing being assumed
— for valid assumptions are the materials of truth,
and the only office of argument is to weave them
together into so many pieces of instruction for the
bettering or enlightening of the species.
22. That blind and unconscious matter cannot,
by any of her combinations, evolve the phenomena
of mind, is a proposition seen in its own immediate
light, and felt to be true with all the speed and
certainty of an axiom. It is to such truth, as being
of instant and almost universal consent, that, more
than to any other, we owe the existence of a na
tural theology among men : yet, because of the
occult mysticism wherewith it is charged, it is
well that ours is a cause of such rich and various
argument ; that in her service we can build up

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 51
syllogisms, and expatiate over wide fields of induc
tion, and amass stores of evidence, and, on the
useful dispositions of matter alone, can ground
such large computations of probability in favour
of an intelligent cause or maker for all things, as
might silence and satisfy the reasouers.
23. But we forget that the object of the joint
compositions which enter into this work, is not
properly to demonstrate the being but the attri
butes of God, and more especially His power,
and wisdom, and goodness. We start from that
point at which the intuitions and proofs of the
question have performed their end of convincing
man that God is ; and from this point, we set forth
on an inquiry into the character which belongs to
Him. Now this is an inquiry which the constitu
tion of the mind, and the adaptation of that con
stitution to the external world, are pre-eminently
fitted to illustrate. We hold that the material
universe affords decisive attestation to the natural
perfections of the Godhead, but that it leaves the
question of his moral perfections involved in pro-
foundest mystery. The machinery of a serpent's
tooth, for the obvious infliction of pain and death
upon its victims, may speak as distinctly for the
power and intelligence of its Maker, as the ma
chinery of those teeth which, formed and inserted
for simple mastication, subserve the purposes of a
bland and beneficent economy. An apparatus of
suffering and torture might furnish as clear an in-
D 2

52 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
dication of design, though a design of cruelty, as
does an apparatus for the ministration of enjoy
ment furnish the indication also of design, but a
design of benevolence. Did we confine our study
to the material constitution of things, we should;
meet with the enigma of many perplexing and
contradictory appearances. We hope to make it
manifest, that in the study of the mental constitu
tion, this enigma is greatly alleviated, if not wholly
done away ; and, at all events, that within our
peculiar province there lie the most full and un
ambiguous demonstrations, which nature hath any
where given to us, both of the benevolence and
the righteousness of God.
24. If, in some respects, the phenomena of mind
tell us less decisively than the phenomena of matter,
of the existence of God, they tell us far more dis
tinctly and decisively of His attributes. We have
already said, that, from the simplicity of the mental
system, we met with less there of that evidence
for design which is founded on combination, or on
that right adjustment and adaptation of the numer
ous particulars, which enter into a complex as
semblage of things, and which are essential to some
desirable fulfilment. It is not, therefore, through
the medium of this particular evidence — the evi
dence which lies in combination — that the pheno
mena and processes of mind are the best for telling
us of the Divine existence. But if otherwise, or
previously told of this, we hold them to be the best

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 53
throughout all nature for telling us of the Divine
character. For if once convinced, on distinct
grounds, that God is, it matters not how simple
the antecedents or the consequents of any parti
cular succession may be. It is enough that we
know what the terms of the succession are, or
what the effect is wherewith God wills any given
thing to be followed up. The character of the
ordination, and so the character of the ordainer,
depends on the terms of the succession ; and not
on the nature of that intervention or agency, whe
ther more or less complex, by which it is brought
about. And should either term of the succession,
either the antecedent or consequent, be some moral
feeling, or characteristic of the mind, then the
inference comes to be a very distinct and decisive
one. That the sight of distress, for example,
should be followed up by compassion, is an obvious
provision of benevolence, and not of cruelty, on the
part of Him who ordained our mental constitution.
Again, that a feeling of kindness in the heart
should be followed up by a feeling of complacency
in the heart, that in every virtuous affection of the
soul there should be so much to gladden and har
monize it, that there should always be peace within
when there is conscious purity or rectitude within ;
and, on the other hand, that malignity and licen
tiousness, and the sense of any moral transgression
whatever, should always have the effect of discom
forting, and sometimes even of agonizing the spirit

51 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
of man — that such should be the actual workman
ship and working of our nature, speaks most dis
tinctly, we apprehend, for the general righteousness
of Him who constructed its machinery and estab
lished its laws. An omnipotent patron of vice
would have given another make, and a moral system
with other and opposite tendencies, to the creatures
whom he had formed. He would have established
different sequences; and, instead of that oil of
gladness which now distils, as if from a secret spring
of satisfaction, upon the upright — and, instead of
that bitterness and disquietude which are now the
obvious attendants on every species of delinquency,
— we should have had the reverse phenomena of a
reversely constituted species, whose minds were
in their state of wildest disorder, when kindling
with the resolves of highest excellence ; or were
in their best and happiest, and most harmonious
mood, when brooding over the purposes of dishon
esty, or frenzied with the passions of hatred and
revenge. 25. In this special track of observation, we have
at least the means or data for constructing a far
more satisfactory demonstration of the divine at
tributes, than can possibly be gathered, we think;
from the ambiguous phenomena of the external
world. In other words, it will be found that the
mental phenomena speak more distinctly and de
cisively for the character of God than do the
material phenomena of creation. And it should

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 55
not be forgotten, that whatever serves to indicate
the character, serves also to confirm the existence,
of the Divine Being. For this character, whose
signatures are impressed on Nature, is not an
abstraction, but must have residence in a concrete
and substantive Being, who hath communicated a
transcript of Himself to the workmanship of His
own hands. It is thus, that, although in our
assigned department there is greater poverty of
evidence for a God, in as far as that evidence is
grounded on a skilful disposition of parts, — yet,
in respect of another kind of evidence, there is no
such poverty ; for, greatly more replete as we hold
our special department to be with the unequivocal
tokens of a moral character, we, by that simple
but strong ligament of proof which connects a
character with an existence, can, in the study of
mind alone, find a firm stepping-stone to the exist
ence of a God. Our universe is sometimes termed
the mirror of Him who made it. But the optical
reflection, whatever it may be, must be held as
indicating the reality which gave it birth ; and,
whether we discern there the expression of a reign
ing benevolence, or a reigning justice, these must
not be dealt with as the aerial or the fanciful per
sonifications of qualities alone, but as the substan
tial evidences of a just and benevolent, and, withal,
a living God.
26. But, in the prosecution of our assigned
task, we shall, after all, meet with much of that

56 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
evidence, which lies in the manifold, and, withal,
happy conjunction of many individual things, by
the meeting together of which, some distinctly
beneficial end is accomplished, brought about in
that one way, and in no other. For it ought fur
ther to be recollected, that, simple as the consti
tution of the human mind is, and proportionally
unfruitful, therefore, as it may be of that argu
ment for a God, which is founded on the right
assortment and disposition of many parts, or even
of many principles — yet, on studying the precise
terms of the commission which has been put into
our hands, it will be found that the materials even
of this peculiar argument lie abundantly within
our province. For it is not strictly the mental
constitution of man which forms the subject of
our prescribed essay, but the adaptation to that
constitution of external nature. We have to de
monstrate, not so much that the mind is rightly
constituted in itself, as that the mind is rightly
placed in a befitting theatre for the exercise of its
powers. It is to demonstrate that the world and
its various objects are suited to the various capa
cities of this inhabitant — this moral and intelligent
creature, of whom we have to prove that the things
which are around him bear a fit relation to the
laws or the properties which are within him.
There is ample room here for the evidence of
collocation. Yet there remains this distinction
between the mental and the corporeal economy of

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 57
man, that whereas the evidence is more rich and
manifold in the bodily structure itself, than even in
its complex and numerous adaptations to the outer
world* — the like evidence, in our peculiar depart
ment, is meagre, as afforded by the subjective
mind, when compared with the evidence of its
various adjustments and fitnesses to the objective
universe around it, whether of man's moral con
stitution to the state of human society, or of his
intellectual to the various objects of physical in
vestigation. . 27. The great object of philosophy is to ascer
tain the simple or ultimate principles, into which
all the phenomena of nature may by analysis be
resolved. But it often happens that in this attempt
she stops short at a secondary law, which might
be demonstrated by further analysis to be itself a
complex derivative of the primitive or elementary
laws. Until this work of analysis be completed,
we shall often mistake what is compound for what
is simple, both in the philosophy of mind and the
philosophy of matter — being frequently exposed
to intractable substances or intractable phenomena
in both, which long withstand every effort that
science makes for their decomposition. It is thus
that the time is not yet come, and may never come,
* Yet Paley has a most interesting chapter on the adaptations
of external nature to the human framework, though the main
strength and copiousness of his argument lie in the anatomy of
the framework itself.

58 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
when we shall fully understand, what be all the
simple elements or simple laws of matter ; and
what be all the distinct elementary laws, or, as
they have sometimes been termed, the ultimate
facts in the constitution of the human mind. But
we do not need to wait for this communication*
ere we can trace, in either department, the wisdom
and beneficence of a Deity — for many are both
the material and the mental processes which might
be recognised as pregnant with utility, and so,
pregnant with evidence for a God, long before the
processes themselves are analyzed. The truth is,
that a secondary law, if it do not exhibit any addi-
tional proof of design, in a distinct useful principle,
exhibits that proof in a distinct and useful dispo.
sition of parts — for, generally speaking, a secon
dary law is the result of an operation by some
primitive law, in peculiar and new circumstances.
For example, the law of the tides is a secondary
law, resolvable into one more general and elemen
tary — even the law of gravitation. But we might
imagine a state of things, in which the discovery
of this connection would have been impossible,—
as a sky perpetually mantled with a cloudy enve-
lopement, which, while it did not intercept the
light either of the sun or moon, still hid these
bodies from our direct observation. In these cir
cumstances, the law of the tides and the law of
gravitation, though identical in themselves, could
not have been identified by us ; and so, we might

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 59
have ascribed this wholesome agitation of the sea
and of the atmosphere to a distinct power or prin
ciple in nature — affording the distinct indication
of both a kind and intelligent Creator. Now this
inference is not annihilated — it is not even en
feebled by the discovery in question ; for although
the good arising from tides in the ocean and tides
in the air, is not referable to a peculiar law — it is
at least referable to a peculiar collocation. And
this holds of all the useful secondary laws in the
material world. If they cannot be alleged in evi
dence for the number of beneficial principles in
nature — they can at least be alleged in evidence
for the number of nature's beneficial arrangements.
If they do not attest the multitude of useful pro
perties, they at the least attest the multitude of
useful parts in nature — and the skill, guided by
benevolence, which has been put forth in the dis
tribution of them. So that long ere the philosophy
of matter is perfected, or all its phenomena and
its secondary laws have been resolved into their
original and constituent principles — may we, in
their obvious and immediate utility alone, detect
as many separate evidences in nature as there are
separate facts in nature, for a wise and benevolent
Deity. 28. And the same will be found true of the
secondary laws in the mental world, which, if not
as many distinct beneficial principles in the con
stitution of the mind, are the effect of as many

60

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

distinct and beneficial arrangements in the objects
or circumstances by which it is surrounded. We
have not to wait the completion of its still more
subtle and difficult analysis, ere we come within
sight of those varied indications of benevolent
design which are so abundantly to be met with,
both in the constitution of the mind itself, and in
the adaptation thereto of external nature. Some
there are, for example, who contend that the laws
of taste are not primitive, but secondary ; that our
admiration of beauty in material objects is resolv
able into other and original emotions, and, more
especially, by means of the associating principle,
into our admiration of moral excellence. Let the
justness of this doctrine be admitted; and its only
effect on our peculiar argument is, that the bene
volence of God in thus multiplying our enjoyments,
instead of being indicated by a distinct law for
suiting the human mind to the objects which sur
round it, is indicated both by the distribution of
these objects and by their investment with such
qualities as suit them to the previous constitution
of the mind — that he hath pencilled them with the
very colours, or moulded them into the very shapes,
which suggest either the graceful or the noble of
human character; that he hath imparted to the
violet its hue of modesty, and clothed the lily in
its robe of purest innocence, and given to the trees
of the forest their respective attitudes of strength
or delicacy, and made the whole face of nature

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 61
one bright reflection of those virtues which the
mind and character of man had originally radiated.
If it be not by the implantation of a peculiar law
in mind, it is at least by a peculiar disposition of
tints and forms in external nature, that he hath
spread so diversified a loveliness over the panorama
of visible things ; and thrown so many walks of
enchantment around us ; and turned the sights and
the sounds of rural scenery into the ministers of so
much and such exquisite enjoyment ; and caused
the outer world of matter to image forth in such
profusion those various qualities, which at first had
pleased or powerfully affected us in the inner
world of consciousness and thought. It is by the
modifying operation of circumstances that a pri
mary is transmuted into a secondary law ; and if
the blessings which we enjoy under it cannot be
ascribed to the insertion of a distinct principle in
the nature of man, they can at least be ascribed to
a useful disposition of circumstances in the theatre
around him.
29. It is thus that philosophical discovery,
which is felt by many to enfeeble the argument
for a God, when it reduces two or more subordi
nate to simpler and anterior laws, does in fact
leave that argument as entire as before — for if, by
analysis, it diminish the number of beneficial pro
perties in matter, it replaces the injury which it
may be supposed to have done in this way to the
cause of theism, by presenting us with as great an

62 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
additional number of beneficial arrangements in
nature. And further, it may not be out of place
to observe, that there appear to be two distinct
ways by which an artificer might make manifest
the wisdom of his contrivances. He may either
be conceived of, as forming a substance, and en-
dowing it with the fit properties ; or as finding a
substance with certain given properties, and ar
ranging it into fit dispositions for the accomplish.
ment of some desirable end. Both the former and
the latter of these we ascribe to the divine artificer
— of whom we imagine, that He is the Creator as
well as the Disposer of all things. It is only the
latter that we can ascribe to the human artificer,
who creates no substance, and ordains no pro
perty ; but finds the substance with all its proper
ties ready made and put into his hands, as the raw
material out of which he fashions his implements
and rears his structures of various design and
workmanship. Now it is a commonly received,
and has indeed been raised into a sort of universal
maxim, that the highest property of wisdom is to
achieve the most desirable end, or the greatest
amount of good, by the fewest possible means, or
by the simplest machinery. When this test is ap
plied to the laws of nature — then we esteem it as
enhancing the manifestation of intelligence, that
one single law, as gravitation, should, as from a
central and commanding eminence, subordinate to
itself a whole host of most important phenomena ;

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 63
or that from one great and parent property, so vast
a family of beneficial consequences should spring.
And when the same test is applied to the disposi
tions, whether of nature or art — then it enhances
the manifestation of wisdom, when some great end
is brought about with a less complex or cumber
some instrumentality, as often takes place in the
simplification of machines, when, by the device of
some ingenious ligament or wheel, the apparatus
is made equally, perhaps more effective, whilst
less unwieldy or less intricate than before. Yet
there is one way in which, along with an exceed
ing complication in the mechanism, there might
be given the impression, of the very highest skill
and capacity having been put forth on the contriv
ance of it. It is when, by means of a very ope-
rose and complex instrumentality, the triumph of
art has been made all the more conspicuous, by a
very marvellous result having been obtained out
of very unpromising materials. It is true, that,
in this case too, a still higher impression of skill
would be given, if the same or a more striking
result were arrived at, even after the intricacy of
the machine had been reduced, by some happy
device, in virtue of which, certain of its parts or
circumvolutions had been superseded ; and thus,
without injury to the final effect, so much of the
complication had been dispensed with. Still, how
ever, the substance, whether of the machine or
the manufacture, may be conceived so very in-

64 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
tractable as to put an absolute limit on any fur
ther simplification, or as to create an absolute ne
cessity for all the manifold contrivance which had
been expended on it. When this idea predomi-
nates in the mind— then all the complexity which
we may behold does not reduce our admiration of
the artist, but rather deepens the sense that we
have, both of the reconditeness of his wisdom, and
of the wondrous vastness and variety of his re
sources. It is the extreme wideness of the con
trast, between the sluggishness of matter and the
fineness of the results in physiology, which so en-
hances our veneration for the great Architect of
Nature, when we behold the exquisite organiza
tions of the animal and vegetable kingdoms.* The
two exhibitions are wholly distinct from each other
— yet each of them may be perfect in its own way.
The first is held forth to us, when one law of per
vading generality is found to scatter a myriad of
beneficent consequences in its train. The second
is held forth, when, by an infinite complexity of
means, a countless variety of expedients, with their
multiform combinations, some one design, such as
the upholding of life in plants or animals, is ac
complished. Creation presents us in marvellous
profusion with specimens of both these — at once
confirming the doctrine, and illustrating the signifi-
* Dr. Paley would state the problem thus: The laws of
matter being given, so to organize it, as that it shall produce or
sustain the phenomena, whether of vegetation or of life.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 65
cancy of the expression in which Scripture hath
conveyed it to us, when it tells of the manifold
wisdom of God.
30. But while, on a principle already often re
cognised, this multitude of necessary conditions to
the accomplishment of a given end, enhances the
argument for a God, because each separate condi
tion reduces the hypothesis of chance to a more
violent improbability than before ; yet it must not
be disguised that there is a certain transcendental
mystery which it has the effect of aggravating, and
which it leaves unresolved. We can understand
the complex machinery and the circuitous pro
cesses to which a human artist must resort, that
he might overcome the else uncomplying obstinacy
of inert matter, and bend it in subserviency to his
special designs. But that the Divine Artist who
first created the matter and ordained its laws,
should find the same complication necessary for
the accomplishment of his purposes — that such an
elaborate workmanship, for example, should be
required to establish the functions of sight and
hearing in the animal economy — is very like the
lavish or ostensible ingenuity of a Being employed
in conquering the difficulty which himself had
raised. It is true, the one immediate purpose is
served by it which we have just noticed, — that of
presenting, as it were, to the eye of inquirers a
more manifold inscription of the Divinity. But
if, instead of being the object of inference, it
VOL. I. E

66 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
had pleased God to make himself the object of a
direct manifestation, then, for the mere purpose of
becoming known to his creatures, this reflex or
circuitous method of revelation would have been
altogether uncalled for. That under the actual
system of creation, and with its actual proofs, he
has made his existence most decisively known to
us, we most thankfully admit. But when question
is made between the actual and the conceivable
systems of creation which God might have ema
nated, we are forced to confess, that the very cir
cumstances which, in the existing order of things,
have brightened and enhanced the evidence of His
being, have also cast a deeper secrecy over what
may be termed the general policy of His govern
ment and ways. And this is but one of the many
difficulties, which men of unbridled speculation,
and unobservant of that sound philosophy that
keeps within the limits of human observation, will
find it abundantly possible to conjure up on the
field of natural theism. It does look an impracti
cable enigma, that the Omnipotent God, who could
have grafted all the capacities of thought and feel
ing on an elementary atom, should have deemed
fit to incorporate the human soul in the midst of
so curious and complicated a framework. For
what a variegated structure is man's animal eco
nomy. What an apparatus of vessels, and bones,
and ligaments. What a complex mechanism.
What an elaborate chemistry. What a multitude

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 67
of parts in the anatomy, and of processes in the
physiology, of this marvellous system. What a
medley, we had almost said, what a package of
contents. What an unwearied play of secretions,
and circulations, and other changes incessant and
innumerable. In short, what a laborious compli
cation ; and all to uphold a living principle, which,
one might think, could by a simple fiat of omnipo
tence, have sprung forth at once from the great
source and centre of the spiritual system, and.
mingled with the world of spirits — just as each
new particle of light is sent forth by the emanation
of a sunbeam, to play and glisten among fields of
radiance. 31. But to recall ourselves from this digression
among the possibilities of what might have been,
to the realities of the mental system, such as it
actually is. Ere we bring the very general obser
vations of this chapter to a close, we would briefly
notice an analogy between the realities of the
mental and those of the corporeal system. The
inquirers into the latter have found it of substantial
benefit to their science, to have mixed up with the
prosecution of it a reference to final causes. Their
reasoning on the likely uses of a part in anatomy,
has, in some instances, suggested or served as a
guide to speculations, which have been at length
verified by a discovery. We believe, in like man
ner, that reasoning on the likely or obvious uses
of a principle in the constitution of the human
E 2

68 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
mind, might lead, if not to the discovery, at least
to the confirmation of important truth — not per-
haps in the science itself, but in certain of the
cognate sciences which stand in no very distant
relation to it. For example, we think it should
rectify certain errors which have been committed
both in jurisprudence and political economy, if it
can be demonstrated that some of the undoubted
laws of human nature are traversed by them ; and
so, that violence is thereby done to the obvious
designs of the Author of Nature. We shall not
hold it out of place, though we notice one or two
of these instances, by which it might be seen that
the mental philosophy, when studied in connection
with the palpable views of Him by whom all its
principles and processes were ordained, is fitted to
enlighten the practice of legislation, and more
especially to determine the wisdom of certain
arrangements which have for their object the
economic wellbeing of society.
32. We feel the arduousness of our peculiar
task, and the feeling is not at all alleviated by our
sense of its surpassing dignity. The superiority of
mind to matter has often been the theme of elo
quence to moralists. For what were all the won
ders of the latter and all its glories, without a
spectator mind that could intelligently view and
that could tastefully admire them ? Let every
eye be irrevocably closed, and this were equivalent
to the entire annihilation in nature of the element

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 69
of light; and, in like manner, if the light of all
consciousness were put out in the world of mind,
the world of matter, though as rich in beauty, and
in the means of benevolence as before, were thereby
reduced to a virtual nonentity. In these circum
stances, the lighting up again of even but one mind
would restore its being, or at least its significancy,
to that system of materialism, which, untouched
itself, had just been desolated of all those beings
in whom it could kindle reflection, or to whom it
could minister the sense of enjoyment. It were
tantamount to the second creation of it — or, in
other words, one living intelligent spirit is of
higher reckoning and mightier import than a dead
universe.

PART I.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OP MAN.

CHAPTER I.
FIRST GENERAL ARGUMENT.
On the Supremacy of Conscience.
1. An abstract question in morals is distinct from
a question respecting the constitution of man's
moral nature ; and the former ought no more to
be confounded with the latter, than the truths of
geometry with the faculties of the reasoning mind
which comprehends them. The virtuousness of
justice was a stable doctrine in ethical science,
anterior to the existence of the species ; and would
remain so, though the species were destroyed — just
as much as the properties of a triangle are the en
during stabilities of mathematical science ; and
that, though no matter had been created to exem
plify the positions or the figures of geometry.
The objective nature of virtue is one thing. The
subjective nature of the human mind, by which
virtue is felt and recognised, is another. It is not

72 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
from the former, any more than from the eternal
truths of geometry, that we can demonstrate the
existence or attributes of God — but from the
latter, as belonging to the facts of a creation
emanating from His will, and therefore bearing
upon it the stamp of His character. The nature
and constitution of virtue form a distinct subject
of inquiry from the nature and constitution of the
human mind. Virtue is not a creation of the
Divine will, but has had everlasting residence in
the nature of the Godhead. The mind of man is
a creation ; and therefore indicates, by its charac
teristics, the character of Him, to the fiat and the
forthgoing of whose will it owes its existence. We
must frequently, in the course of this discussion;
advert to the principles of ethics ; but it is not on
the system of ethical doctrine that our argument
properly is founded. It is on the phenomena and
the laws of actual human nature, which itself, one
of the great facts of creation, may be regarded like
all its facts, as bearing on it . the impress of that
Mind which gave birth to creation.
2. But further. It is not only not with the
system of ethical doctrine — it is not even with the
full system of the philosophy of our nature, that we
have properly to do. On this last there is still a
number of unsettled questions ; but our peculiar
argument does not need to wait for the conclusive
determination of them. For example, there is
many a controversy among philosophers respecting

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 73
the primary and secondary laws of the human con
stitution. Now, if it be an obviously beneficial
law, it carries evidence for a God, in the mere
existence and operation of it, independently of the
rank which it holds, or of the relation in which it
stands to the other principles of our internal me
chanism. It is thus that there may, at one and
the same time, be grounded on the law in question
a clear theological inference ; and yet there may
be associated with it an obscure philosophical
speculation. It is well that we separate these two ;
and, more especially, that the decisive attestation
given by any part or phenomenon of our nature
to the Divine goodness, shall not be involved in
the mist and metaphysical perplexity of other rea
sonings, the object of which is altogether distinct
and separate from our own. The facts of the hu
man constitution, apart altogether from the philo
sophy of their causation, demonstrate the wisdom
and benevolence of Him who framed it : and while
it is our part to follow the light of this philosophy,
as far as the light and the guidance of it are sure,
we are not, in those cases, when the final cause is
obvious as day, though the proximate efficient
cause should be hidden in deepest mystery — we
are not, on this account, to confound darkness
with light, or light with darkness.
3. By attending throughout to this observation,
we shall be saved from a thousand irrelevancies as
well as obscurities of argument ; and it is an ob-

74 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
servation peculiarly applicable, in announcing that
great fact or phenomenon of mind, which, for
many reasons, should hold a foremost place in our
demonstration— we mean the felt supremacy of
conscience. Philosophers there are, who have
attempted to resolve this fact into ulterior or ulti
mate ones in the mental constitution ; and who
have denied to the faculty a place among its origi
nal and uncompounded principles. Sir James
Macintosh tells us of the generation of human
conscience ; and, not merely states, but endea
vours to explain the phenomenon of its felt supre
macy within us. Dr. Adam Smith also assigns a
pedigree to our moral judgments; but, with all
his peculiar notions respecting the origin of the
awards of conscience, he never once disputes their
authority ; or that, by the general consent of man
kind, this authority is, in sentiment and opinion at
least, conceded to them.* It is somewhat like an
* " Upon whatever," observes Dr. Adam Smith, " we suppose
our moral faculties to be founded, whether upon a certain modi
fication of reason, upon an original instinct called a moral sense,
or upon some other principle of our nature, it cannot be doubted
that they were given us for the direction of our conduct in this
life. They carry along with them the most evident badges of
this authority, which denote that they were set up within us to
be the supreme arbiters of all our actions, to superintend all our
senses, passions, and appetites, and to judge how far each of them
was either to be indulged or restrained. It is the peculiar office
of these faculties to judge, to bestow censure or applause upon
all the other principles of our nature." — Theory of Moral Senti
ments, Part iii. chap. v.

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 75
antiquarian controversy respecting the first forma
tion and subsequent historical changes of some
certain court of government, the rightful authority
of whose decisions and acts is, at the same time,
fully recognised. And so, philosophers have dis
puted regarding the court of conscience — of what
materials it is constructed, and by what line of
genealogy from the anterior principles of our na
ture it has sprung. Yet most of these have ad
mitted the proper . right of sovereignty which
belongs to it ; its legitimate place as the master
and the arbiter over all the appetites, and desires,
and practical forces of human nature. Or, if any
have dared the singularity of denying this, they do
so in opposition to the general sense and general
language of mankind, whose very modes of speech
compel them to affirm that the biddings of con
science are of paramount authority — its peculiar
office being to tell what all men should, or all men
ought to do.
4. The proposition, however, which we are now
urging, is not that the obligations of virtue are
binding, but that man has a conscience which
tells him that they are so — not that justice and
truth and humanity are. the dogmata of the ab
stract moral system, but that they are the dictates
of man's moral nature — not that in themselves
they are the constituent parts of moral rectitude,
but that there is a voice within every heart which
thus pronounces on them. It is not with the con-

76 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
stitution of morality, viewed objectively, as a system
or theory of doctrine, that we have properly to do ;
but with the constitution of man's spirit, viewed as
the subject of certain phenomena and laws— and,
more particularly, with a great psychological fact
in human nature ; namely, the homage rendered
by it to the supremacy of conscience. In a word,
it is not of a category, but of a creation that we
are speaking. The one can tell us nothing of the
Divine character, while the other might afford
most distinct and decisive indications of it. We
could found no demonstration whatever of the
Divine purposes, on a mere ethical, any more than
we could, on a logical or mathematical category.
But it is very different with an actual creation, whe-
ther in mind or in matter — a mechanism of obvious
contrivance, and whose workings and tendencies,
therefore, must be referred to the design, and so
to the disposition or character of that Being, whose
spirit hath devised, and whose fingers have framed
it. 5. And neither do we urge the proposition that
conscience has, in every instance, the actual direc
tion of human affairs, for this were in the face'of
all experience. It is not that every man obeys
her dictates, but that every man feels he ought to
obey them. These dictates are often in life and
practice disregarded: so that conscience is not
the sovereign de facto. Still there is a voice within
the hearts of all which asserts that conscience is

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 77
the sovereign de jure ; that to her belongs the
command rightfully, even though she do not pos
sess it actually. In a season of national anarchy,
the actual power and the legitimate authority are
often disjoined from each other. The lawful mon
arch may be dethroned, and so lose the might ;
while he continues to possess — nay, while he may
be acknowledged throughout his kingdom to pos
sess, the right of sovereignty. The distinction still
is made, even under this reign of violence, between
the usurper and the lawful sovereign ; and there
is a similar distinction among the powers and prin
ciples of the human constitution, when an insurrec
tion takes place of the inferior against the supe
rior ; and conscience, after being dethroned from
her place of mastery and control, is still felt to be
the superior, or rather supreme faculty of our na
ture notwithstanding. She may have fallen from
her dominion, yet still wear the badges of a fallen
sovereign, having the acknowledged right of au
thority, though the power of enforcement has
been wrested away from her. She may be out
raged in all her prerogatives by the lawless appe
tites of our nature, — but not without the accom
panying sense within of an outrage and a wrong
having been inflicted, and a reclaiming voice from
thence which causes itself to be heard and which
remonstrates against it. The insurgent and infe
rior principles of our constitution may, in the up
roar of their wild mutiny, lift a louder and more

78 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
effective voice than the small still voice of con-
science. They have the might, but not the right.
Conscience, on the other hand, is felt to have the
right, though not the might, — the legislative office
being that which properly belongs to her, though
the executive power should be wanting to enforce
her enactments. It is not the reigning but the
rightful authority of conscience that we, under
the name of her supremacy, contend for ; or, rather
the fact that, by the consent of all our higher
principles and feelings, this rightful authority is
reputed to be hers ; and, by the general concur
rence of mankind awarded to her.
6. And here it is of capital importance to dis
tinguish between an original and proper tendency,
and a subsequent aberration. This has been well
illustrated by the regulator of a watch, whose
office and primary design, and that obviously an
nounced by the relation in which it stands to the
other parts of the machinery, is to control the
velocity of its movements. And we should still
perceive this to have been its destination, even
though, by accident or decay, it had lost the
power of command which at the first belonged to
it. We should not misunderstand the purpose of
its maker, although, in virtue of some deteriora
tion or derangement which the machinery had
undergone, that purpose were now frustrated.
And we could discern the purpose in the very
make and constitution of the mechanism. We

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 79
might even see it to be an irregular watch ; and
yet this needs not prevent us from seeing, that, at
its original fabrication, it was made for the pur
pose of moving regularly. The mere existence
and position of the regulator might suffice to in
dicate this, — although it had become powerless,
either from the wearing of the parts, or from some
extrinsic disturbance to which the instrument had
been exposed. The regulator, in this instance,
may be said to have the right, though not the power
of command, over the movements of the time
piece ; yet the loss of the power has not obliter
ated the vestiges of the right ; so that, by the in
spection of the machinery alone, we both learn the
injury which has been done to it, and the condition
in which it originally came from the hand of its
maker — a condition of actual as well as rightful
supremacy, on the part of the regulator, over all
its movements. And a similar discovery may be
made, by examination of the various parts and prin
ciples which make up the moral system of man :
for we see various parts and principles there. We
see Ambition, having power for its object, and with
out the attainment of which it is not satisfied ; and
Avarice, having wealth for its object, without the
attainment of which it is not satisfied; and Bene
volence, having for its object the good of others,
without the attainment of which it is not satisfied;
and the love of Reputation, having for its object
their applause, without which it is not satisfied ;

80 THE. SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
and lastly, to proceed no further in the enumera-
tion, Conscience, which surveys and superintends
the whole man, whose distinct and appropriate
object it is to have the entire control both of his
inward desires and outward doings, and without
the attainment of this it is thwarted from its pro-
per aim, and remains unsatisfied. Each appetite,
or affection of our nature, has its own distinct
object ; but this last is the object of Conscience,
which may be termed the moral affection. The
place which it occupies, or rather which it is felt
that it should occupy, and which naturally belongs
to it, is that of a governor, claiming the superi
ority, and taking to itself the direction, over all the
other powers and passions of humanity. If this
superiority be denied to it, there is a felt violence
done to the whole economy of man. The senti
ment is, that the thing is not as it should be : and
even after conscience is forced, in virtue of some
subsequent derangement, from this station of right
ful ascendency, we can still distinguish between
what is the primitive design or tendency, and
what is the posterior aberration. We can per
ceive, in the case of a deranged and distempered
watch, that the mechanism is out of order; but
even then, on the bare examination of its work
manship, and more especially from the place and
bearing of its regulator, can we pronounce that it
was made for moving regularly. And in like
manner, on the bare inspection of our mental

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 81
economy alone, and more particularly from the
place which conscience has there, can we, even
in the case of the man who refuses to obey its
dictates, affirm that he was made for walking con
scientiously. 7- The distinction which we now labour to
establish between conscience and the other prin
ciples of our nature, does not respect the actual
force or prevalence which may, or may not, sever
ally belong to them. It respects the universal
judgment which, by the very constitution of our
nature, is passed on the question of Tightness — on
the question, which of all these should have the
prevalence, whenever there happens to be a con
test between them. All which we affirm is, that
if conscience prevail over the other principles,
then every man is led, by the very make and
mechanism of his internal economy, to feel that
this is as it ought to be ; or, if these others pre
vail over conscience, that this is not as it ought to
be. One, it is generally felt, may be too ambi
tious, or too much set on wealth and fame, or too
resentful of injury, or even too facile in his bene
volence, when carried to the length of being inju
dicious and hurtful ; but no one is ever felt, if he
have sound and enlightened views of morality,
to be too conscientious. When we affirm this of
conscience, we but concur in the homage rendered
to it by all men, as being the rightful, if not the
actual superior, among all the feelings and facul-
vol. 1. F

82 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
ties of our nature. It is a truth, perhaps, too
simple for being reasoned; but this is because,
like many of the most important and undoubted
certainties of human belief, it is a truth of instant
recognition. When stating the supremacy of con-
science, in the sense that we have explained it, we
but state what all men feel ; and our only argu-
ment, in proof of the assertion, is — our only argu
ment can be, an appeal to the experience of all
men. .u<
8. Bishop Butler has often been spoken of as
the first discoverer of this great principle in our
nature ; though, perhaps, no man can properly
be said to discover what all men are conscious
of. But certain it is, that he is the first who hath
made it the subject of a full and reflex cognizance.
It forms the argument of his three first sermons,
in a volume which may safely be pronounced, the
most precious repository of sound ethical princi
pies extant in any language. The authority of
conscience, says Dugald Stewart, " although beau
tifully described by many of the ancient moralists,
was not sufficiently attended to by modern writers;
as a fundamental principle in the science of ethics
till the time of Dr. Butler." It belongs to the
very essence of the principle, that we clearly dis
tinguish, between what we find to be the actual
force of conscience, and what we feel to be its
rightful authority. These two may exist in a state
of separation from each other, just as in a Civil

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 83
Government, the reigning power may, in seasons
of anarchy, be dissevered from that supreme court
or magistrate to whom it rightfully belongs. The
mechanism of a political fabric is not adequately
or fully described by the mere enumeration of its
parts. There must also enter into the description,
the relation which the parts bear to each other ;
and more especially, the paramount relation of
rightful ascendency and direction, which that part,
in which the functions of Government are vested,
bears to the whole. Neither is the mechanism of
man's personal constitution fully or adequately
described, by merely telling us in succession the
several parts of which it is composed — as the pas
sions, and the appetites, and the affections, and
the moral sense, and the intellectual capacities,
which make up this complex and variously gifted
creature. The particulars of his mental system
must not only be stated, each in their individu
ality ; but the bearing or connection which each
has with the rest — else it is not described as a
system at all. In making out this description, we
should not only not overlook the individual faculty
of conscience, but we must not overlook its relative
place among the other feelings and faculties of our
nature. That place is the place of command.
What conscience lays claim to is the mastery or
regulation over the whole man. Each desire of
our nature rests or terminates in its own appro
priate object, as the love of fame in applause, or
F 2

84 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.,
hunger in food, or revenge in the infliction of pain
upon its object, or affection for another in the
happiness and company of the beloved individuals
But the object of the moral sense is to arbitrate
and direct among all these propensities. It claims
the station and the prerogative of a mistress over
them. Its peculiar office is that of superintend.
ence, and there is a certain feeling of violence or
disorder, when the mandates which it issues in
this capacity are not carried into effect. Every
affection in our nature is appeased by the object
that is suited to it. The object of conscience is
the subordination of the whole to its dictates.
Without this it remains unappeased, and as if bereft
of its rights. It is not a single faculty, taking its
own separate and unconnected place among the
other feelings and faculties which belong to us.
Its proper place is that of a guide or a governor.
It is the ruling power in our nature ; and its pro-
per, its legitimate business, is to prescribe that man
shall be as he ought, and do as he ought. But
instead of expatiating any further at present in
language of our own, let us here admit a few brief
sentences from Butler himself, that great and in-
valuable expounder both of the human constitution,
and of moral science. " That principle by which
we survey, and either approve or disapprove our
own heart, temper, and actions, is not only to be
considered as what in its turn is to have some in-
fluence, which may be said of every passion, of the

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 85
basest appetites : but likewise as being superior ;
as from its very nature manifestly claiming superi
ority over all others : insomuch that you cannot
form a notion of this faculty conscience, without
taking in judgment, direction and superintendency.
This is a constituent part of the idea, that is, of the
faculty itself: and to preside and govern, from the
very economy and constitution of man, belongs to
it. Had it strength, as it has right ; had it power,
as it has manifest authority ; it would absolutely
govern the world." " This faculty was placed
within us to be our proper governor ; to direct and
regulate all under principles, passions, and motives
of action. This is its right and office. Thus sa
cred is its authority. And how often soever men
violate and rebelliously refuse to submit to it, for
supposed interest which they cannot otherwise ob
tain, or for the sake of passion which they cannot
otherwise gratify ; this makes no alteration as to
the natural right and office of conscience."
9. Now it is in these phenomena of Conscience
that Nature offers to us, far her strongest argu
ment, for the moral character of God. Had He
been an unrighteous Being himself, would He
have given to this the obviously superior faculty
in man, so distinct and authoritative a voice on
the side of righteousness? Would He have so
constructed the creatures of our species, as to
have planted in every breast a reclaiming witness
against Himself? Would He have thus inscribed

86 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
on the tablet of every heart the sentence of His
own condemnation ; and is not this just as unlikely,
as that He should have inscribed it in written
characters on the forehead of each individual?
Would He so have fashioned the workmanship of
His own hands ; or, if a God of cruelty, injustice,
and falsehood, would He have placed in the sta-
tion of master and judge that faculty which, felt
to be the highest in our nature, would prompt a
generous and high-minded revolt of all our senti
ments against the Being who formed us? From
a God possessed of such characteristics, we should
surely have expected a differently-moulded hu-
manity ; or, in other words, from the actual con
stitution of man, from the testimonies on the side
of all righteousness, given by the vicegerent within
the heart, do we infer the righteousness of the
Sovereign who placed it there. He would never
have established a conscience in man, and invested
it with the authority of a monitor, and given to it
those legislative and judicial functions which it
obviously possesses; and then so framed it, that
all its decisions should be on the side of that virtue
which He Himself disowned, and condemnatory
of that vice which He Himself exemplified. This
is an evidence for the righteousness of God, which
keeps its ground, amid all the disorders and aber
rations to which humanity is liable ; and can no
more, indeed, be deafened or overborne by these,
than is the rightful authority of public opinion,

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 87
by the occasional outbreakings of iniquity and
violence which take place in society. This public
opinion may, in those seasons of misrule when
might prevails over right, be deforced from the
practical ascendency which it ought to have ; but
the very sentiment that it so ought, is our reason
for believing the world to have been originally
formed, in order that virtue might have the rule
over it. In like manner, when, in the bosom of
every individual man, we can discern a conscience,
placed there with the obvious design of being a
guide and a commander, it were difficult not to
believe, that, whatever the partial outrages may be
which the cause of virtue has to sustain, it has the
public mind of the universe in its favour; and
that therefore He, who is the Maker and the Ruler
of such a universe, is a God of righteousness.
Amid all the subsequent obscurations and errors,
the original design, both of a deranged watch and
of a deranged human nature, is alike manifest ;
first, of the maker of the watch, that its motions
should harmonize with time ; second, of the Maker
of man, that his movements should harmonize with
truth and righteousness. We can, in most cases,
discern between an aberration and an original law ;
between a direct or primitive tendency and the
effect of a disturbing force, by which that ten
dency is thwarted and overborne. And so of the
constitution of man. It may be now a loosened
and disproportioned thing, yet we can trace the

88 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
original structure — even as from the fragments of
a ruin, we can obtain the perfect model of a build*
ing from its capital to its base. It is thus that,
however prostrate conscience may have fallen, we
can still discern its place of native and original
pre-eminence, as being at once the legislator and
the judge in the moral system, though the execu*
tive forces of the system have made insurrection
against it, and thrown the whole into anarchy.
There is a depth of mystery in every thing con
nected with the existence or the origin of evil in
creation ; yet, even in the fiercest uproar of our
stormy passions, Conscience, though in her softest
whispers, gives to the supremacy of rectitude the
voice of an undying testimony ; and her light still
shining in a dark place, her unquelled accents still
heard in the loudest outcry of Nature's rebellious
appetites, form the strongest argument within
reach of the human faculties, that, in spite of all
partial or temporary derangements, Supreme Power
and Supreme Goodness are at one. It is true that
rebellious man hath, with daring footstep, trampled
on the lessons of Conscience ; but why, in spite
of man's perversity, is conscience, on the other
hand, able to lift a voice so piercing and so power
ful, by which to remonstrate against the wrong,
and to reclaim the honours that are due to her?
How comes it that, in the mutiny and uproar of
the inferior faculties, that faculty in man, which
wears the stamp and impress of the highest, should

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 89
remain on the side of truth and holiness ? Would
humanity have thus been moulded by a false and
evil spirit; or would he have committed such
impolicy against himself, as to insert in each
member of our species a principle which would
make him feel the greatest complacency in his
own rectitude, when he feels the most high-minded
revolt of indignation and dislike against the Being
who gave him birth ? It is not so much that
Conscience takes a part among the other faculties
of our nature ; but that Conscience takes among
them the part of a governor, and that man, if he
do not obey her suggestions, still, in despite of
himself, acknowledges her rights. It is a mighty
argument for the virtue of the governor above,
that all the laws and injunctions of the governor
below are on the side of virtue. It seems as if
He had left this representative, or remaining wit
ness, for Himself, in a world that had cast off its
allegiance ; and that, from the voice of the judge
within the breast, we may learn the will and the
character of Him who hath invested with such
authority his dictates. It is this which speaks as
much more demonstratively for the presidency of
a righteous God in human affairs, than for that
of impure or unrighteous demons, as did the rod
of Aaron, when it swallowed the rods of the en
chanters and magicians in Egypt. In the wildest
anarchy of man's insurgent appetites and sins,
there is still a reclaiming voice — a voice which,

90 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
even when in practice disregarded, it is impossible
not to own ; and to which, at the very moment
that we refuse our obedience, we find that we
cannot refuse the homage of what ourselves do
feel and acknowledge to be the best, the highest
principles of our nature.
10. However difficult from the very simplicity
of the subject it may be, to state or to reason the
argument for a God, which is founded on the
supremacy of conscience — still, historically and
experimentally, it will be found, that it is of more
force than all other arguments put together, for
originating and upholding the natural theism
which there is in the world. The theology of
conscience is not only of wider diffusion, but of
far more practical influence than the theology of
academic demonstration. The ratiocination by
which this theology is established, is not the: less
firm or the less impressive, that, instead of a
lengthened process, there is but one step between
the premises and the conclusion^or, that the felt
presence of a judge within the breast, powerfully
and immediately suggests the notion of a Supreme
Judge and Sovereign, who placed it there. Upon
this question, the mind does not stop short at mere
abstraction ; but, passing at once from the abstract
to the concrete, from the law of the heart, it makes
the rapid inference of a lawgiver. It is the very
rapidity of this inference which makes it appear.
like intuition ; and which has given birth to the

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 91
mystic theology of innate ideas. Yet the theology
of conscience disclaims such mysticism, built, as it
is, on a foundation of sure and sound reasoning ;
for the strength of an argumentation in nowise
depends upon the length of it. The sense of a
governing principle within, begets in all men the
sentiment of a living governor without and above
them, and it does so with all the speed of an
instantaneous feeling ; yet it is not an impression,
it is an inference notwithstanding — and as much
so as any inference from that which is seen, to
that which is unseen. There is, in the first in
stance, cognizance taken of a fact — if not by the
outward eye, yet as good, by the eye of conscious
ness, which has been termed the faculty of internal
observation. And the consequent belief of a God,
instead of being an instinctive sense of the Divinity,
is the fruit of an inference grounded on that fact.
There is instant transition made, from the sense of
a monitor within to the faith of a living Sovereign
above; and this argument, described by all, but
with such speed as almost to warrant the expres
sion of its being felt by all, may be regarded, not
withstanding the force and fertility of other con
siderations, as the great prop of natural religion
among men.
11. And we mistake, if we think it was ever
otherwise, even in the ages of darkest and most
licentious paganism. This theology of conscience
has often been greatly obscured, but never, in any

92 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
country or at any period in the history of the
world, has it been wholly obliterated. We behold
the vestiges of it in the simple theology of the
desert ; and, perhaps, more distinctly there, than
in the complex superstitions of an artificial and
civilized heathenism. In confirmation of this, we
might quote the invocations to the Great Spirit
from the wilds of North America. But, indeed,
in every quarter of the globe, where missionaries
have held converse with savages, even with the
rudest of Nature's children — when speaking on
the topics of sin and judgment, they did not speak
to them in vocables unknown. And as this sense
of a universal law and a Supreme Lawgiver never
waned into total extinction among the tribes of
ferocious and untamed wanderers — so neither was
it altogether stifled by the refined and intricate
polytheism of more enlightened nations. The
whole of classic authorship teems with allusions to
a Supreme Governor and Judge : and when the
guilty Emperors of Rome were tempest-driven by
remorse and fear, it was not that they trembled
before a spectre of their own imagination. When
terror mixed, which it often did, with the rage
and cruelty of Nero, it was the theology of con
science which haunted him. It was not the sug-
gestion of a capricious fancy which gave him the
disturbance— but a voice issuing from the deep
recesses of a moral nature, as stable and uniform
throughout the species as is the material structure

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 93
of humanity; and in. the lineaments of which we
may read that there is a moral regimen among
men, and therefore a moral Governor who hath
instituted, and who presides over it. Therefore it
was, that these imperial despots, the worst and
haughtiest of recorded monarchs, stood aghast at
the spectacle of their own worthlessness. It is
true, there is a wretchedness which naturally and
essentially belongs to a state of great moral un
hingement ; and this may account for their dis
comforts, but it will not account for their fears.
They may, because of this, have felt the torments
of a present misery. But whence their fears of a
coming vengeance ? They would not have trem
bled at nature's law, apart from the thought of
nature's Lawgiver. The imagination of an un
sanctioned law would no more have given disquie
tude, than the imagination of a vacant throne.
But the law, to their guilty apprehensions, bespoke
a judge. The throne of heaven, to their troubled
eye, was filled by a living monarch. Righteous
ness, it was felt, would not have been so enthroned
in the moral system of man, had it not been pre
viously enthroned in the system of the universe ;
nor would it have held such place and pre-emi
nence in the judgment of all spirits, had not the
Father of spirits been its friend and ultimate
avenger. This is not a local or geographical
notion. It is a universal feeling — to be found
wherever men are found, because interwoven with

94 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
the constitution of humanity. It is not, therefore,
the peculiarity of one creed, or of one country.
It circulates at large throughout the family of man.
We can trace it in the theology of savage life ; nor
is it wholly overborne by the artificial theologyof
a more complex and idolatrous paganism. Neither
crime nor civilization can extinguish it ; and,
whether in the " conscientia scelerum" of the
fierce and frenzied Cataline, or in the tranquil
contemplative musings of Socrates and Cicero, we
find the impression of at once a righteous and a
reigning Sovereign.
12. And it confirms still more our idea of a
government — -that conscience not only gives forth
her mandates with the tone and authority of a
Superior ; but, as if on purpose to enforce their
observance, thus follows them up with an obvious
discipline of rewards and punishments. It is
enough but to mention, on the one hand, that felt
complacency which is distilled, like some precious
elixir, upon the heart by the recollection of virtu
ous deeds and virtuous sacrifices ; and, on the
other hand, those inflictions of remorse, which are
attendant upon wickedness, and wherewith, as if
by the whip of a secret tormentor, the heart of
every conscious sinner is agonized. We discern
in these the natural sanctions of morality, and the
moral character of Him who hath ordained them.
We cannot otherwise explain the peace and. trium
phant satisfaction which spring from the conscious-

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 95
ness of well-doing — nor can we otherwise explain
the degradation, as well as bitter distress, which a
sense of demerit brings along with it. Our only
adequate interpretation of these phenomena is,
that they are the present remunerations or the
present chastisements of a God who loveth right
eousness, and who hateth iniquity. Nor do we
view them as the conclusive results of virtue and
vice, but rather as the tokens and the precursors
either of a brighter reward, or of a heavier ven
geance, that are coming. It is thus that the de
light of self-approbation, instead of standing alone,
brings hope in its train ; and remorse, instead of
standing alone, brings terror in its train. The
expectations of the future are blended with these
joys and sufferings of the present ; and all serve
still more to stamp an impression, of which traces
are to be found in every quarter of the earth — that
we live under a retributive economy, and that the
God who reigns over it takes a moral and judicial
cognizance of the creatures whom He hath formed.
13. What then are the specific injunctions of
conscience ? For on this question essentially de
pends every argument that we can derive from
this power or property of our nature, for the moral
character of God. If, on the one hand, the les
sons given forth by a faculty, which so manifestly
claims to be the pre-eminent and ruling faculty of
our nature, be those of deceit, and licentiousness,
and cruelty — then, from the character of such a

96 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
law, should we infer the character of the lawgiver;
and so feel the conclusion to be inevitable, that we
are under the government of a malignant and un:
righteous God, at once the patron of vice and the
persecutor of virtue in the world. If, on the other
hand, temperance, and chastity, and kindness, and
integrity, and truth, be the mandates which gene
rally, if not invariably, proceed from her — then,
on the same principles of judgment, should we
reckon that He, who is the author of conscience;
and who gave it the place of supremacy and
honour, which it so obviously possesses in the
moral system of man, was himself the friend and
the exemplar of all those virtues which enter into
the composition of perfect moral rectitude. In
the laws and the lessons of human conscience,
would we study the character of the Godhead,
just as we should study the views and dispositions
of a monarch, in the instructions given by him to
the viceroy of one of his provinces. If, on the
one hand, virtue be prescribed by the authority of
conscience, and followed up by her approval, in
which very approval there is felt an inward satis*
faction and serenity of spirit, that of itself forms a
most delicious reward ; and if, on the other hand,
the perpetrations of wickedness are followed up by
the voice of her rebuke, in which, identical with
remorse, there is a sting of agony and discomfort,
amounting to the severest penalty — then, are we
as naturally disposed to infer of Him who ordained

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 97
such a mental constitution, that He is the righteous
Governor of men, as if, seated on a visible throne
in the midst of us, He had made the audible pro
clamation of His law, and by His own immediate
hand had distributed of His gifts to the obedient,
and inflicted chastisements on the rebellious. The
law of conscience may be regarded as comprising
all those virtues which the hand of the Deity hath
inscribed on the tablet of the human heart, or on
the tablet of natural jurisprudence ; and an argu
ment for these being the very virtues which char
acterize and adorn himself, is that they must have
been transcribed from the prior tablet of His own
nature. 14. We are sensible that there is much to ob
scure this inference in the actual circumstances of
the world. More especially — it has been alleged,
on the side of scepticism, that there is an exceed
ing diversity of moral judgments among men ;
that, out of the multifarious decisions of the human
conscience, no consistent code of virtue can be
framed ; and that, therefore, no consistent char
acter can be ascribed to Him, who planted this
faculty in the bosom of our species, and bade it
speak so uncertainly and so variously.* But to
* On the uniformity of our moral judgments, we would refer
to the 74th and 75th of Dr. Brown's Lectures on the Philosophy
of the Human Mind. " If we bear in mind," says Sir James
Mackintosh, " that the question relates to the coincidence of all
men in considering the same qualities as virtues, and not to the
VOL. I. G

98 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
this it maybe answered, in the first place, that the
apparent diversity is partly reducible into the
blinding, or, at least, the distorting effect of pas-
sion and interest, which sometimes are powerful
enough to obscure our perception, even of mathe
matical and historical truths, as well as of moral
distinctions ; and without therefore affecting the
stability of either. It is thus, for example, that
mercantile cupidity has blinded many a reckless
adventurer to the enormous injustice of the slave-
trade ; that passion and interest together have
transmuted revenge into a virtue ; and that the
robbery, which, if prosecuted only for the sake of
individual gain, would have appeared to all under
an aspect of most revolting selfishness, puts on the
guise of patriotism, when a whole nation deliber
ates on the schemes, or is led by a career of daring
and lofty heroism, to the spoliations of conquest.
In all such cases, it is of capital importance to
distinguish between the real character of any
criminal action, when looked to calmly, compre-
hensively, and fully ; and what that is in the action
which the perpetrator singles out and fastens upon
preference of one class of virtues by some, and of a different class
by others, the exceptions from the agreement of mankind, in their
systems of practical morality, will be reduced to absolute insigni
ficance ; and we shall learn to view them as no more affecting
the harmony of the moral faculties, than the resemblance of the
limbs and features is affected by monstrous conformations, or
by the unfortunate effects of accident and disease in a very few
individuals."

THE -SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 99
as hi§ plea, when he is either defending it to others,
or reconciling it to his own conscience. In as far
as he knows the deed to be incapable of vindica
tion* and yet rushes on the performance of it, there
is but delinquency of conduct incurred, not a di
versity of moral judgment; nor does Conscience,
in this case, at all betray any caprice or uncertainty
in her decisions. It is but the conduct, and not
the conscience, which is in fault j and to deter
mine whether the latter is in aught chargeable with
fluctuation, we must look not to the man's perform
ance, but to his plea. Two men may differ as to
the moral character of an action ; but if each is
resting the support of his own view on a different
principle from the other, there may still be a per
fect uniformity of moral sentiment between them.
They own the authority of the same laws ; they
only disagree in the application of them. In the
first place, the most vehement denouncer of a guilty
commerce is at one with the most strenuous of its
advocates, on the duty which each man owes to
his family ; and, again, neither of them would
venture to maintain the lawfulness of the trade,
because of the miseries inflicted by it on those
wretched sufferers who were its victims. The
defender .of this ruthless and rapacious system
disowns not, in sentiment at least, however much
he may disown in practice, the obligations of jus
tice and humanity — nay, in all the palliations
which he attempts of ihe enormity in question,
g 2

100 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
he speaks of these as undoubted virtues, and ren-
ders the homage of his moral acknowledgments
to them all. In the sophistry of his vindication,
the principles of the ethical system are left un
touched and entire. He meddles not with the
virtuousness either of humanity or justice ; but he
tells of the humanity of slavery, and the justice of
slavery. It is true, that he heeds not the repre
sentations which are given of the atrocities of his
trade — that he does not attend because he wills
not to attend ; and in this there is practical unfair-
ness. Still it but resolves itself into perversity of
conduct, and not into perversity of sentiment.
The very dread and dislike he has for the informa
tions of the subject, are symptoms of a feeling that
his conscience cannot be trusted with the question;
or, in other words, prove him to be possessed of a
conscience which is just like that of other men.
The partialities of interest and feeling may give
rise to an infinite diversity of moral judgments in
our estimate of actions ; while there may be the
most perfect uniformity and stability of judgment
in our estimate of principles : and, on all the great
generalities of the ethical code, Conscience may
speak the same language, and own one and the
same moral directory all the world over.
15. When consciences then pronounce differ
ently of the same action, it is for the most part,
or rather, it is almost always, because under
standings view it differently. It is either because

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 101
the controversialists are regarding it with unequal
degrees of knowledge; or, each, through the
medium of his own partialities. The consciences
of all would come forth with the same moral de
cision, were all equally enlightened in the circum
stances, or in the essential relations and conse
quences of the deed in question ; and, what is
just as essential to this uniformity of judgment,
were all viewing it fairly as well as fully. It
matters not, whether it be ignorantly or wilfully,
that each is looking to this deed, but in the one
aspect, or in the one relation, that is favourable to
his ow*-peculiar sentiment. In either case, the
diversity of judgment on the moral qualities of
the same action, is just as little to be wondered at
as a similar diversity on the material qualities of
the same object — should any of the spectators
labour under an involuntary defect of vision, or
voluntarily persist either in shutting or in averting
his eyes. , It is thus that a quarrel has well been
termed a misunderstanding, in which each of the
combatants may consider, and often honestly con
sider, himself to be in the right; and that, on
reading the hostile memorials of two parties in a
litigation, we can perceive no difference in their
moral principles, but only in their historical state
ments; and that, in the public manifestoes of na
tions when entering upon war, we can discover no
trace of a contrariety of conflict in their ethical
systems, but only in their differently put or differ-

102 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
ently coloured representations of fact — all proving*
that, with the utmost diversity of judgment among
men respecting the moral qualities of the same
thing, there may be a perfect identity of structure
in their moral organs notwithstanding ; and that
Conscience, true to her office, needs but to be
rightly informed, that she may speak the same
language, and give forth the same lessons* in all
the countries of the earth.
16. It is this which explains the moral pecu-
liarities of different nations. It is not that justice,
humanity, and gratitude, are not the canonized
virtues of every region ; or that falsehood, cruelty*
and fraud, would not, in their abstract and unas-
sbciated nakedness, be viewed as the objects of
moral antipathy and rebuke. It is, that in one
and the same material action, when looked to in
all the lights of which, whether in reality or by
the power of imagination* it is susceptible* vari>
ous, nay, opposite moral characteristics may be
blended ; and that while One people look to the
good only without the evil, another may look to
the evil only without the good. And thus the idem
tical acts which in one nation are the subjects of a
most reverent and religious observance, may in an
other be regarded with a shuddering sense of abo
mination and horror. And this, not because of any
difference in what may be termed the moral cate
gories of the 'two people, nor because, if moral
principles in their unmixed generality were offered

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 103
to the contemplation of either, either would call
evil good, or good eviL When theft was publicly
honoured and rewarded in Sparta, it was not be
cause theft in itself was reckoned a good thing ;
but because patriotism, and dexterity, and those
services by which the interests of patriotism might
be supported, were reckoned to be. good things.
When the natives of Hindostan assemble with de
light around the agonies of a human sacrifice, it
is not because they hold it good to rejoice in a
spectacle of pain ; but because they hold it good
to rejoice in a spectacle of heroic devotion to the
memory of the dead. When parents are exposed
or children are destroyed, it is not because it is
deemed to be right that there should be the inflic
tion of misery for its own sake ; but because it is
deemed to be right that the wretchedness of old
age should be curtailed, or that the world should
be saved from the miseries of an over-crowded
species. In a word, in the very worst of these
anomalies, some form of good may be detected,
which has led to their establishment; and still,
some universal and undoubted principle of mo
rality, however perverted or misapplied, can be
alleged in vindication of them. A people may be
deluded by their ignorance ; or misguided by their
superstition; or, not only hurried into wrong
deeds, but even fostered into wrong sentiments,
under the influences of that cupidity or revenge,
which are so perpetually operating in the warfare

104 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
of savage or demisavage nations. Yet, in spite of
all the topical moralities to which these have' given
birth, there is an unquestioned and universal
morality notwithstanding. And in every case,
where the moral sense is unfettered by these
associations, and the judgment is uncramped,
either by the partialities of interest, or by the
inveteracy of national customs which habit and
antiqiiity have rendered sacred — Conscience is
found to speak the same language ; nor, to the
remotest ends of the world, is there a country or
an island, where the same uniform and consistent
voice is not heard from her. Let the mists of
ignorance and passion and artificial education be
only cleared away ; and the moral attributes of
goodness and righteousness and truth be seen un-
distorted, and in their own proper guise; and
there is not a heart or a conscience throughout
earth's teeming population, which could refuse to
do them homage. And it is precisely because
the Father of the human family has given such
hearts and consciences to all His children, that
we infer these to be the very sanctities of the
Godhead, the very attributes of His own primeval
nature. 17. There is a countless diversity of tastes in
the world, because of the infinitely various cir
cumstances and associations of men. Yet is there
a stable and correct standard of taste notwith
standing, to which all minds, that have the benefit

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 105
of culture and enlargement, are gradually assimi
lating and approximating. It holds far more
emphatically true, that, in spite of the diversity of
moral judgments, which are vastly less wide and
numerous than the former, there is a fixed stand
ard of morals, rallying around itself all consciences,
to the. greater principles of which, a full and una
nimous homage is rendered from every quarter
of the globe ; and even to the lesser principles
and modifications of which, there is a growing and
gathering consent, with every onward step in the
progress of light and civilization. In proportion
as the understandings of men become more en
lightened, do their consciences become more ac
cordant with each other. Even now there is not
a single people on the face of the earth, among
whom barbarity and licentiousness and fraud are
deified as virtues, — where it does not require the
utmost strength, whether of superstition or of
patriotism in its most selfish and contracted form,
to uphold the delusion. Apart from these local,
and, we venture to hope, these temporary excep
tions, the same moralities are recognised and hon
oured; and, however prevalent in practice, in
sentiment at least, the same vices are disowned
and execrated all the world over. In proportion
as superstition is dissipated, and prejudice is gra
dually weakened by the larger intercourse of na
tions, these moral peculiarities do evidently wear
away; till at length, if, we may judge from the

106 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
obvious tendency of things, conscience will, in the
full manhood of our species, assert the universality
and the unchangeableness of her decisions. There
is no speech nor language where her voice is not
heard; her line is gone out through all the earth;
and her words to the ends of the world.
18. On the whole then, conscience, whether it
be an original or a derived faculty, yet as founded
on human nature, if not forming a constituent part
of it, may be regarded as a faithful witness for
God the author of that nature, and as rendering
to His character a consistent testimony. It is not
necessary, for the establishment of our particular
lesson, that we should turn that which is clear
into that which is controversial by our entering
into the .scientific question respecting the physical
origin of conscience, or tracing the imagined pedi
gree of its descent from simpler or anterior prin
ciples in the constitution of man. For, as has
been well remarked by Sir James Mackintosh—
" If conscience be inherent, that circumstance is,
according to the common mode of thinking, a suf
ficient proof of its title to veneration. But if pro
vision be made, in the constitution and circum
stances of all men, for uniformity, producing it by
processes similar to those which produce other
acquired sentiments, may not our reverence be
augmented by admiration of that supreme wisdom,
which, in such mental contrivances, yet more
highly than in the lower world of matter, accom-

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 107
plishes mighty purposes by instruments so simple ?"
It is not therefore the physical origin, but the fact,
of the uniformity of conscience, wherewith is con
cerned the theological inference that we attempt
to draw from it. This ascendant faculty of our
nature, which has been so often termed the divinity
within us, notwithstanding the occasional sophis
try of the passions, is, on the whole, representative
of the Divinity above us ; and the righteousness
and goodness and truth, the lessons of which it
gives forth every where, may well be regarded,
both as the laws which enter into the juridical
constitution, and as the attributes which enter into
the moral character of God.
19. We admit a considerable diversity of moral
observation in the various countries of the earth,
but without admitting any correspondent diversity
of moral sentiment between them. When human
sacrifices are enforced and applauded in one na
tion — this is not because of their cruelty, but not
withstanding of their cruelty^ Even there the
universal principle of humanity would be acknow
ledged, that it were wrong to inflict a wanton and
uncalled for agony on any of our fellows — but
there is a local superstition which counteracts the
universal principle, and overbears it. When in
the republic of Sparta, theft, instead of being exe
crated as a crime, was dignified into an art and an
accomplishment, and on that footing admitted
into the system of their youthful education — it

108 THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE.
was not because of its infringement on the rights
of property, but notwithstanding of that infringe
ment, and only because a local patriotism made
head against the universal principle, and prevailed
over it. Apart from such disturbing forces) as
these, it will be found that the sentiments of men
gravitate towards one and the same standard, all
over the globe ; and that, when once the obscura
tions of superstition and selfishness are dissipated,
there will be found the same moral light in every
mind, a recognition of the same moral law, as the
immutable and eternal code of righteousness for
all countries and all ages. The following is the
noble testimony of a heathen, who tells us with
equal eloquence and truth, that, even amid all, the
perversities of a vitiated and endlessly diversified
creed, conscience sat mistress over the whole earth;
and asserted the supremacy of her own unalterable
obligations. " Est quidem vera lex, recta ratio,
naturae congruens, diffusa in omnes, constans,
sempiterna, qua? vocet ad officium jubendo, vetan-
do a fraude deterreat ; quae tamen neque probos
frustra jubet aut vetat, nee improbos jubendo aut
vetando mo vet. Huic legi nee obrogarifas est,
neque derogari ex hac aliquid licet, neque. tota
abrogari potest. Nee vero, aut per senatum aut
per populum solvi hac lege possumus. Neque est
quasrendus explanator aut interpres ejus alius.
Nee erit alia lex Romae, alia Athenis, alia nunc,
alia posthac ; sed et omnes gentes, et omni tern-

THE SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 109
pore, una lex et sempiterna et immortalis conti-
nebit ; unusque erit communis quasi magister, et
imperator omnium Deus ille, legis hujus inventor,
disceptator, lator ; cui qui non parebit, ipse se
fugiet, ac naturam hominis aspernabitur, atque
hoc ipso luet maximas pcenas, etiam si caetera sup-
plicia quae putantur effugerit."
20. Such then is our first argument for the
moral character of God — even the moral character
of the law of conscience ; that conscience which
He hath inserted among the faculties of our na
ture ; and armed with the felt authority of a mas
ter ; and furnished with sanctions for the enforce
ment of its dictates ; and so framed, that, apart
from local perversities of the understanding or the
habits, all its decisions are on the side of right
eousness. The inference is neither a distant nor
an obscure one, from the character of such a law
to the character of its lawgiver. Neither is it an
inference, destroyed by the insurrection which has
taken place on the part of our lower faculties, or
by the actual prevalence of vice in the world.
For this has only enabled conscience to come
forth with another and additional demonstration
of its sovereignty — just as the punishment of crime
in society bears evidence to the justice of the
government which is established there. In gen
eral, the inward complacency felt by the virtuous,
does not so impressively bespeak the real purpose
and character of this the ruling faculty in man, as

110 THE SUPREMACY .OF CONSCIENCE^
do the remorse, and the terror, and the bitter dis*
satisfaction, wherewith the hearts of the wicked
are exercised. It is true, that, by every act of
iniquity, outrage is done to the law of conscience;
but there is a felt reaction within, which tells that
the outrage is resented ; and then it is that con-
science makes most emphatic assertion of its high
prerogative, when, instead of coming forth as the
benign and generous dispenser of its rewards to
the obedient, it comes forth like an offended moo-
arch in the character of an avenger. Were we
endowed with prophetic vision, so as to behold^
among the yet undisclosed secrets of futurity, the
spectacle of a judge, and a judgment-seat, and an
assembled world, and the retributions of pleasure
and pain to the good and to the evil — this were
fetching from afar an argument for the righteous
ness of God. But the instant pleasure and the
instant pain wherewith conscience follows up the
doings of man, brings this very argument within
the limits of actual observation. Only, instead
of being manifested by the light of a preternatural
revelation, it is suggested to us by one of the most
familiar certainties of experience ; for in these phe
nomena and feelings of our own moral nature, do
we behold not only a present judgment, but a
present execution of the sentence.

Ill

CHAPTER II.
SECOND GENERAL ARGUMENT.
On the inherent Pleasure of the Virtuous, and
Misery of the Vicious Affections.
1. We are often told by moralists, that there is
a native and essential happiness in moral worth ;
and a like native and essential wretchedness in
moral depravity — insomuch that the one may be
regarded as its own reward, and the other as its
own punishment. We do not always recollect
that this happiness on the one hand, and this misery
on the other, are each of them made up, severally
of distinct ingredients ; and that thus, by mental
analysis, we might strengthen our argument both
for the being and the character of God. When
we discover, that, into this alleged happiness of the
good there enter more enjoyments than one, we
thereby obtain two or more testimonies of the
Divine regard for virtue; and the proof is enhanced,
in the same peculiar way that the evidence of de
sign is, in any other department of creation, when
we perceive the concurrence of so many separate
and independent elements, which meet together

112 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
for the production of some complex and beneficial
result.* 2. We have already spoken of one such ingre
dient. There is a felt satisfaction in the thought
of having done what we know to be right ; and,
in counterpart to this complacency of self-appro-
bation, there is a felt discomfort, amounting often
to bitter and remorseful agony, in the thought of
having done what conscience tells us to be wrong.
This implies a sense of the rectitude of what is
virtuous. But without thinking of its rectitude at
all, without viewing it in reference either to the
law of conscience or to the law of God, with no
regard to jurisprudence in the matter — there is,
in the virtuous affection itself, another and a dis
tinct enjoyment. We ought to cherish and to
exercise benevolence ; and there is a pleasure in
the consciousness of doing what we ought: but
beside this moral sentiment, and beside the peculiar
pleasure appended to benevolence as moral, there
is a sensation in the merely physical affection of
benevolence; and that sensation, of itself, is in
the highest degree pleasurable. The primary or
instant gratification which there is in the direct
and immediate feeling of benevolence is one thing :
the secondary or reflex gratification which there is
in the consciousness of benevolence as moral is
another thing. The two are distinct of themselves;
* See Introductory Chapter — 6.

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 113
but the contingent union of them, in the case of
every virtuous affection, gives a multiple force to
the conclusion, that God is the lover, and, because
so, the patron or the rewarder of virtue. He hath
so constituted our nature, that, in the very flow
and exercise of the good affections, there shall be
the oil of gladness. There is instant delight in
the first conception of benevolence. There is sus
tained delight in its continued exercise. There
is consummated delight in the happy, smiling, and
prosperous result of it. Kindness, and honesty,
and truth, are of themselves, and irrespective of
their Tightness, sweet unto the taste of the inner
man. Malice, envy, falsehood, injustice, irrespec
tive of their wrongness, have, of themselves, the
bitterness of gall and wormwood. The Deity hath
annexed a high mental enjoyment, not to the con
sciousness only of good affections, but to the very
sense and feeling of good affections. However
closely these may follow on each other— nay, how
ever implicated or blended together they may be
at the same moment into one compound state of
feeling — they are not the less distinct on that
account, of themselves. They form two pleasur
able sensations, instead of one ; and their apposi
tion, in the case of every virtuous deed or virtuous
desire, exhibits to us that very concurrence in the
world of mind, which obtains with such frequency
and fulness in the world of matter — affording, in
every new part that is added, not a simply repeated
VOL. I. H

114 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
only, but a vastly multiplied evidence for design,
throughout all its combinations. There is a plea
sure in the very sensation of virtue ; and there is
a pleasure attendant on the sense of its rectitude.
These two phenomena are independent of each
other. Let there be a certain number of chances
against the first in a random economy of things, and
also a certain number of chances against the second.
In the actual economy of things, where there is
the conjunction of both phenomena — it is the pro-
duct of these two numbers which represents the
amount of evidence afforded by them, for a moral
government in the world, and a moral Governor
over them.
3. In the calm satisfactions of virtue, this dis
tinction may not be so palpable, as in the pungent
and more vividly felt disquietudes which are at
tendant on the wrong affections of our nature.
The perpetual corrosion of that heart, for example,
which frets in unhappy peevishness all the day
long, is plainly distinct from the bitterness of that
remorse, which is felt in the recollection of its
harsh and injurious outbreakings on the innocent
sufferers within its reach. It is saying much for
the moral character of God, that he has placed a
conscience within us, which administers painful
rebuke on every indulgence of a wrong affection.
But it is saying still more for such being the char
acter of our Maker— so to have framed our mental
constitution, that, in the very working of these

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 115
bad affections there should be the painfulness of
a felt discomfort and discordancy. Such is the
make or mechanism of our nature, that it is
thwarted and put out of sorts, by rage, and envy,
and hatred ; and this, irrespective of the adverse
moral judgments which conscience passes upon
them. Of themselves they are unsavoury ; and
no sooner do they enter the heart, than they shed
upon it an immediate distillation of bitterness.
Just as the placid smile of benevolence bespeaks
the felt comfort of benevolence ; so, in the frown
and tempest of an angry countenance, do we read
the unhappiness of that man who is vexed and
agitated by his own malignant affections — eating
inwardly as they do on the vitals of his enjoyment.
It is therefore that he is often styled, and truly,
a self- tormentor, or, his own worst enemy. The
delight of virtue in itself, is a separate thing from
the delight of the conscience which approves it.
And the pain of moral evil in itself, is a separate
thing from the pain inflicted by conscience in the
act of condemning it. They offer to our notice
two distinct ingredients, both of the present re
ward attendant upon virtue, and of the present
penalty attendant upon vice ; and so, enhance the
evidence that is before our eyes, for the moral
character of that administration under which the
world has been placed by its author. The appe
tite of hunger is rightly alleged, in evidence of
the care wherewith the Deity hath provided for
h 2

116 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
the wellbeing of our natural constitution; and
the pleasurable taste of food is rightly alleged as
an additional proof of the same. And so, if the
urgent voice of conscience within, calling us to
virtue, be alleged in evidence of the care where
with the Deity hath provided for the wellbeing of
our moral constitution — the pleasurable taste of
virtue in itself, with the bitterness of its opposite,
may well be alleged as additional evidence thereof,
They alike afford the present and the sensible
tokens of a righteous administration, and so of a
righteous God.
4. Our present argument is grounded, neither
on the rectitude of virtue, nor on its utility in the
grosser and more palpable sense of that term-
but on the immediate sweetness of it. It is the
office of conscience to tell us of its rectitude. It
is by experience that we learn its utility. But the
Sweetness of it — the duke of virtue, as distin
guished from its utile, is a thing of instant sensa
tion. It may be decomposed into two ingredients,
with one of which conscience has to do — even the
pleasure we have when any deed or any affection
of ours receives from her a favourable verdict.
But it has another ingredient, which forms the
proper and the distinct argument that we are now
urging — even the pleasure we have in the mere
relish of the affection itself. If it be a proof of
benevolence in God, that our external organs of
taste should have been so framed as to have a

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 117
liking for wholesome food — it is no less the proof
both of a benevolent and a righteous God, so to
have framed our mental economy, as that right
and wholesome morality should be palatable to the
taste of the inner man. Virtue is not only seen
to be right — it is felt to be delicious. There is
happiness in the very wish to make others happy.
There is a heart's ease, or a heart's enjoyment,
even in the first purposes of kindness, as well as
in its subsequent performances. There is a cer
tain rejoicing sense of clearness in the consistency,
the exactitude, of justice and truth. There is a
triumphant elevation of spirit in magnanimity and
honour. In perfect harmony with this, there is
a placid feeling of serenity and blissful content
ment in gentleness and humility. There is a
noble satisfaction in those victories, which, at the
bidding of principle, or by the power of self-com
mand, may have been achieved over the propen
sities of animal nature. There is an elate inde
pendence of soul, in the consciousness of having
nothing to hide, and nothing to be ashamed of.
In a word, by the constitution of our nature, each
virtue has its appropriate charm ; and virtue, on
the whole, is a fund of varied, as well as of per
petual enjoyment, to him who hath imbibed its
spirit, and is under the guidance of its principles.
He feels all to be health and harmony within ;
and without, he seems as if to breathe in an atmo
sphere of beauteous transparency — proving how

118 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
much the nature of man and the nature of vir
tue are in unison with each other. It is hunger
which urges to the use of food ; but it strikingly
demonstrates the care and benevolence of God,
so to have framed the organ of taste, as that there
shall be a superadded enjoyment in the use of it.
It is conscience which urges to the practice of
virtue ; but it serves to enhance the proof of a
moral purpose, and therefore of a moral character
in God, so to have framed our mental economy,
that, in addition to the felt obligation of its Tight
ness, virtue should of itself be so regaling to the
taste of the inner man.
5. In counterpart to these sweets and satisfac
tions of virtue, is the essential and inherent bit
terness of all that is morally evil. We repeat,
that with this particular argument we do not
mix up the agonies of remorse. It is the wretch
edness of vice in itself, not the wretchedness
which we suffer because of its recollected and felt
wrongness, that we now speak of. It is not the
painfulness of the compunction felt because of our
anger, upon which we at this moment insist ; but
the painfulness of the emotion itself: and the
same remark applies to all the malignant desires
of the human heart. True, it is inseparable from
the very nature of a desire, that there must be
some enjoyment or other, at the time of its grati
fication ; but, in the case of these evil affections,
it is not unmixed enjoyment. The most ordi-

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 119
nary observer of his own feelings, however in
capable of analysis, must be sensible, even at the
moment of wreaking in full indulgence of his
resentment on the man who has provoked or
injured him, that all is not perfect and entire
enjoyment within ; but that, in this, and indeed
in every other malignant feeling, there is a sore
burden of disquietude — an unhappiness tumul-
tuating in the heart, and visibly pictured on the
countenance. The ferocious tyrant who has only
to issue forth his mandate, and strike dead at
pleasure the victim of his wrath, with any circum
stance too of barbaric caprice and cruelty, which
his fancy in the very waywardness of passion
unrestrained and power unbounded might sug
gest to him — he may be said to have experienced
through life a thousand gratifications, in the so
laced rage and revenge, which, though ever break
ing forth on some new subject, he can appease
again every day of his life by some new execu
tion. But we mistake it if we think otherwise
than that, in spite of these distinct and. very nu
merous, nay, daily gratifications if he so choose,
it is a life of fierce internal agony notwithstand
ing. It seems indispensable to the nature of
every desire, and to form part indeed of its very
idea, that there should be a distinctly felt plea
sure, or at least, a removal at the time of a dis
tinctly felt pain, in the act of its fulfilment — yet,
whatever recreation or relief may have thus been

120 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
rendered, without doing away the misery, often in
the whole amount of it the intense misery, in-
flicted upon man by the evil propensities of his
nature. Who can doubt, for example, the un-
happiness of the habitual drunkard ? — and that,
although the ravenous appetite, by which he is
driven along a stormy career, meets every day,
almost every hour of the day, with the gratifi
cation that is suited to it. The same may be
equally affirmed of the voluptuary, or of the de
predator, or of the extortioner, or of the liar. Each
may succeed in the attainment of his specific ob
ject; and we cannot possibly disjoin from the
conception of success, the conception of some
sort of pleasure — yet in perfect consistency, we
affirm, with a sad and heavy burthen of unplea
santness or unhappiness on the whole. He is little
conversant with our nature who does not know of
many a passion belonging to it, that it may be the
instrument of many pleasurable, nay, delicious or
exquisite sensations, and yet be a wretched pas
sion still ; the domineering tyrant of a bondsman,
who at once knows himself to be degraded, and
feels himself to be unhappy. A sense of guilt is
one main ingredient of this misery — yet physi
cally, and notwithstanding the pleasure or the
relief inseparable at the moment from every in
dulgence of the passions, there are other sensa
tions of bitterness, which of themselves, and apart
from remorse, would cause the suffering to pre
ponderate.

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 12l
6. There is an important discrimination made
by Bishop Butler in his sermons ; and by the help
of which, this phenomenon, of apparent contradic
tion or mystery in our nature, may be satisfactorily
explained. He distinguishes between the final
object of any of our desires, and the pleasure at
tendant on, or rather inseparable from, its gratifi*
cation. The object is not the pleasure, though
the pleasure be an unfailing and essential accom
paniment on the attainment of the object. This
is well illustrated by the appetite of hunger, of
which it were more proper to say that it seeks for
food, than that it seeks for the pleasure which there
is in eating the food. The food is the object ;
the pleasure is the accompaniment. We do not
here speak of the distinct and secondary pleasure
which there is in the taste of food, but of that
other pleasure which strictly and properly attaches
to the gratification of the appetite of hunger. This
is the pleasure, or relief, which accompanies the
act of eating ; while the ultimate object, the object
in which the appetite rests and terminates, is the
food itself. The same is true of all our special
affections. Each has a proper and peculiar object
of its own, and the mere pleasure attendant on the
prosecution or the indulgence of the affection is
not, as has been clearly established by Butler, and
fully reasserted by Dr. Thomas Brown, is not that
object. The two are as distinct from each other, as
a thing loved is distinct from the pleasure of loving

122 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
it. Every special inclination has its special and
counterpart object. The object of the inclination
is one thing ; the pleasure of gratifying the incli
nation is another ; and, in most instances, it were
more proper to say, that it is for the sake of the
object than for the sake of the pleasure that the
inclination is gratified. The distinction that we
now urge, though felt to be a subtile, is truly a sub-
stantial one, and pregnant both with important
principle and important application. The discovery
and clear statement of it by Butler may well be
regarded as the highest service rendered by any
philosopher to moral science ; and that, from the
light which it casts, both on the processes of the
human constitution and on the theory of virtue.
As one example of the latter service, the principle
in question, so plainly and convincingly unfolded
by this great Christian philosopher in his sermon
on the love of our neighbour, strikes, and with
most conclusive effect, at the root of the selfish
system of morals ; a system which professes that
man's sole object, in the practice of all the various
moralities, is his own individual advantage. Now,
in most cases of a special, and more particularly of
a virtuous affection, it can be demonstrated, that
the object is a something out of himself, and dis
tinct from himself. Take compassion for one in-
stance out of the many. The object of this affec
tion is the relief of another's misery, and in the
fulfilment of this does the affection meet with its

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 123
full solace and gratification ; that is, in a some
thing altogether external from himself. It is true,
that there is an appropriate pleasure in the indul
gence of this affection, even as there is in the in
dulgence of every other ; and in proportion, too,
to the strength of the affection, will be the great
ness of the pleasure. The man who is doubly
more compassionate than his fellow, will have
doubly a greater enjoyment in the relief of misery;
yet that, most assuredly, not because he of the two
is the more intently set on his own gratification,
but because he of the two is the more intently
set on an outward accomplishment — the relief of
another's wretchedness. The truth is, that, just
because more compassionate than his fellow, the
more intent is he than the other on the object of
this affection, and the less intent is he than the
other on himself, the subject of this affection. His
thoughts and feelings are more drawn away to the
sufferer, and therefore more drawn away from him
self. He is the most occupied with the object of
this affection ; and, on that very account, the least
occupied with the pleasure of its indulgence. And
it is precisely the objective quality of these regards,
which stamps upon compassion the character of a
disinterested affection. He surely is the most
compassionate whose thoughts and feelings are
most drawn away to the sufferer, and most drawn
away from self; or, in other words, most taken up
with the direct consideration of him who is the

124 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
object of this affection, and least taken up with the
reflex consideration of the pleasure that he himself
has in the indulgence of it. Yet this prevents not
the pleasure from being actually felt; and felt,
too, in very proportion to the intensity of the com
passion ; or, in other words, more felt the less it
has been thought of at the time, or the less it has
been pursued for its own sake. It seems unavoid
able in every affection, that the more a thing is
loved, the greater must be the pleasure of indulg
ing the love of it : yet it is equally unavoidable,
that the greater in that case will be our aim towards
the object of the affection, and the less will be our
aim towards the pleasure which accompanies its
gratification. And thus, to one who reflects pro
foundly and carefully on these things, it is no
paradox that he who has had doubly greater en
joyment than another in the exercise of compassion,
is doubly the more disinterested of the two ; that
he has had the most pleasure in this affection who
has been the least careful to please himself with
the indulgence of it ; that he whose virtuous de
sires, as being the strongest, have in their gratifi^
cation ministered to self the greatest satisfaction,
has been the least actuated of all his fellows by
the wishes, and stood at the greatest distance from
the aims of selfishness.*
7. And moreover, there is a just and philoso-
* The purely disinterested character of a right religious af
fection might be proved by these considerations.

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 125
pineal sense, in which many of our special affec
tions, besides the virtuous, are alike disinterested
with these ; even though they have been com
monly ranked among the selfish affections of our
nature. The proper object of self-love is the good
of self; and this calm general regard to our own
happiness may be considered, in fact, as the only
interested affection to which our nature is compe
tent. The special affections are, one and all of
them, distinct from self-love, both in their objects,
and in the real psychological character of the affec
tions themselves. The object of the avaricious
affection is the acquirement of wealth ; of the re
sentful, the chastisement of an offender ; of the
sensual, something appropriate or suited to that
corporeal affection which forms the reigning appe
tite at the time. In none of these, is the good of
self the proper discriminative object of the affec
tion ; and the mind of him who is under their
power, and engaged in their prosecution, is differ
ently employed from the mind of him, who, at the
time, is either devising or doing aught for the
general or abstract end of his own happiness.
None of these special affections is identical with
the affection which has happiness for its object.
So far from this, the avaricious man often, con
scious of the strength of his propensity, and at the
moment of being urged forward by it to new spe
culations, acknowledges in his heart, that he would
be happier far, could he but moderate its violence,

126 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
and be satisfied with an humbler fortune than that
to which his aspirations would carry him. And
the resentful man, in the very act of being tempest
driven to some furious onset against the person
who has affronted or betrayed him, may yet be
sensible that, instead of seeking for any benefit to
himself, he is rushing on the destruction of his
character, or fortune, or even life. And many is
the drunkard who, under the goadings of an appe
tite which he cannot withstand, in place of self-
love being the principle, and his own greatest
happiness the object, knows himself to be on the
road to inevitable ruin. There is an affection
which has happiness for its object ; but this is not
the affection which rules and has the ascendency
in any of these instances. These are all special
affections, grounded on the affinities which obtain
between certain objects and certain parts of human
nature, and which cannot be indulged beyond a
given extent, without distemper and discomfort to
the whole nature ; so that, in spite of all the par
ticular gratifications which follow in their train,
the man over whom they tyrannize may be un
happy upon the whole. The very distinction be
tween the affection of self-love and the special
affections, proves that there is a corresponding
distinction in their objects ; and this again, that
many of the latter may be gratified, while the for
mer is disappointed, — or, in other words, that,
along with many particular enjoyments, the general

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 127
state of man may be that of utter and extreme
wretchedness. It is therefore a competent question,
what those special affections are which most consist
with the general happiness of the mind ; and this,
notwithstanding that they all possess one circum
stance in common — the unavoidable pleasure ap
pendant to the gratification of each of them.*
* The following are the clear and judicious observations of
Sir James Mackintosh on this subject: —
" In contending, therefore, that the benevolent affections are
disinterested, no more is claimed for them than must be granted
to mere animal appetites and to malevolent passions. Each of
these principles alike seeks its own object, for the sake simply of
obtaining it. Pleasure is the result of the attainment, but no
separate part of the aim of the agent. The desire that another
person may be gratified, seeks that outward object alone, accord
ing to the general course of human desire. Resentment is as
disinterested as gratitude or pity, but not more so. Hunger or
thirst may be, as much as the purest benevolence, at variance
with self-love. A regard to our own general happiness is not a
vice, but in itself an excellent quality. It were well if it pre
vailed more generally over craving and shortsighted appetites.
The weakness of the social affections, and the strength of the
private desires, properly constitute selfishness ; a vice utterly at
variance with the happiness of him who harbours it, and as such,
condemned by self-love. There are as few who attain the greatest
satisfaction to themselves, as who do the greatest good to others.
It is absurd to say with some, that the pleasure of benevolence
is selfish, because it is felt by self. Understanding and reason
ing are acts of self, for no man can think by proxy; but no man
ever called them selfish. Why? Evidently because they do not
regard self. Precisely the same reason applies to benevolence.
Such an argument is a gross confusion of self, as it is a subject
of feeling or thought, with self considered as the object of either.

128 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
8. This explanation will help us to understand
wherein it is that the distinction in point of enjoy.
ment, between a good and an evil affection of our
nature, properly lies. For there is a certain spe
cies of enjoyment common to them all. It were a
contradiction in terms to affirm otherwise ; for it
were tantamount to saying, that an affection may
be gratified, without the actual experience of a
gratification. There must be some sensation or
other of happiness, at the time when a man obtains
that which he is seeking for ; and if it be not a
positive sensation of pleasure, it will at least be the
sensation of a relief from pain, as when one meets
with the opportunity of wreaking upon its object
that indignation which had long kept his heart in
a tumult of disquietude. We therefore would
mistake the matter, if we thought that a state even
of thorough and unqualified wickedness was exclu
sive of all enjoyment — for even the vicious affec
tions must share in that enjoyment, which insepa
rably attaches to every affection, at the moment of
its indulgence. And thus it is, that even in the
veriest Pandemonium might there be lurid gleams
of ecstasy, and shouts of fiendish exultation— the
merriment of desperadoes in crime, who send forth
the outcries of their spiteful and savage delight,
It is no more just to refer the private appetites to self-love be
cause they commonly promote happiness, than it would be to
refer them to self-hatred, in those frequent cases where their
gratification obstructs it,"

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 129
when some deep-laid villany has triumphed ; or
when, in some dire perpetration of revenge, they
have given full satisfaction and discharge to the
malignity of their accursed nature. The assertion
therefore may be taken too generally, when it is
stated, that there is no enjoyment whatever in the
veriest hell of assembled outcasts ; for even there,
might there be many separate and specific gratifi
cations. And we must abstract the pleasure essen
tially involved in every affection, at the instant df
its indulgence, and which cannot possibly be dis
joined from it, ere we see clearly and distinctively
wherein it is that, in respect of enjoyment, the
virtuous and vicious affections differ from each
other. For it is true, that there is a common re
semblance between them ; and that, by the uni
versal law and nature of affection, there must be
some sort of agreeable sensation, in the act of their
obtaining that which they are seeking after. Yet
it is no less true, that, did the former affections
bear supreme rule in the heart, they would brighten
and tranquillize the whole of human existence —
whereas, had the latter the entire and practical
ascendency, they would distemper the whole man,
and make him as completely wretched as he were
completely worthless.
9. There is one leading difference then between
a virtuous and a vicious affection — that there is
always a felt sweetness in the very presence and
contact of the former; whereas, in the presence
VOL. I. I

130 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
and contact of the latter, there is generally, or
very often at least, a sensation of bitterness. Let
them agree as they may in the undoubted fact of
a gratification in the attainment of their respective
ends, the affections themselves may be long in ex
istence and operation before their ends are arrived
at; and then it is, we affirm, that if compared,
there will be found a wide distinction and dissimi-
larity between them. The very feeling of kindness
is pleasant to the heart ; and the very feeling of
anger is a painful and corrosive one. The latter,
we know, is often said to be a mixed feeling—
because of both the pleasure and the pain which
are said to enter into it. But it will be found that
the pleasure, in this case, lies in the prospect of
full and final gratification ; and very often, in a
sort of current or partial gratification which one
may experience beforehand, in the mere vent or
utterance by words, of the labouring violence that
is within — seeing that words of bitterness, when
discharged on the object of our wrath, are some
times the only, and even the most effective, exe
cutioners of all the vengeance that we meditate ;
besides that, by their means, we may enlist in our
favour the grateful sympathy of other men — thus
obtaining a solace to ourselves, and aggravating
the punishment of the offender, by exciting against
him, in addition to our own hostility, the hostile
indignation of his fellows. And thus too is it,
that, in the case of anger, there may not only be a

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 131
completed gratification at the last, by the infliction
of a full and satisfactory chastisement ; but a gra-
tificatiofy as it were by instalments, with every
likely purpose of retaliation that we may form in
our bosoms, and every sentence of keen and re
proachful eloquence that may fall from our lips.
And so anger has been affirmed to be a mixed
emotion, from confounding the pleasure that lies
in the gratification of the emotion, with the plea
sure that is supposed to lie in the feeling of the
emotion. But the truth is, that, apart from the
gratification, the emotion is an exceedingly painful
one — insomuch that the gratification mainly lies
in the removal of a pain, or in the being rid of a
felt uneasiness. Compassion may in the same way
be termed a mixed feeling. But on close attention
to these two affections and comparison between
them, it will be found, that all the pleasure of
anger lies in its gratification, and all the pain of it
in the feeling itself — whereas all the pain of com
passion lies in the disappointment of its gratifica
tion, while in the feeling itself there is nought but
pleasure. Let the respective gratifications of these
two affections — the one, by the fulfilled retaliation
of a wrong ; the other, by the fulfilled relief of a
suffering — let these gratifications be put out of
notice altogether, that we might but attend to the
yet ungratified feelings themselves ; and we can
not imagine a greater difference of state between
two minds, than that of one which luxuriates in
i 2

132 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
the tenderness of compassion, and that of another
which breathes and is infuriated with the dark
passions and the still darker purposes of resent
ment. Or we may appeal to the experience of the
same mind, which at one time may have its hour
of meditated kindness, and at another its hour of
meditated revenge. We speak of these two, not
in the moment of their respective triumphs, not of
the sensations attendant on the success of each—
but of the direct and instant sensations which lie
in the feelings themselves. They form two as dis
tinct states in the moral world, as sunshine and
tempest are in the physical world. We have but
to name the elements which enter into the com
position of each, in order to suggest the utter con
trariety which obtains between them — between the
calm and placid cheerfulness, on the one hand, of
that heart which is employed in conceiving the
generous wishes, or in framing the liberal and
fruitful devices, of benevolence ; and, on the other
hand, the turbulence and fierce disorder of the
same heart, when burning disdain, or fell and im
placable hatred, has taken possession of, it — the
reaction of its own affronted . pride, or aggrieved
sense of the injury which has been done to it. '
10. But perhaps the most favourable moment
for comparison between them, is when each is frus
trated of its peculiar aim ; and so each is sent back
upon itself, with that common suffering to which
all the affections are liable — the suffering of a dis-

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 133
appointment.. We shall be at no loss to determine
on which side the advantage lies, if we have either
felt or witnessed benevolence in tears, because of
the misery. which it cannot alleviate; and rage,
in the agonies of its defeated impotence, because
of the haughty or successful defiance of an enemy,
whom with vain hostility it has tried to assail, but
cannot reach. We have the example of a good
affection under disappointment, in the case of vir
tuous grief or virtuous indignation ; and of a bad
affection under disappointment, in the case of envy,
when, in spite of every attempt to calumniate or
depress its object, he shines forth to universal ac
knowledgment and applause, in all the lustre of
his vindicated superiority. It marks how distinct
these two sets of feelings are from each other, that
with the former, even under the pain of disappoint
ment, there is a something in the very taste and
quality of the feelings themselves, which acts as an
emollient or a charm, and mitigates the painfulness
— while, with the latter, there is nought to miti
gate, but every thing to exasperate, and more
fiercely to agonize. The malignant feelings are
no sooner turned inwardly, by the arrest of a dis
appointment from without, than they eat inwardly ;
and, when foiled in the discharge of their purposed
violence upon others, they recoil — and, without
one soothing ingredient to calm the labouring
effervescence, they kindle a hell in the heart of the
unhappy owner. Internally, there is a celestial

134 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
peace and satisfaction in virtue, even though, in
the midst of its outward discomfiture, it be com-
pelled to weep over the unredressed wrongs and
sufferings of humanity. On the other hand, the
very glance of disappointed malevolence bespeaks
of this evil affection, that of itself it is a fierce
and fretting distemper of the soul, an executioner
of vengeance for all the guilty passions it may have
fanned into mischievous activity, and for all the
crimes it may have instigated.
11. And this contrast between a good and an
evil affection, this superiority of the former to the
latter, is fully sustained, when, instead of looking
to the state of mind which is left by the disap
pointment of each, we look to the state of mind
which is left by their respective gratifications— the
one a state of sated compassion, the other of sated
resentment. There is one most observable dis
tinction between the states of feeling, by which an
act of compassion on the one hand, and of resent*
ment on the other, are succeeded. It is seldom
that man feasts his eyes on that spectacle of pros-
trate suffering which, in a moment of fury, he
hath laid at his feet, in the same way that he
feasts his eyes on that picture of family comfort
which smiles upon him from some cottage home,
that his generosity had reared. This looks as if
the sweets of benevolence were lasting, whereas
the sweets of revengeful malice, such as they are,
are in general but momentary. An act of com*

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 135
passion may extinguish for a time the feeling of
compassion, by doing away that suffering which
is the object of it ; but then it generally is followed
up by a feeling of permanent regard. An act Of
revenge, when executed to the full extent of the
desire or purpose, does extinguish and put an end
to the passion of revenge ; and is seldom, if ever,
followed up by a feeling of permanent hatred.
An act of kindness but attaches the more, and
augments a friendly disposition towards its object.
It were both untrue in itself, and unfair to our
nature, to say, that an act of revenge but exasper
ates the more, and always augments, or even often
augments, a hostile disposition towards its object.
It has been said that we hate the man whom we
have injured : but whatever the truth of this ob
servation may be, certain it is, that we do not so
hate the man of whom we have taken full satisfac
tion for having injured us ; or, if we could imagine
aught so monstrous, and happily so rare, as the
prolonged, the yet unquelled satisfaction of one
who could be regaled for hours with the sighs of
him whom his own hands had wounded, or for
months and years, with the pining destitution of
the household whom himself had impoverished
and brought low — this were because the measure
of the revenge had not equalled the measure of
the felt provocation, only perhaps to be appeased
and satiated by death. This, at length, would ter
minate the emotion. And here a new insight opens

136 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
upon us into the distinction between a good and a
bad affection. Benevolence, itself of immortal
quality, would immortalize its objects : malignity,
if not appeased by an infliction short of death,
would destroy them.* The one is ever strength
ening itself upon old objects, and fastening upon
new ones ; the other is ever extinguishing its re
sentment towards old objects by the pettier acts
of chastisement, or, if nothing short of a capital
punishment will appease it, by dying with their
death. The exterminating blow, the death which
" clears all scores" — this forms the natural and ne
cessary limit even to the fiercest revenge ; whereas,
the outgoings of benevolence are quite indefinite.
In revenge, the affection is successively extin-
guished ; and if relumed, it is upon new objects.
In benevolence, the affection is kept up for old
objects, while ever open to excitement from new
ones ; and hence a living and a multiplying power
of enjoyment, which is peculiarly its own. On
the same principle that we water a shrub just be
cause we had planted it, does our friendship grow
and ripen the more towards him on whom we had
formerly exercised it. The affection of kindness
for each individual object survives the act of kind
ness, or rather is strengthened by the act. What
ever sweetness may have been originally in it, is
enhanced by the exercise ; and, so far from being
* So true it is, that he who hateth his brother with implacable
hatred is a murderer.

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 137
stifled by the first gratification, it remains in greater
freshness than ever for higher and larger gratifica
tions than before. It is the perennial quality of
their gratification, which stamps that superiority
on the good affections we are now contending for.
Benevolence both perpetuates itself upon its old
objects, and expands itself into a wider circle as it
meets with new ones. Not so with revenge, which
generally disposes of the old object by one gratifi
cation ; and then must transfer itself to a new ob
ject, ere it can meet with another gratification.
Let us grant that each affection has its peculiar
walk of enjoyment. The history of the one walk
presents us with a series of accumulations ; the
history of the other with a series of extinctions. ,
12. But in dwelling on this beautiful pecu
liarity, by which a good affection is distinguished
from a bad one, we are in danger of weakening
our immediate argument. We bring forward the
matter a great deal too favourably for the malig
nant desires of the human heart, if, while reason
ing on the supposition of an enjoyment, however
transitory in their gratification, we give any room
for the imagination . that even this is unmixed
enjoyment. We have already stated, that, of
themselves, and . anterior to their gratification,
there is a painfulness in these desires ; and that,
when by their gratification we get quit of this
painfulness, we might after all obtain little more
than a relief from misery. But the truth is, that,

138 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
generally speaking, we obtain a great deal less
on the side of happiness than this ; for, in most
cases, all that we obtain by the gratification of a
malignant passion, is but the exchange of one
misery for another ; and this apart still from the
remorse of an evil perpetration. There is one
familiar instance of it, which often occurs in con
versation — when, piqued by something offensive
in the remark or manner of our fellow, we react
with a severity which humbles and overwhelms
him. In this case, the pain of the resentment is
succeeded by the pain we feel in the spectacle of
that distress which ourselves have created; and
this, too, aggravated perhaps by the reprobation
of all the by-standers — affording thereby a minia
ture example of the painful alternations which are
constantly taking place in the history of moral
evil ; when the misery of wrong affections is but
replaced, to the perpetrator himself, by the misery
of the wrong actions to which they have hurried
him. It is thus that a life of frequent gratifica-
tion may, notwithstanding, be a life of intense
wretchedness. It may help our imagination of
such a state, to conceive of one, subject every
hour to the agonies of hunger, with such a mal-
conformation at the same time in his organ of
taste, that in food of every description he felt a
bitter and universal nausea. There were here a
constant gratification, yet a constant and severe
endurance— a mere alternation of cruel sufferings

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 139
—the displacement of one set of agonies, by the
substitution of other agonies in their room. This
is seldom, perhaps never realized in the physical
world ; but in the moral world it is a great and
general phenomenon. The example shows at
least the possibility of a constitution, under which
a series of incessant gratifications may be nothing
better than a restless succession of distress and
disquietude ; and that such should be the consti
tution of our moral nature as to make a life of
vice a life of vanity and cruel vexation, is strong
experimental evidence of Him who ordained this .
constitution, that He hateth iniquity, that He
loveth righteousness.
13. But the peculiarity which we have been
incidently led to notice, is in itself pregnant with
inference also. We should augur hopefully of
the final issues of our moral constitution, as well
as conclude favourably of Him who hath ordained
it — when we find its workings to be such, that,
on the one hand, the feeling of kindness towards
an individual object, not only survives, but is inde
finitely strengthened by the acts of kindness ; and,
on the other hand, that not only does an act of
revenge satiate and put an end to the feeling of
revenge, but even, that certain acts of hostility
towards the individual object of our hatred will
make us relent from this hatred, and at length
extinguish it altogether. May we not perceive
in this economy a balance in point of tendency,

140 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
and at length of ultimate effect, on the side of
virtue ? May it not warrant the expectation^ %t,
while benevolence, that great conservative princi
ple of being, has in it a principle conservative of
itself as well as of its objects, the outbreakings of
evil are but partial and temporary ; and that the
moral world, viewed as a progressive system, and
now only in its transition state, has been so con
structed as to secure both the perpetuity of all the
good affections, and the indefinite expansion of
them to new objects, and over a larger and ever-
widening territory ? At all events, whatever rea
son there may be to fear, that, in the future ar
rangements of nature and providence, both virtue
and vice will be capable of immortality — we might
gather from what passes under our eyes, in this
rudimental and incipient stage of human existence,
that, even with our present constitution, virtue
alone is capable of a blissful immortality. For
malice and falsehood carry in them the seeds of
their own wretchedness, if not of their own de
struction. Only grant the soul to be imperish
able ; and if the character of the governor is to be
gathered from the final issues of the government
over which he presides— it says much for the
moral character of Him who framed us, that,
unless there be an utter reversal of the nature
which himself has given, then in respect to. the
power of conferring enjoyment or of maintaining
the soul in its healthiest and happiest mood, it is

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 141
righteousness alone which endureth for ever, and
charity alone which never faileth.
14. And beside taking account of the special
enjoyments which attach to the special virtues,
we might observe on the general state of that
mind, which, under the consistent and compre
hensive principle of being or doing what it ought,
studies rightly to acquit itself of all the moral
obligations. Beside the perpetual feast of an ap
proving conscience, and the constant recurrence
of those particular gratifications which attach to
the indulgence of every good affection, — is it not
quite obvious of every mind which places itself
under a supreme regimen of morality, that then
it is in its best possible condition with regard to
enjoyment : like a well-strung instrument, in right
and proper tone, because all its parts are put in
right adjustment with each other? If conscience
be indeed the superior faculty of our nature, then,
every time it is cast down from this pre-eminence,
there must be a sensation of painful dissonance ;
and the whole man feels out of sorts, as one un
hinged or denaturalized. This perhaps is the
main reason that a state of well-doing stands as
sociated with a state of well-being; and why the
special virtue of temperance is not more closely
associated with the health of the body, than the
general habit of virtue is with a wholesome and
well-conditioned state of the soul. There is then
no derangement as it were in the system of our

142 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS, AND
nature — all the powers, whether superior or sub
ordinate, being in their right places, and all mov
ing without discord and without dislocation. It
were anticipating our argument, did we refer at
present to the confidence and regard wherewith
a virtuous man is surrounded in the world. We
have not yet spoken of the adaptations to man's
moral constitution from without, but only of the in
ward pleasures and satisfactions which are yielded
in the workings of the constitution itself. And
surely when we find it to have been so constructed
and attuned by its maker, that in all the move
ments of virtue there is a felt and grateful har
mony, while a certain jarring sense of violence
and discomposure ever attends upon the opposite
— we cannot imagine how the moral character of
that Being who Himself devised this constitution,
and established all its tendencies, can be more
clearly or convincingly read than in phenomena
like these.
15. We have already said that the distinction
so well established by Butler, between the object
of our affection and its accompanying, nay, inse
parable pleasure, was the most effectual argument
that could be brought to bear against the selfish
system of morals. The virtuous affection that is
in a man's breast simply leads him to do what he
ought ; and in that object he rests and terminates.
Like every other affection, there must be a plea-
sure conjoined with the prosecution of it ; and at

MISERY OF VICIOUS AFFECTIONS. 143
last, a full and final gratification in the attainment
of its object. But the object must be distinct
from the pleasure, which itself is founded on a
prior suitableness between the mind and its object.
When .a man is actuated by a virtuous desire, it
is the virtue itself that he is seeking, and not the
gratification that is in it. His single object is to
be or to do rightly — though, the more intent he is
upon this object, the greater will, the greater
must be his satisfaction if he succeed in it. Ne
vertheless, it is not the satisfaction which he is
seeking ; it is the object which yields the satisfac
tion — the object too for its own sake, and not for
the sake of its accompanying or its resulting en
joyment. Nay, the more strongly, and therefore
the more exclusively set upon virtue for its own
sake — the less will he think of its enjoyment, and
yet the greater will his actual enjoyment be. In
other words, virtue, the more disinterested it is, is
the more prolific of happiness to him who follows
it ; and then it is, that, when freest of all from
the taints of mercenary selfishness, it yields to its
votary the most perfect and supreme enjoyment.
Such is the constitution of our nature, that virtue
loses not its disinterested character, and yet man
loses not his reward ; and the author of this con
stitution, He who hath ordained all its laws and
its consequences, has given signal proof of His
own supreme regard for virtue, and therefore of
the supreme virtue of His own character, in that

144 PLEASURE OF VIRTUOUS AFFECTIONS, ETC.
He hath so framed the creatures of His will, as
that their perfect goodness and perfect happiness
are at one. Yet the union of these does not con-
stitute their unity. The union is a contingent
appointment of the Deity ; and so is at once the
evidence and the effect of the goodness that is in
His own nature.
16. This then is our second general argument
for the moral character of God, grounded on the
moral constitution of man ; and prior, as yet, to any
view of its adaptation to external nature. It is
distinct from the first argument, as grounded on
the phenomena of conscience, which assumes the
office of a judge within the breast, all whose deci
sions are on the side of benevolence and justice;
and which is ever armed with a certain power of
enforcement, both in the pains of remorse and the
pleasures of self-approbation. These, however,
are distinct, and ought to be distinguished from
the direct pleasures of virtue in itself, and the
direct pains of vice in itself, which form truly
separate ingredients — on the one hand, of a present
and often very painful correction, on the other
hand, of a present and very precious reward.

145

CHAPTER III.
THIRD GENERAL ARGUMENT.
The Power and Operation of Habit.
1. We have as yet been occupied with what may
be termed the instant sensations, wherewith mo
rality is beset in the mind of man — with the voice
of conscience which goes immediately before, or
with the sentence whether of approval or condem
nation, which comes immediately after it; and
latterly, with those states of feeling which are ex
perienced at the moment when under the power
of those affections, to which any moral designation,
be it of virtue or vice, is applicable — the pleasure
which there is in the very presence and contact of
the one, the distaste, the bitterness which there is
in the presence and contact of the other.
2. These phenomena of juxtaposition, as they
may be termed ; these contiguous antecedents and
consequents of the moral and the immoral in man,
speak strongly the purpose of Him who ordained
our mental constitution, in having inserted there
such a constant power of command and encou
ragement on the side of the former, and a like
constant operation of checks and discouragements
VOL. I. K

146 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
against the latter. But, perhaps, something more
may be collected of the design and character of
God, by stretching forward our observation pro-
spectively in the history of man, and so extending
our regards to the more distant consequences of
virtue or vice, both on the frame of his character
and the state of his enjoyments. By studying
these posterior results, we approximate our views
towards the final issues of that administration under
which we are placed. That defensive apparatus
wherewith the embryo seed of plants is guarded
and protected, might indicate a special care or
design in the preserver of it. What that design
particularly is comes to be clearly and certainly
known, when, in the future history of the plant,
we learn what the functions of the seed are, after
it has come to maturity ; and then observe, that,
had it been suffered universally to perish, it would
have led, not to the mortality of the individual,
for that is already an inevitable law, but to the
extinction and mortality of the species.
3. For tracing forward man's moral history, or
the changes which take place in his moral state,
it is necessary that we should advert to the influ
ence of habit. Yet it is not properly the philoso
phy of habit wherewith our argument is concerned,
but with the leading facts of its practical opera,
tion. A beneficial effect might still remain an
evidence of the divine goodness, by whatever steps
it should be efficiently or physically brought about,

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 147
— its power in this way depending not on the
questiqn how it is, but on the fact that so it is.
It were really, therefore, deviating from our own
strict and pertinent line of inquiry, did we stop
to discuss the philosophic theory of habit, or sus
pend our own independent reasoning till that
theory was settled — beside most unwisely and un
necessarily attaching to our theme all the discredit
of an obscure or questionable speculation. It is
with palpable and sure results both in the material
and mental world, more than with the recondite
processes in either, that theism has chiefly to do ;
and it is by the former more than by the latter
that the cause of theism is upholden.
4; We might only observe, in passing, that the
modification introduced by Dr. Thomas Brown
into the theory of habit, was perhaps uncalled for,
even for the accomplishment of his own purpose,
which was to demonstrate that it required no pe
culiar or original law of the human constitution to
account for its phenomena. He resolves, and we
are disposed to think rightly, the whole opera
tion of habit into the law of suggestion — only, he
would extend that law to states of feelings, as well
as to thoughts or states of thought.* We are all
* The following is the passage taken from his forty-third lec
ture, in which Dr. Brown seems to connect feeling with feeling
by the same mental law which connects thought with thought.
" To explain the influence of habit in increasing the tendency to
certain actions, I must remark, what I have already more than
K 2

148 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
aware that if two objects have been seen or thought
of together on any former occasion, then the
thought of one of them is apt to suggest the
thought of the other, and the more apt the more
frequently that the suggestion has taken place-
insomuch that, if the suggestion have taken place
very often, we shall find it extremely difficult, if
not impossible, to break the succession between
the thought which suggests and the thought which
is suggested by it. Now, Dr. Brown has con
ceived it necessary to extend this principle to feel
ings as well as thoughts — insomuch, that if on a
former occasion a certain object have been followed
up by a certain feeling, or even if one feeling have
been followed up by another, then the thought of
the object introduces the feeling, or the one feel
ing introduces the other feeling into the mind, on
the same principle that thought introduces thought.
Now, we should rather be inclined to hold that
thought introduces feeling, not in consequence of
the same law of suggestion whereby thought in-
once repeated, that the suggesting influence which is usually ex
pressed in the phrase, association of ideas, though that very im
proper phrase would seem to limit it to our ideas or conceptions
only, and has unquestionably produced a mistaken belief of this
partial operation of a general influence, is not limited to those
more than to any other states of mind, but occurs also with equal
force in other feelings, which are not commonly termed ideas or
conceptions; that our desires or other emotions, for example,
may, like them, form a part of our trains of suggestion," &c. See
another equally ambiguous passage in his sixty-fourth lecture.

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 149
troduces thought, but in virtue of the direct power
which lies in the object of the thought to excite
that feeling. When a voluptuous object awakens
a voluptuous feeling, this is not by suggestion, but
by a direct influence of its own. When the pic
ture of that voluptuous object awakens the same
voluptuous feeling, we would not ascribe it to sug
gestion, but still put it down to the power of the
object, whether presented or only represented, to
awaken certain emotions. And as little would we
ascribe the excitement of the feeling to suggestion,
but still to the direct and original power of the
object, though it were pictured to us only in
thought, instead of being pictured to us in visible
imagery. In like manner, when the thought of an
injury awakens in us anger, even as the injury
itself did at the moment of its infliction, we should
not ascribe this to that peculiar law which is termed
the law of suggestion, and which undoubtedly con
nects thought with thought. But we should ascribe
it wholly to that law which connects an object with
its appropriate emotion — whether that object be
present to the senses, or have only been recalled
by the memory, and is present to the thoughts.
We sustain an injury, and we feel resentment in
consequence, without surely the law of suggestion
having had aught to do with the sequence. We
see the aggressor afterwards, and our anger is re
vived against him ; and with this particular succes
sion the law of suggestion has certainly had to do,

150 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
—not, however, in the way of thought suggesting
feeling, but only in the way of thought suggesting
thought. In truth, it is a succession of three
terms. The sight of the man awakens a recollec*
tion of the injury; and the thought of the injury
awakens the emotion. The first sequence, or that
which obtains between the first and second term,
is a pure instance of the suggestion of thought by
thought, or, to speak in the old language, of the
association of ideas. The second sequence, or that
which obtains between the middle and last term,
is still, Dr. Brown would say, an instance of sug
gestion, but of thought suggesting the feeling
wherewith it was formerly accompanied. Where
as, in our apprehension, it is due, not to the law
of suggestion, but to the law which connects an
object, whether present at the time or thought
upon afterwards, with its counterpart emotion.
Still the result is the same, however differently
accounted for. One can think, surely, of the re
sentment which now occupies him, as well as he
can think of a past resentment ; indeed, it is diffi
cult to imagine how he can feel a resentment with
out thinking of it. Let some one thought, then,
by the proper law of suggestion, have introduced
the thought of an injury that had been done to us;
this second thought introduces the feeling of re
sentment, not by the law of suggestion, but by the
law which relates an object, whether present or
thought upon, to its appropriate emotion ; this

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 151
emotion is thought upon, and, not the emotion, but
the thought of the emotion, recalls the thought of
the first emotion that was felt at the original inflic
tion of the injury; and this thought again recalls
to us the thought of the injury itself, and perhaps
the thought of other or similar injuries, which, as
at the first, excites anew the feeling of anger, but,
at this particular step, by means of a law different
from that of suggestion, even the law of our emo
tions, in virtue of which, certain objects, when
present in any way to the cognizance of the under
standing, awaken certain sensibilities in the heart.
It is thus that thoughts and feelings might recipro
cally introduce each other, not by means of but
one law of suggestion extending in common to
them both, but by the intermingling of two laws
in this repeating or circulating process, — even the
law of suggestion, acting only upon the thoughts ;
and the law of emotion, by which certain objects,
when presented to the senses or to the memory, •
have the power to awaken certain correspondent
emotions. We in this way get quit of the mysti
cism which attaches to the notion of mere feelings
either suggesting or being suggested by other feel
ings, separately from thoughts — more especially
when, by the association of thoughts or of ideas
alone, and the direct power which lies in the ob
jects of these ideas to awaken certain emotions, all
the phenomena are capable of being explained.
A certain thought or object may suggest the

152 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
thought of a former provocation ; this thought
might excite a feeling of resentment ; the resent
ment, thus felt or thought upon, might send back
the mind to a still more vivid impression of its
original cause ; and this again might prolong or
waken the resentment anew, and in greater fresh
ness than before. The ultimate effect might be a
fierce and fiery effervescence of irascible feeling.
Yet not by the operation of one law, but of two
distinct laws in the human constitution ; the first
that, in virtue of which, thoughts suggest thoughts;
the second that, in virtue of which, the object
thus thought upon awakens the emotion that is
suited to it.
5. But though for once we have thus adverted
to the strict philosophy of the subject, it will be
apparent, that, in this instance, it is of no prac
tical necessity for the purposes of our argument ;
and it is truly the same in many other instances,
where, if instead of reasoning theologically on the
palpable operations of the mechanism, we should
reason scientifically on the modus operandi, we
would run into really irrelevant discussions. The
theme of our present chapter is the effects of
Habit, in as far as these effects serve to indicate
the design or character of Him who is the author
of our mental constitution. It matters not to any
conclusion of ours, by what recondite, or, it may
be, yet undiscovered process these effects are
brought about ; and whether the common theory,

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 153
or that of Dr. Brown, or that again as modified
and corrected by ourselves, is the just one. It is
enough to know, that, if any given process of in
termingled thought and feeling have been de
scribed by us once, there are laws at work, which,
on the first step of that process again recurring,
would incline us to describe the whole of the pro
cess over again ; and with the greater power and
certainty, the more frequently that process has
been repeated. We are perfectly sure that the
more frequently any particular sequence between
thought and thought may have occurred, the more
readily will it recur ; — so that when once the first
thought has entered the mind, we may all the more
confidently reckon on its being followed up by the
second. This we hold enough for explaining the
ever recurring force and facility, wherewith feel
ings also will arise and be followed up by their
indulgence — and that, just in proportion to the
frequency wherewith in given circumstances they
have been awakened and indulged formerly. In
as far as the objects of gratification are the ex
citing causes which stimulate and awaken the
desires of gratification ; then, any process which
ensures the presence and application of the causes,
will also ensure the fulfilment of the effects which
result from them. If it be the presence or per
ception of the wine that stands before us which
stirs up the appetite ; and if, instead of acting on
the precept of looking not unto the wine when it

154 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
is red, we continue to look till the appetite be so
inflamed that the indulgence becomes inevitable-
then, as we looked at it continuously when present,
will we, by the law of suggestion, be apt to think
of it continuously when absent. If the one con
tinuity was not broken by any considerations of
principle or prudence — so the less readily will the
other continuity be broken in like manner. When
we revisit the next social company, we shall pro
bably resign ourselves to the very order of sen-
sations that we did formerly ; and the more surely,
the oftener that that order has already been de
scribed by us. And as the order of objects with
their sensations when present, so is the order of
thoughts with their desires when absent. This
order forces itself upon the mind with a strength
proportional to the frequency of its repetition ; and
desires, when not evaded by the mind shifting its
attention away from the objects of them, can only
be appeased by their indulgence.
6. It is thus that he who enters on a career of
vice, enters on a career of headlong degeneracy.
If even for once we have described that process
of thought and feeling, which leads, whether
through the imagination or the senses, from the
first presentation of a tempting object to a guilty
indulgence — this of itself establishes a probability,
that, on the recurrence of that object, we shall
pass onward by the same steps to the same con
summation. And it is a probability ever strength-

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 155
ening with every repetition of the process, till at
length it advances towards the moral certainty of
a helpless surrender to the tyranny of those evil
passions, which we cannot resist, just because the
will itself is in thraldom, and we choose not to re
sist them. It is thus that we might trace the pro
gress of intemperance and licentiousness, and even
of dishonesty, to whose respective solicitations we
have yielded at the first — till, by continuing to
yield, we become the passive, the prostrate sub
jects of a force that is uncontrollable, only because
we have seldom or never in good earnest tried to
control it. It is not that we are struck of a sudden
with moral impotency ; but we are gradually be
numbed into it. The power of temptation has not
made instant seizure upon the faculties, or taken
them by storm. It proceeds by an influence that
is gently and almost insensibly progressive — just
as progressive, in truth, as the association between
particular ideas is strengthened by the frequency
of their succession. But even as that association
may at length become inveterate — insomuch that
when the first idea finds entry into the mind, we
cannot withstand the importunity wherewith the
second insists upon following it — so might the
moral habit become alike inveterate ; thoughts
succeeding thoughts, and urging onward their
counterpart desires in that wonted order, which
had hitherto connected the beginning of a tempta
tion with its full and final victory. At each re-

156 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
petition would we find it more difficult to break
this order, or to lay an arrest upon it — till at length,
as the fruit of this wretched regimen, its unhappy
patient is lorded over by a power of moral evil,
which possesses the whole man, and wields an
irresistible or rather an unresisted ascendency over
him. 7. But this melancholy process, leading to a
vicious indulgence, may be counteracted by an
opposite process of resistance, though with far
greater facility at the first — yet a facility ever
augmenting, in proportion as the effectual resist
ance of temptation is persevered in. That balanc
ing moment, at which pleasure would allure, and
conscience is urging us to refrain, may be regarded
as the point of departure or divergency, whence
one or other of the two processes will take their
commencement. Each of them consists in a par
ticular succession of ideas with their attendant
feelings ; and whichever of them may happen to
be described once, has, by the law of suggestion,
the greater chance, in the same circumstances,
of being described over again. Should the mind
dwell on an object of allurement, and the con
siderations of principle not be entertained — it
will pass onward from the first incitement to the
final and guilty indulgence by a series of stepping-
stones, each of which will present itself more
readily in future ; and with less chance of arrest
or interruption by the suggestions of conscience

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 157
than before. But should these suggestions be
admitted, and far more should they prevail — then
on the principle of association, will they be all the
more apt to intervene on the repetition of the
same circumstances ; and again break that line of
continuity, which, but for this intervention, would
have led from a temptation to a turpitude or a
crime. If on the occurrence of a temptation
formerly, conscience did interpose, and represent
the evil of a compliance, and so impress the man
with a sense of obligation, as led him to dismiss
the fascinating object from the presence of his
mind, or to hurry away from it — the likelihood is,
that the recurrence of a similar temptation will
suggest the same train of thoughts and feelings,
and lead to the same beneficial result ; and this is
a likelihood ever increasing with every repetition
of the process. The train which would have ter
minated in a vicious indulgence, is dispossessed by
the train which conducts to a resolution and an
act of virtuous self-denial. The thoughts which
tend to awaken emotions and purposes on the side
of duty find readier entrance into the mind ; and
the thoughts which awaken and urge forward the
desire of what is evil more readily give way. The
positive force on the side of virtue is augmented
by every repetition of the train which leads to a
virtuous determination. The resistance to this
force on the side of vice is weakened, in proportion
to the frequency wherewith that train of sugges-

158 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
tions, which would have led to a vicious indul
gence, is broken and discomfited. It is thus that
when one is successfully resolute in his opposition
to evil, the power of making the achievement and
the facility of the achievement itself are both upon
the increase; and virtue makes double gain to
herself by every separate conquest which she may
have won. The humbler attainments of moral
worth are first mastered and secured ; and the
aspiring disciple may pass onward in a career that
is quite indefinite to nobler deeds and nobler sa
crifices. 8. And this law of habit, when enlisted on the
side of righteousness, not only strengthens and
makes sure our resistance to vice, but facilitates
the most arduous performances of virtue. The
man whose thoughts, with the purposes and doings
to which they lead, are at the bidding of con-
science, will, by frequent repetition, at length
describe the same track almost spontaneously-
even as in physical education, things laboriously
learned at the first come to be done at last with
out the feeling of an effort. And so, in moral
education, every new achievement of principle
smooths the way to future achievements of the
same kind ; and the precious fruit or purchase of
each moral victory is to set us on higher and firmer
vantage-ground for the conquests of principle in
all time coming. He who resolutely bids away
the suggestions of avarice, when they come into

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 159
conflict with the incumbent generosity; or the
suggestions of voluptuousness, when they come
into conflict with the incumbent self-denial ; or
the suggestions of anger, when they come into
conflict with the incumbent act of magnanimity
and forbearance — will at length obtain, not a re
spite only, but a final deliverance from their in
trusion. Conscience, the longer it has made way
over the obstacles of selfishness and passion — the
less will it give way to these adverse forces, them
selves weakened by the repeated defeats which
they have sustained in the warfare of moral disci
pline : Or, in other words, the oftener that con
science makes good the supremacy which she
claims — the, greater would be the work of vio
lence, and less the strength for its accomplishment,
to cast her down from that station of practical
guidance and command which of right belongs to
her. It is just because, in virtue of the law of
suggestion, those trains of thought and feeling,
which connect her first biddings with their final
execution, are the less exposed at every new in
stance to be disturbed, and the more likely to be
repeated over again, that every good principle is
more strengthened by its exercise, and every good
affection is more strengthened by its indulgence
than before. The acts of virtue ripen into habits ;
and the goodly and permanent result is, the for
mation or establishment of a virtuous character.
9. This then forms the subject of our third gene-

160 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
ral argument. The voice of authority within, bid-
ding us to virtue, and the immediate delights atten
dant on obedience, certainly, speak strongly for the
moral character of that administration under which
we are placed. But, by looking to posterior and
permanent results, we have the advantage of view-
ing the system of that administration in progress.
Instead of the insulated acts, we are led to regard
the abiding and the accumulating consequences;
and by stretching forward our observation through
larger intervals, and to more distant points in the
moral history of men — we are in likelier circum
stances for obtaining a glimpse of their final desti
nation ; and so of seizing on this mighty and
mysterious secret — the reigning policy of the
divine government, whence we might collect the
character of Him who hath ordained it. And
surely, it is of prime importance to be noted in
this examination, that by every act of virtue' we
become more powerful for its service ; and by
every act of vice we become more helplessly its
slaves. Or, in other words, were these respective
moral regimens fully developed into their respec
tive consummations, it would seem as if, by the
one, we should be conducted to that state where
the faculty within, which is felt to be the rightful,
would also become the reigning sovereign, and
then we should have the full enjoyment of all the
harmony and happiness attendant upon virtue—
whereas, by the other, those passions of our nature

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. l6l
felt to be inferior, would obtain the lawless ascen
dency, and subject their wretched bondsmen to
the turbulence, and the agony, and the sense of
degradation, which, by the very constitution of
our being, are inseparable from the reign of moral
evil. 10. We might not fully comprehend the design
or meaning of a process, till we have seen the end
of it. Had there been no death, the mystery of
our present state might have been somewhat alle
viated. We might then have seen, in bolder relief
and indelible character, the respective consumma
tions of vice and virtue — perhaps the world parti
tioned into distinct moral territories, where the
habit of many centuries had given fixture and
establishment, first, to a society of the upright,
now in the firm possession of all goodness, as the
well-earned result of that wholesome discipline
through which they had passed ; and, second, to
a society of the reprobate, now hardened in all
iniquity, and abandoned to the violence of evil
passions no longer to be controlled and never to
be eradicated.. We might then have witnessed the
peace, the contentment, the universal confidence
and love, the melody of soul, that reigned in the
dwellings of the righteous ; and contrasted these
with the disquietudes, the strifes, the fell and
fierce collisions of injustice and mutual disdain
and hate implacable, the frantic bacchanalian ex
cesses with their dreary intervals of remorse and
VOL. I. L

162 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
lassitude, which kept the other region in perpetual
anarchy, and which, constituted as we are, must
trouble or dry up all the well-springs of enjoyment,
whether in the hearts of individuals, or in the
bosom of families. We could have been at no
loss to have divined, from the history and state of
such a world, the policy of its ruler. We should
have recognised in that peculiar economy, by
which every act, whether of virtue or vice, made
its performer still more virtuous or more vicious
than before, a moral remuneration on the one hand,
and a moral penalty on the other — with an en
hancement of all the consequences, whether good
or evil, which flowed from each of them. We
could not have mistaken the purposes and mind
of the Deity — when we saw thus palpably, and
through the demonstrations of experience, the
ultimate effects of these respective processes ; and,
in this total diversity of character, witb a like total
diversity of condition, were made to perceive, that
righteousness was its own eternal reward, and that
wickedness was followed up, and that for ever,
with the bitter fruit of its own ways.
11. Death so far intercepts the view of this
result, that it is not here the object of sight or of
experience. Still, however, it remains the object
of our likely anticipation. The truth is, that the
process which we are now contemplating, the pro
cess by which character is formed and strengthened
and perpetuated, suggests one of the strongest

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 163
arguments within compass of the light of nature^
for the immortality of the soul. In the system of
the world we behold so many adaptations, not only
between the faculties of sentient beings, and their
counterpart objects in external nature, but be
tween every historical progression in nature, and
a fulfilment of corresponding interest or magnitude
which it ultimately lands in — that we cannot be
lieve of man's moral history, as if it terminated in
death. More especially when we think of the
virtuous character, how laboriously it is reared, and
how slowly it advances to perfection ; but, at
length, how indefinite its capabilities of power and
of enjoyment are, after this education of habits
has been completed — it seems like the breach of
a great and general analogy, if man is to be sud
denly arrested on his way to the magnificent result,
for which it might well be deemed that the whole
of his life was but a preparation ; having just
reached the full capacity of an enjoyment, of
which he had only been permitted, in this eva
nescent scene, a few brief and passing foretastes.
It were like the infliction of a violence on the
continuity of things, of which we behold no simi
lar example, if a being so gifted were thus left to
perish in the full maturity of his powers and moral
acquisitions. The very eminence that he has won,
we naturally look upon as the guarantee and the
precursor of some great enlargement beyond it — >
warranting the hope, therefore, that Death but
l 2

164 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
transforms without destroying him, or, that the
present is only an embryo or rudimental state, the
final development of which is in another and fu-
ture state of existence.
12. This is not the right place for a full exposi*
tion of this argument. We might only observe,
that there is an evidence of man's immortality, in
the moral state and history of the bad upon earth,
as well as of the good. The truth is, that nature's
most vivid anticipations of a conscious futurity on
the other side of death, are the forebodings of
guilty fear, not the bright anticipations of confi
dent and rejoicing hope. We speak not merely of
the unredressed wrongs inflicted by the evil upon
the righteous, and which seem to demand an after-
place of reparation and vengeance. Beside those
unsettled questions between man and man, which
death breaks off at the middle, and for the adjust
ment of which one feels as if it were the cry of
eternal justice that there should be a reckoning
afterwards — beside these, there is felt, more di
rectly and vividly still, the sense of a yet un
settled controversy, between the sinner and the
God whom he has offended. The notion of im
mortality is far more powerfully and habitually
suggested by the perpetual hauntings or misgivings
of this sort of undefined terror, by the dread of a
coming penalty — rather than by the consciousness
of merit, or of a yet unsatisfied claim to a well-
earned reward. Nor is the argument at all less-

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 165
ened by that observed phenomenon in the history
of guilt, the decay of conscience ; a hebetude, if
it may be so termed, of the moral sensibilities,
which keeps pace with the growth of a man's
wickedness, and, at times, becomes quite inveterate
towards the termination of his mortal career. The
very torpor and tranquillity of such a state, would
only appear all the more emphatically to tell, that
a day of account is yet to come, when, instead of
rioting, as heretofore, in the impunity of a hardi
hood that shields him alike from reproach and
fear, conscience will at length reawaken to up
braid him for his misdoings ; at once the assertor
of its own cause, and the executioner of its own
sentence. And even the most desperate in crime,
do experience, at times, such gleams and resusci
tations of moral light, as themselves feel to be the
precursors of a revelation still more tremendous —
when their own conscience, fully let loose upon
them, shall, in the hands of an angry God, be a
minister of fiercest vengeance. Certain it is, that
if death, instead of an entire annihilation, be but
a removal to another and a different scene of exist
ence, we see in this, when combined with the
known laws and processes of the mind, the possi
bility, at least, of such a consummation. There is
much in the business, and entertainments, and
converse, and day-light of that urgent and obtrud
ing world by which we are surrounded, to carry
off the attention of the mind from its own guilti-

166 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
ness, and so, to suspend that agony, which, when
thrown back upon itself and dissevered from all its
objects of gratification, will be felt, without mitiga
tion and without respite. In the busy whirl of life,
the mind, drawn upon in all directions, can find,
outwardly and abroad, the relief of a constant diver
sion from the misery of its own internal processes.
But a slight change in its locality or its circum
stances, would deliver it up to the full burden and
agony of these ; nor can we imagine a more intense
and intolerable wretchedness, than that which
would ensue, simply by rescinding the connection
which obtains in this world between a depraved
mind and its external means of gratification—
when, forced inwardly on its own haunted tene
ment, it met with nothing there but revenge unsa-
tiated ; and raging appetites, that never rest from
their unappeased fermentation ; and withal, joined
to this perpetual sense of want, a pungent and
pervading sense of worthlessness. It is the con
stant testimony of criminals, that, in the horrors
and the tedium of solitary imprisonment, they
undergo the most appalling of all penalties— a
penalty, therefore, made up of moral elements
alone ; as neither pain, nor hunger, nor sickness,
necessarily forms any of its ingredients. It strik
ingly demonstrates the character of Him who so
constructed our moral nature, that from the work
ings of its mechanism alone, there should be
evolved a suffering so tremendous on the children

POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT. 167
of iniquity, insomuch that a sinner meets with
sorest vengeance when simply left to the fruit of
his own ways — whether by the death which car
ries his disembodied spirit to its Tartarus ; or by
a resurrection to another scene of existence, where,
in full possession of his earthly habits and earthly
passions, he is nevertheless doomed to everlasting
separation from their present counterpart and
earthly enjoyments.
13. There is a distinction sometimes made be
tween the natural and arbitrary rewards of virtue,
or between the natural and arbitrary punishments
of vice. The arbitrary is exemplified in the enact
ments of human law ; there in general being no
natural or necessary connection between the crimes
which it denounces, and the penalties which it
ordains for them — as between the fine, or the im
prisonment, or the death, upon the one hand ; and
the act of violence, whether more or less outrage
ous, upon the other. The natural, again, is exem
plified in the workings of the human constitution ;
there being a connection, in necessity and nature,
between the temper which prompted the act of
violence, and the wretchedness which it inflicts on
him who is the unhappy subject, in his own bosom,
of its fierce and restless agitations. It is thus that
not only is virtue termed its own reward, but vice
its own greatest plague or self-tormentor. We
have no information of the arbitrary rewards or
punishments in a future state, but from revelation

168 POWER AND OPERATION OF HABIT.
alone. But of the natural, we have only to sup
pose, that the existing constitution of man, and
his existing habits, shall be borne with him to the
land of eternity; and we may inform ourselves
now of these, by the experience of our own felt
and familiar nature. Our own experience can tell
that the native delights of virtue, unaided by any
high physical gratifications, and only if not dis
turbed by grievous physical annoyances, were
enough of themselves to constitute an elysium of
pure and perennial happiness : and, again, that the
native agonies of vice, unaided by any inflictions
of physical suffering, and only if unalleviated by
a perpetual round of physical enjoyments, were
enough of themselves to constitute a dire and
dreadful Pandemonium. They are not judicially
awarded, but result from the workings of that
constitution which God hath given to us ; and
they speak as decisively the purpose and character
of Him who is the author of that constitution, as
would any code of jurisprudence proclaimed from
the sanctuary of heaven, and which assigned to
virtue, on the one hand, the honours and rewards
of a blissful immortality — to vice, on the other, a
place of anguish among the outcasts of a fiery
condemnation.

169

CHAPTER IV.
On the General Adaptation of External Nature to
the Moral Constitution of Man.
1. . It needs but a cursory observation of life to
be made sensible, that man has not been endowed
with a conscience, without, at the same time, being
placed in a theatre which afforded the most abun
dant scope and occasion for its exercise. The
truth is, that, in the multitude of fellow-beings by
whom he is surrounded, and in the manifold variety
of his social and family relations, there is a per
petual call on his sense of right and wrong — inso
much, that to the doings of every hour throughout
his walking existence, one or other of these moral
designations is applicable. It might have been
stigmatized as the example of a mal-adjustment in
the circumstances of our species, had man been
provided with a waste feeling or a waste faculty,
which remained dormant and unemployed from
the want of counterpart objects that were suited
to it. The wisdom of God admits of glorious vin
dication against any such charge in the physical
department of our nature, where the objective and
subjective have been made so marvellously to har
monize with each other ; there being, in the ma-

170 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
terial creation, sights of infinitely varied loveliness,
and sounds of as varied melody, and many thou-
sand tastes and odours of exquisite gratification,
and distinctions innumerable of touch and feeling,
to meet the whole compass and diversity of the
human senses — multiplying without end, both the
notice that we receive from external things, and
the enjoyments that we derive from them. And
as little in. the moral department of our nature, is
any of its faculties, and more especially the great
and master faculty of all, left to languish from the
want of occupation. The whole of life, in fact,
is crowded with opportunities for its employment
— or, rather, instead of being represented as the
subject of so many distinct and ever- recurring calls,
conscience may well be represented as the constant
guide and guardian of human life ; and, for the
right discharge of this its high office, as being kept
on the alert perpetually. The creature on whom
conscience hath laid the obligation of refraining
from all mischief, and rendering to society all
possible good, lives under a responsibility which
never for a single moment is suspended. He may
be said to possess a continuity of moral being;
and morality, whether of a good or evil hue, tinges
the whole current of his history. It is a thing of
constancy as well as a thing of frequency; for,
even when not carried forth into action, it is not
dormant, but possesses the mind in the form of a
cherished purpose or cherished principle, or, as

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 17 1
the Romans expressed it, of a perpetual will either
to that which is good or evil. But over and above
this, the calls to action are innumerable. In the
wants of others ; in their powers o'f enjoyment ; in
their claims on our equity, our protection, or our
kindness ; in the various openings and walks of
usefulness ; in the services which even the hum
blest might render to those of their own family, or
household, or country ; in the application of that
comprehensive precept, to do good unto all men
as we have opportunity — we behold a prodigious
number and diversity of occasions for the exercise
of moral principle. It is possible that the lessons
of a school may not be arduous enough nor diver
sified enough for the capacity of a learner. But
this cannot be affirmed of that school of discipline,
alike arduous and unremitting, to which the great
Author of our being hath introduced us. Along
with the moral capacity by which He hath endowed
us, He hath provided a richly furnished gymnasium
for its exercises and its trials — where we may earn,
if not the triumphs of virtue, at least some delicious
foretastes of that full and final blessedness for which
the scholarship of human life, with its manifold
engagements and duties, is so obviously fitted to
prepare us.
2. But let us now briefly state the adaptation of
external nature to the moral constitution of man,
with a reference to that threefold generality which
we have already expounded. We have spoken of

172 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
the supremacy of conscience, and of the inherent
pleasures and pains of virtue and vice, and of the
law and operation of habit, as forming three dis-
tinct arguments for the moral goodness of Him
who hath so constructed our nature, that by its
workings alone, man should be so clearly and
powerfully warned to a life of righteousness-
should in the native and immediate joys of recti
tude earn so precious a reward—and, finally, should
be led onward to such a state of character, in re-
spect of its confirmed good or confirmed evil, as
to afford one of the likeliest prognostications which
nature offers to our view of an immortality beyond
the grave, where we shall abundantly reap the con-
sequence of our present doings, in either the hap
piness of established virtue, or the utter wretched
ness and woe of our then inveterate depravity.
But hitherto we have viewed this nature of man
rather as an individual and insulated constitution,
than as a mechanism acted upon by any forces or
influences from without. It is in this latter aspect
that we are henceforth to regard it ; and now only
it is that we enter on the proper theme of our
volume, or that the adaptations of the objective to
the subjective begin to open upon us. It will still
be recollected, however,* that in our view of ex
ternal nature, we comprehend, not merely all that
is external to the world of mind— for this would
have restricted us to the consideration of those
* See Introductory Chapter, 1, 2, 3.

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 173
reciprocal actings which take place between mind
and matter. We further comprehend all that is
external to one individual mind, and therefore the
other minds which are around it ; and so we have
appropriated, as forming a part of our legitimate
subject, the actings and reactings that take place
between man and man in society.
3. And first, in regard to the power and sen
sibility of conscience, there is a most important
influence brought to bear on each individual pos
sessor of this faculty from without, and by his fel
low-men. It will help us to understand it aright,
if we reflect on a felt and familiar experience of
all men — even the effect of a very slight notice,
often of a single word from one of our companions,
to recall some past scene or transaction of our
lives, which had long vanished from our remem
brance; and would, but for this reawakening,
have remained in deep oblivion to the end of our
days. The phenomenon can easily be explained
by the laws of suggestion. Our wonted trains of
thought might never have conducted the mind to
any thought or recollection of the event in ques
tion — whereas, on the occurrence of even a very
partial intimation, all the associated circumstances
come into vivid recognition ; and we are trans
ported back again to the departed realities of
former years, that had lain extinct within us for
so long a period, and might have been extinct for
ever, if not lighted up again by an extraneous

174 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
application. How many are the days since early
boyhood, of which not one trace or vestige now
abides upon the memory ! Yet perhaps there is
not one of these days, the history of which could
not be recalled, by means of some such external
or foreign help to the remembrance of it. Let us
imagine, for example, that a daily companion had,
unknown to us, kept a minute and statistical jour
nal of all the events we personally shared in ; and
the likelihood is, that, if admitted to the perusal
of this document, even after the lapse of half a life
time, our memory would depone to many thousand
events, which had else escaped into utter and irre
coverable forgetfulness. It is certainly remark
able, that, on some brief utterance by another, the
stories of former days should suddenly reappear,
as if in illumined characters, on the tablet from
which they had so totally faded ; that the mention
of a single circumstance, if only the link of a train,
should conjure to life again a whole host of sleep
ing recollections : And so, in each of our fellow-
men, might we have a remembrancer, who can
vivify our consciousness anew, respecting scenes
and transactions of our former history which had
long gone by ; and which, after having vanished
once from a solitary mind left to its own processes,
would have vanished everlastingly.,
4. It is thus, that, not only can one man make
instant translation of his own memory; but on
certain subjects, he can even make instant trans-

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 175
lation of his own intelligence into the mind of
another. A shrewd discerner of the heart, when
laying open its heretofore unrevealed mysteries,
makes mention of things which at the moment
we feel to be novelties ; but which, almost at the
same moment, are felt and recognised by us as
truths — and that, not because we receive them
upon his authority, but on the independent view
that ourselves have of their own evidence. His
utterance, in fact, has evoked from the cell of
their imprisonment, remembrances, which but for
him might never have been awakened ; and which,
when thus summoned into existence, are so many
vouchers for the perfect wisdom and truth of what
he tells. A thousand peculiarities of life and
character, till then unnoticed, are no sooner heard
by us, although for the first time in our lives, than
they shine before the mind's eye, in the light of a
satisfying demonstration. And the reason is, that
the materials of their proof have been actually
stored up within us, by the history and experience
of former years, though in chambers of forgetful
ness — whence, however, they are quickly and vi
vidly called forth, as if with the power of a talis
man, by the voice of him, who no sooner announces
his proposition, than he suggests the by-gone re
collections of our own which serve to confirm it.
The pages of the novelist, or the preacher, or the
moral essayist, though all of them should deal in
statements alone, without the formal allegation of

176 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
evidence, may be informed throughout with evi
dence, notwithstanding; and that, because each
of them speaks to the consciousness of his readers,
unlocking a treasury of latent recollections, which
no sooner start again into being, than they become
witnesses for the sagacity and admirable sense of
him with whom all this luminous and satisfying
converse is held. It is like the holding up of a
mirror, or the response of an echo to a voice.
What the author discovers, the reader promptly
and presently discerns. The one utters new
things ; but that light of immediate manifestation
in which the other beholds them, is struck out of
old materials which himself too had long since
appropriated, but laid up in a dormitory, where
they might have slumbered for ever, had it not
been for that voice which charmed them anew
into life and consciousness. This is the only way
in which the instant recognition of truths before
unheard of and unknown can possibly be ex
plained. It is because their evidence lies enve
loped in the reminiscences of other days, which
had long passed into oblivion ; but are again pre
sented to the notice of the mind by the power of
association. 5. This is properly a case of intellectual rather
than of moral adaptation ; and is only now ad
verted to for the purpose of illustration. For a
decayed conscience is susceptible of like resusci
tation with a decayed memory. In treating of the

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 177
effects of habit, we briefly noticed* the gradual
weakening of conscience, as the indulgences of
vice were persisted in. Its remonstrances, how
ever ineffectual, may, at the first, have had a part
in that train of thought and feeling, which com
mences with a temptation, and is consummated in
guilt ; but in proportion to the frequency where
with the voice of conscience is hushed, or over
borne, or refused entertainment by the mind, in
that proportion does it lift a feebler and a fainter
voice afterwards — till at length it may come to be
unheard ; and any suggestions from this faculty
may either pass unheeded, or perhaps drop out of
the train altogether. It is thus that many a foul
or horrid immorality may come at length to be
perpetrated without the sense or feeling of its
enormity. Conscience, with the repeated stiflings
it has undergone, may, as if on the eve of extinc
tion, have ceased from its exercises. This moral
insensibility forms, in truth, one main constituent
in the hardihood of crime. The conscience is
cradled into a state of stupefaction ; and the crimi
nal, now a desperado in guilt, may prosecute his
secret depravities, with no relentings from within,
and no other dread upon his spirit than that of
discovery by his fellow-men.
6. And it is on the event of such discovery that
we meet with the phenomenon in question. When
that guilt, to which he had himself become so pro-
* See Chap. iii. 6. of this Part.
VOL. I. M

178 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
foundly insensible, is at length beheld in the light
of other minds, it is then that the scales are made
to fall from the eyes of the offender ; and he, as if
suddenly awoke from lethargy, stands aghast be
fore the spectacle of his own worthlessness. It is
not the shame of detection, nor the fear of its
consequences, which forms the whole of this dis
tress. These may aggravate the suffering, but
they do not altogether compose it; for often, be
sides, is there a resurrection of the moral sensibili
ties within the bosom of the unhappy criminal, as
if relumed at the touch of sympathy, with the
pronounced judgments and feelings of other men.
When their unperverted and unwarped conscien
ces, because free from the delusions which encom
pass his own, give forth a righteous sentence, they
enlist his conscience upon their side, which then
reasserts its power, and again speaks to him in a
voice of thunder. When that continuous train
between the first excitement of some guilty pas
sion, and its final gratification, from which the
suggestions of the moral faculty had been so care
fully excluded, is thus arrested and broken — then
does conscience, as if emancipated from a spell, at
times recover from the infatuation which held it;
and utter reproaches of its own, more terrible to
the sinner's heart than all the execrations of gene
ral society. And whatever shall forcibly terminate
the guilty indulgence, may, by interrupting the
accustomed series of thoughts, and purposes, and

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 179
passions, also dissipate and put an end to the in
veteracy of this moral or spiritual blindness. The
confinement of a prison-house may do it. The
confinement of a death-bed may do it. And ac
cordingly, on these occasions, does conscience,
after an interval it would seem, not of death but
only of suspended animation, come forth with the
might of an avenger, and make emphatic repre
sentation of her wrongs.
7. But this influence which we have attempted
to exhibit in bold relief by means of rare and
strong exemplification, is in busy and perpetual
operation throughout society — and that, more to
prevent crime than to punish it ; rather, to main
tain the conscience in freshness and integrity, than
to reanimate it from a state of decay, or to recall
its aberrations. Indeed, its restorative efficacy,
though far more striking, is not so habitual, nor in
the whole amount so salutary, as its counteractive
efficacy. The truth is, that we cannot frequent
the companionships of human life, without observ
ing the constant circulation and reciprocal play of
the moral judgments among men— with whom
there is not a more favourite or familiar exercise,
than that of discussing the conduct, and pronounc
ing on the deserts of each other. It is thus that
every individual, liable in his own case to be mis
led or blinded by the partialities of interest and
passion, is placed under the observation and guar
dianship of his fellows— who, exempted from his
m 2

180 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
personal or particular bias, give forth a righteous
sentence, and cause it to be heard. A pure moral
light is by this means kept up in society, composed
of men whose thoughts are ever employed in " ac
cusing or else excusing one another" — so that every
individual conscience receives an impulse and a
direction from sympathy with the consciences
around it. We are aware that the love of applause
intervenes at this point as a distinct and auxiliary
influence. But the primary influence is a moral
one. Each man lives under a consciousness of
the vigilant and discerning witnesses who are on
every side of him ; and his conscience, kept on
the alert, and kept in accordance with theirs, acts
both more powerfully and more purely, than if
left to the decay and the self-deception of its own
withering solitude. The lamp which might have
waxed dim by itself, revives its fading lustre, by
contact and communication with those which burn
more brightly in other bosoms than its own ; and
this law of interchange between mind and mind,
forms an important adaptation in the mechanism
of human society.
8. But, to revert for a moment to the revival of
conscience after that its sensibilities had become
torpid for a season ; and they are quickened anew,
as if by sympathy, with the moral judgments of
other men. This phenomenon of conscience seems
to afford another glimpse or indication of futurity.
It at least tells with what facility that Being, who

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 181
hath all the resources of infinity at command,
could, and that by an operation purely mental,
inflict the vengeance of a suffering the most ex
quisite, on the children of disobedience. He has
only to re-open the fountains of memory and con
science ; and this will of itself cause distillation
within the soul of the waters of bitterness. And
if in the voice of earthly remembrancers and earthly
judges, we observe such a power of reawakening
— we might infer, not the possibility alone, but the
extreme likelihood of a far more vivid reawaken
ing, when the offended Lawgiver himself takes the
judgment into His own hands. If the rebuke of
human tongues and human eyes be of such force
to revive the sleeping agony within us, what may
we not feel, when the adverse sentence is pro
nounced against us from the throne of God, and
in the midst of a universal theatre ! If, in this
our little day, the condemnation is felt to be in
supportable, that twinkles upon us from the thou
sand secondary and subordinate lustres by which
we are surrounded — what must it be, when He,
by whose hand they have all been lighted up,
turns towards us the strength of His own counte
nance, and, with His look of reprobation, sends
forth trouble and dismay over the hosts of the
rebellious !*
* Dr. Abercrombie, in his interesting work on the Intellectual
Powers, states some remarkable cases of resuscitated and enlarged
memory, which remind one of the explanation given by Mr.

182 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
9. But besides the pleasures and pains of con
science, there is, in the very taste and feeling of
moral qualities, a pleasure or a pain. This formed
our second general argument in favour of God's
righteous administration ; and our mental consti
tution, even when viewed singly, furnishes suffi
cient materials on which to build it. But the ar
gument is greatly strengthened and enhanced by
the adaptation to that constitution of external
nature, more especially as exemplified in the recip
rocal influences which take place between mind
and mind in society : for the effect of this adapta
tion is to multiply both the pleasures of virtue and
the sufferings of vice. The first, the original plea
sure, is that which is felt by the virtuous man
himself; as, for example, by the benevolent, in
the very sense and feeling of that kindness whereby
his heart is actuated. The second is felt by him
who is the object of this kindness — for merely in
the conscious possession of another's good-will,
there is a great and distinct enjoyment. And then
the manifested kindness of the former awakens
gratitude in the bosom of the latter; and this,
too, is a highly pleasurable emotion. And lastly,
gratitude sends back a delicious incense to the be
nefactor who awakened it. By the purely mental
interchange of these affections, there is generated
Coleridge of the opening of the books in the day of judgment.
It is on the opening of the book of conscience that the sinner is
made to feel the truth and righteousness of his condemnation.

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 183
a' prodigious amount of happiness ; and that, alto
gether independent of the gratifications which are
yielded by the material gifts of liberality on the
one hand, or by the material services of gratitude
on the other. Insomuch, that we have only to
imagine a reign of perfect virtue ; and then, in
spite of the physical ills which essentially and in
evitably attach to our condition, we should feel as
if we had approximated very nearly to a state of
perfect enjoyment among men— or, in other words,
that the bliss of paradise would be almost fully
realized upon earth, were but the moral graces
and charities of paradise firmly established there,
and in full operation. Let there be honest and
universal good-will in every bosom, and this be
responded to from all who are the objects of it by
an honest gratitude back again ; let kindness, in
all its various effects and manifestations, pass and
repass from one heart and countenance to another ;
let there be a universal courteousness in our streets,
and let fidelity and affection and all the domestic
virtues take up their secure and lasting abode in
every family ; let the succour and sympathy of a
willing neighbourhood be ever in readiness to meet
and to overpass all the want and wretchedness to
which humanity is liable ; let truth, and honour,
and inviolable friendship between man and man,
banish all treachery and injustice from the world ;
in the walks of merchandise, let an unfailing in
tegrity on the one side, have the homage done to

184 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
it of unbounded confidence on the other — inso-
much, that each man, reposing with conscious
safety on the uprightness and attachment of his
fellow, and withal rejoicing as much in the pros
perity of an acquaintance as be should in his own,
there would come to be no place for the harass-
men ts and the heartburnings of mutual suspicion,
or resentment, or envy; — who does not see, in the
state of a society thus constituted and thus harmo
nized, the palpable evidence of a nature so framed,
that the happiness of the world and the righteous
ness of the world kept pace the one with the other ?
And it is all important to remark of this happiness,
that, in respect both to quality and amount, it
mainly consists of moral elements ; so that while
every giver who feels as he ought, experiences a
delight in the exercise of generosity which rewards
him a hundred-fold for all its sacrifices— every
receiver who feels as he ought, rejoices infinitely
more in the sense of the benefactor's kindness,
than in the physical gratification or fruit of the
benefactor's liberality. It is saying much for the
virtuousness of Him who hath so moulded and so
organized the spirit of man, that, apart from sense
and from all its satisfactions, but from the ethereal
play of the good affections alone, the highest feli
city of our nature should be generated; that;
simply by the interchange of cordiality between
man and man, and one benevolent emotion re
echoing to another, there should be yielded to

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 185
human hearts so much of the truth and substance
of real enjoyment — so that did justice, and charity,
and holiness, descend from heaven to earth, taking
full and universal possession of our species, the
happiness of heaven would be sure to descend
along with them. Could any world be pointed
out, where the universality and reign of vice ef
fected the same state of blissful and secure enjoy
ment that virtue would in ours — we should infer
that he was the patron and the friend of vice who
had dominion over it. But when assured, on the
experience we have of our actual nature, that in
the world we occupy, a perfect morality would,
but for certain physical calamities, be the har
binger of a perfect enjoyment — we regard this as
an incontestable evidence for the moral goodness
of our own actual Deity.
10. And in such an argument as ours, although
the main beatitudes of virtue are of a moral and
spiritual character, its subserviency to the physical
enjoyments of life ought not to be overlooked,
though, perhaps, too obvious to be dwelt upon.
The most palpable of these subserviencies is the
effect of benevolence in diffusing abundance among
the needy, and so alleviating the ills of their des
titution. This is so very patent as not to require
being expatiated on. Yet we might notice here
one important adaptation, connected with the ex
ercise of this morality — realized but in part, so
long as virtue has only a partial occupation in

186 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
society; but destined, we hope, to receive its
entire and beautiful accomplishment, when virtue
shall have become universal. It is well known
that certain collateral but very serious mischiefs
attend the exercise of a profuse and capricious
and indiscriminate charity ; that it may, in fact,
augment and aggravate the indigence which it tries
to relieve, beside working a moral deterioration
among the humbler classes, by ministering to the
reckless improvidence of the dissipated and the
idle ; an operation alike injurious to the physical
comfort of the one party, and to the moral comfort
of the other. These effects are inevitable, so long
as the indiscriminate benevolence of the rich
meets with an indefinite selfishness and rapacity
on the part of the poor. But this evil will be
mitigated and at length done away, with the
growth of principle among mankind ; and more
especially, when, instead of being confined to one
of these classes, it is partitioned among both.
Let the wealthy be as generous as they ought in
their doings, and the poor be as moderate as they
ought in their expectations and desires ; and then
will that problem, which has so baffled the politi
cians and economists of England, find its own
spontaneous, while, at the same time, its best ad
justment. Let an exuberant yet well-directed
liberality on the one side come into encounter,
instead of a sordid and insatiable appetency, with
the recoil of delicacy and self-respect upon the

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 187
other, and the noble independence of men who
will work with their own hands rather than be
burdensome ; and then will the benefactions of
the wealthy, and the wants of the indigent, not
only meet but overpass. The willingness of the
one party to give, will exceed the willingness of
the other to receive ; and an evil which threatens
to rend society asunder, and which law in her
attempts to remedy has only exasperated, will at
length give way before the omnipotence of moral
causes. This, as being one of many specimens,
tells most significantly that man was made for vir
tue, or that this was the purpose of God in mak
ing him — when we find, that through no other
medium than the morality of the people, can the
sorest distempers of society be healed. The im
potence of human wisdom, and of every political
expedient which this wisdom can devise for the
wellbeing of a state, when virtue languishes among
the people, is one of the strongest proofs which
experience affords, that virtue was the design of
our creation. And we know not how more em
phatic demonstration can be given of a virtuous
Deity, than when we find society to have been so
constructed by His hands, that virtue forms the
great alternative on which the secure or lasting
prosperity of a commonwealth is hinged — so that
for any aggregate of human beings to be right phy
sically and right economically, it is the indispens-

188 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
able, while at the same time the all effectual con-
dition, that they should be right morally.
11. Nothing can be more illustrative of the
character of God, or more decisive of the ques
tion, whether His preference is for universal vir-
tue or for universal vice in the world, than to
consider the effect of each on the wellbeing' of
human society — even that society which He did
Himself ordain, and whose mechanism is the con
trivance of His own intellect, and the work of
His own hands. It may not be easy to explain
the origin of that moral derangement into which
the species has actually fallen ; but it affords no
obscure or uncertain indication of what the species
was primarily made for, when we picture to our
selves the difference between a commonwealth of
vice and a commonwealth of virtue. We have
already said enough on the obvious connection
which obtains between the righteousness of a na
tion and the happiness of its families ; and it were
superfluous to dilate on the equally obvious con
nection which obtains between a state of general
depravity, and a state of general wretchedness and
disorder. And the counterpart observation holds
true, that, as the beatitudes of the one condition,
so the sufferings of the other are chiefly made up
of moral elements. If, in the former, there be a
more precious and heartfelt enjoyment in the pos
session of another's kindness, than in all the ma
terial gifts and services to which that kindness has

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 189
prompted him — so in the latter, may it often hap
pen, that the agony arising from simple conscious
ness of another's malignity, will greatly exceed
any physical hurt, whether in person or property,
that we ever shall sustain from him. A loss that
we suffer from the dishonesty of another is far more
severely felt than a tenfold loss occasioned by
accident or misfortune — or, in other words, we
find the moral provocation to be greatly more
pungent and intolerable than the physical calamity.
So that beside the material damage, too palpable
to be insisted on at any length, which vice and
violence inflict upon society, there should be taken
into account the soreness of spirit, the purely men
tal distress and disquietude which follow in their
train — of which we have already seen how much
is engendered even in the workings of one indivi
dual mind ; but susceptible of being inflamed to
a degree indefinitely higher, by the reciprocal
working of minds, all of them hating and all hate
ful to each other. In this mere antipathy of the
heart, more especially when aided by nearness and
the opportunities of mutual expression, there are
sensations of most exquisite bitterness. There is
a wretchedness in the mere collision of hostile
feelings themselves, though they should break not
forth into overt-acts of hostility ; in the simple
demonstrations of malignity, apart from its doings ;
in the war but of words and looks and fierce ges
ticulations, though no violence should be inflicted

190 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
on the one side or sustained upon the other. To
make the aggressor in these purely mental con
flicts intensely miserable, it is enough that he
should experience within him the agitations and
the fires of a resentful heart. To make the reci
pient intensely miserable, it is enough that he
should be demoniacally glared upon by a resentful
eye. Were this power which resides in the emo
tions by themselves sufficiently reflected on, it
would evince how intimately connected, almost
how identified, wickedness and wretchedness are
with each other. To realize the miseries of a
state of war, it is not necessary that there should
be contests of personal strength. The mere con
tests of personal feeling will suffice. Let there be
mutual rage and mutual revilings; let there be
the pangs and the outcries of fierce exasperation ;
let there be the continual droppings of peevish
ness and discontent ; let disdain meet with equal
disdain ; or even, instead of scorn from the lofty,
let there be but the slights and the insults of con
tempt from men who themselves are of the most
contemptible ; let there be haughty defiance, and
spiteful derision, and the mortifications of affronted
and irritated pride — in the tumults of such a scene,
though tumults of the mind alone, there were
enough to constitute a hell of assembled maniacs
or of assembled malefactors. The very presence
and operation of these passions would form their
own sorest punishment. To have them perpet-

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 191
ually in ourselves is to have a hell in the heart.
To meet with them perpetually in others, is to be
compassed about with a society of fiends, to be
beset with the miseries of a Pandemonium.
12. Whether we look then to the separate or
the social constitution of humanity, we observe
abundant evidence for the mind and meaning of
the Deity, who both put together the elements of
each individual nature, and the elements which
enter into the composition of society. We cannot
imagine a more decisive indication of His favour
being on the side of moral good, and His displea
sure against moral evil, than that, by the working
of each of these constitutions, virtue and happiness
on the one hand, vice and wretchedness on the
other, should be so intimately and inseparably
allied. Such sequences or laws of nature as these,
speak as distinctly the character of Him who estab
lished them, as any laws of jurisprudence would
the character of the monarch by whom they were
enacted. And to learn this lesson, we do not
need to wait for the distant consequences of vice
or virtue. We at once feel the distinction put
upon them by the hand of the Almighty, in the
instant sensations which He hath appended to each
of them — implicated as their effects are with the
very fountain-head of moral being, and turning
the hearts which they respectively occupy, into
the seats either of wildest anarchy, or of serene
and blissful enjoyment.

192 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
13. The law and operation of habit, as exem
plified in one individual mind, formed the theme
of our third general argument. The only adap
tation which we shall notice to this part of our
mental constitution in the framework of society,
is that afforded by the changes which it under-
goes in the flux of its successive generations — in
virtue of which, the tender susceptibilities of child
hood are placed under the influence of that ascen-
dant seniority which precedes or goes before it.
At first sight it may be thought of this peculiarity,
that it tells equally in both directions — that is,
either in the transmission and accumulation of
vice, or in the transmission and accumulation of
virtue in the world. But there is one circum
stance of superiority in favour of the latter, which
bids us look hopefully onward to the final preva
lence of the good over the evil. We are aware of
the virulence wherewith, in families, the crime and
profligacy of a depraved parentage must operate
on the habits of their offspring ; and of the deadly
poison which, in crowded cities, passes with quick
descent from the older to the younger, along the
links of youthful companionship ; and even of
those secret, though we trust rare and monstrous
societies, which, in various countries and various
ages, were held for the celebration of infernal
orgies, for the initiation of the yet unknowing or
unpractised in the mysteries of vice. But after
every deduction has been made for these, who

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 193
does not see that the systematic and sustained
effort, the wide and general enterprise, the com
bination of numbers in the face of day and with
the sympathies of an approving public, give a
prodigious balance on the side of moral education ?
The very selfishness of vice and expansiveness of
virtue give rise to this difference between them —
the one concentered on its own personal enjoy
ments, and, with a few casual exceptions, rather
heedless of the principles of others than set on any
schemes or speculations of proselytism ; the other,
by its very nature, aspiring after the good of the
whole species, and bent on the propagation of its
own likeness, till righteousness and truth shall
have become universal among men. Accordingly,
all the ostensible countenance and exertion, in the
cause of learning, whether by governments or
associations, is on the side of virtue ; while no
man could dare to front the public eye, with a
scheme of discipleship in the lessons whether of
fraud or profligacy. The clear tendency then is
to impress a right direction on the giant power of
education ; and when this is brought to bear, more
systematically and generally than heretofore, on
the pliant boyhood of the land — we behold, in
the operation of habit, a guarantee for the pro
gressive conquests, and at length the ultimate and
universal triumph of good over evil in society.
Our confidence in this result is greatly enhanced,
when we witness the influence even of but one
VOL. I. N

194 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
mind among the hundreds of any given neigh
bourhood — if zealously and wisely directed to the
object of moral and economical improvement.
Let that most prolific of all philanthropy then be
fully and fairly set on foot, which operates, by
means of education, on the early germs of charac
ter ; and we shall have the most effective of all
agency engaged, for the production of the likeliest
of all results. The law of habit, when looked to
in the manageable ductility of its outset, presents
a mighty opening for the production of a new era
in the moral history of mankind ; and the same
law of habit, when looked to in the maturity of its
fixed and final establishment, encourages the ex
pectation of a permanent as well as universal reign
of virtue in the world.
14. Even in the yet chaotic and rudimental
state of the world, we can observe the powers and
the likelihoods of such a consummation ; and what
gives an overbearing superiority to the chances on
the side of virtue is, that parents, although the
most sunken in depravity themselves, welcome
the proposals, and receive with gratitude the ser
vices, of Christian or moral philanthropy in behalf
of their families. However hopeless then of refor
mation among those whose vicious habits have be
come inveterate, it is well that there should be so
wide and unobstructed an access to those among
whom the habits have yet to be formed. It is this
which places education on such firm vantage-

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 195
ground, if not for reclaiming the degeneracy of
individuals, yet for reclaiming after the lapse of a
few generations the degeneracy of the species ;
and, however abortive many of the schemes and
enterprises in this highest walk of charity may
hitherto have proved, yet the manifest and grow
ing attention to the cause does open a brilliant
moral perspective for the ages that are to come.
The experience of what has been done locally by a
few zealous individuals, warrants our most cheer
ing anticipations of what may yet be done univer
sally — when the powers of that simple but mighty
instrument which they employ, if brought to bear
on that most malleable of all subjects, the infancy
of human existence, come to be better understood,
and put into busy operation over the whole length
and breadth of the land. In the grievous defect
of our national institutions, and the wretched
abandonment of a people left to themselves, and
who are permitted to live recklessly and at random
as they list — we see enough to account both for
the profligacy of our crowded cities, and for the
sad demoralization of our neglected provinces.
But on the other hand we feel assured, that, in an
efficient system of wise and well-principled in
struction, there are capabilities within our reach
for a great and glorious revival. We might not
know the reason why, in the moral world, so many
ages of darkness and depravity should have been
permitted to pass by — any more than we know
N 2

196 ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE, ETC.
the reason why, in the natural world, the trees of
a forest, instead of starting all at once into the
full efflorescence and stateliness of their manhood,
have to make their slow and laborious advance
ment to maturity, cradled in storms, and alter
nately drooping or expanding with the vicissitudes
of the seasons. But, though unable to scan all
the cycles either of the moral or natural economy,
yet may we recognise such influences at work, as,
when multiplied and developed to the uttermost,
are abundantly capable of regenerating the world.
One of the likeliest of these influences is the
power of education — to the perfecting of which
so many minds are earnestly directed at this mo
ment ; and for the general acceptance of which in
society, we have a guarantee, in the strongest
affections and fondest wishes of the fathers and
mothers of families.

197

CHAPTER V.
On the special and subordinate Adaptations of Ex
ternal Nature to the Moral Constitution of Man.
1. We have hitherto confined our attention to
certain great and simple phenomena of our moral
nature, which, though affording a different sort of
evidence for the being of God from the organic
and complicated structures of the material world
—yet, on the hypothesis of an existent Deity, are
abundantly decisive of His preference for virtue
over vice, and so of the righteousness of His own
character. That he should have inserted a great
master faculty in every human bosom, all whose
decisions are on the side of justice, benevolence,
and truth, and condemnatory of their opposites ;
that He should have invested this conscience with
such powers of instant retribution, in the triumphs
of that complacency wherewith he so promptly
rewards the good, and the horrors of that remorse
wherewith He as promptly chastises the evil ; that
beside these, He should have so distinguished be
tween virtue and vice,* as that the emotions and
* Butler, in Part I. Chapter III. of his Analogy, makes the
following admirable discrimination between actions themselves,
and that quality ascribed to them which we call virtuous or vi*

198 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
exercises of the former should all be pleasurable,
and of the latter painful to the taste of the inner
man ; that He should have so ordained the human
constitution, as that by the law of habit, virtuous
and vicious lives, or series of acts having these
respective moral qualities, should issue in the fixed
and permanent results of virtuous and vicious
characters — these form the important generalities
of our moral nature : And while they obviously
and immediately announce to us a present demon
stration in favour of virtue, they seem to indicate a
preparation and progress towards a state of things,
when, after that the moral education of the pre
sent life has been consummated, the great Ruler
of men will manifest the eternal distinction which
he puts between the good and the evil.
cious : — " An action by which any natural passion is gratified,
or fortune acquired, procures delight or advantage, abstracted
from all consideration of the morality of such action : conse
quently, the pleasure or advantage in this case is gained by the
action itself, not by the morality, the virtuousness, or viciousness
of it, though it be, perhaps, virtuous or vicious. Thus to say,
such an action or course of behaviour, procured such pleasure
or advantage, or brought on such inconvenience and pain, is
quite a different thing from saying, that such good or bad effect
was owing to the virtue or vice of such action or behaviour. In
one case, an action abstracted from all moral consideration, pro
duced its effect. In the other case— for it will appear that there
are such cases— the morality of the action, the action under a
moral consideration, that is, the virtuousness or viciousness of it,
produced the effect."

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 199
2. Now in these few simple sequences, however
strongly and unequivocally they evince the char
acter of a God already proved or already presup
posed, we have not the same intense evidence for
design, which is afforded by the distinct parts or
the distinct principles of a very multifarious com
bination. Yet the constitution of man's moral
nature is not defective in this evidence — though
certainly neither so prolific nor so palpable in our
mental as in our anatomical system. Still, how
ever, there is a mechanism in mind as well as body,
with a diversity of principles, if not a diversity of
parts, consisting of so many laws, grafted it may
be on a simple and indivisible substance, yet yield
ing, in the fact of their beneficial concurrence, no
inconsiderable argument for the wisdom and good
ness of Him who framed us. Nor does it matter,
as we have already said, whether these are all of
them original, or some of them, as the analysts of
mind have laboured to manifest, only derivative
laws in the human constitution. If the former,
we have an evidence grounded on the beneficial
conjunction of a greater number of independent
laws. If the latter, we are reduced to fewer inde
pendent laws — but these all the more prolific of
useful applications, each of which applications is
grounded on a beneficial adaptation of some pe
culiar circumstances, in the operation of which it
is that the primary is transmuted into a secondary

200 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
law.* But whether the one or the other, they
exhibit phases of humanity distinct from any that
we have yet been employed in contemplating ; a
number of special affections, each characterized by
its own name, and pointing to its own separate
object, yet all of them performing an important
subsidiary part, for the moral good both of the
individual and of the species ; and presenting us,
therefore, with the materials of additional evidence
for a moral and beneficent design in the formation
of our race.
3. When we look to the beauty which over
spreads the face of nature, and the exquisite gra
tification which it ministers to the senses of man —
we cannot doubt either the taste for beauty which
resides in the primeval Mind that emanated all this ,
gracefulness, or the benevolence that endowed man
with a kindred taste, and so fitted him for a kin
dred enjoyment. This conclusion, however, like
any moral conclusion we have yet come to re
specting the perfections or the purposes of God,
is founded on generalities — on the general amount
of beauty in the world, and the delight wherewith
* And besides this, would it not bespeak a more comprehen
sive wisdom on the part of a human artificer, that by means of
one device, or by the application of one principle, he effected not
a few, but many distinct and beneficial purposes ; and does it
not in like manner enhance the exhibition of divine skill in the
workmanship of nature, when a single law is found to subserve
a vast and manifold variety of important uses ?

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 201
men behold and admire it. Yet, beside this, we
may draw a corroborative evidence for the same,
from the machinery of certain special contrivances
— as the construction of the calyx in plants, for
the defence of the tender blossom previous to its
expansion ; and the apparatus for scattering seeds,
whereby the earth is more fully invested with its
mantle of rich and varied garniture. And not
withstanding the blight which has so obviously
passed over the moral world, and defaced many of
its original lineaments, while it has left the mate
rialism of creation, the loveliness of its scenes and
landscapes, in a great measure untouched — still
we possess very much the same materials for a
Natural Theology, in reasoning on the element of
virtue, as in reasoning on the element of beauty.
We have first those generalities of argument which
are already expounded by us at sufficient length ;
and we have also the evidence, now to be unfolded,
of certain special provisions for the preservation
and growth of the immortal plant, in the study of
which, we shall observe more of mechanism than
we have yet contemplated ; and more, therefore,
of that peculiar argument for design, which lies in
the adaptation of varied means, in the concurrence
of distinct expedients, each helping the other on
ward to a certain beneficial consummation.
4. But we must here premise an observation
extensively applicable in mental science. When
recognising the obvious subserviency of some given

202 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
feeling or principle in the mind to a beneficial re
sult, we are apt to imagine that it was, somehow
or other, in the contemplation of this result, that
the principle was generated ; and that therefore,
instead of a distinct and original part of the hu
man constitution, it is but a derivative from an
anterior process of thought or calculation on the
part of man, in the act of reflecting on what was
most for the good of himself, or the good of so
ciety. In this way man is conceived to be in some
measure the creator of his own mental constitu
tion ; or, at least, there are certain parts of it re
garded as secondary, and the formation of which
is ascribed to the wisdom of man, which, if re
garded as instinctive and primary, would have
been directly ascribed to the wisdom of God,
There are many writers, for example, on the
origin and rights of property, who, instead of
admitting what may be termed an instinct of ap
propriation, would hold the appropriating tend
ency to be the result of human intelligence, after
experience had of the convenience and benefits of
such an arrangement. Now, on this subject we
may take a lesson from the physical constitution
of man. It is indispensable to the preservation of
our animal system, that food should be received
at certain intervals into the stomach. Yet, not
withstanding all the strength which is ascribed to
the principle of self-preservation, and all the vene
ration which is professed by the expounders of our

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 203
nature for the wisdom and foresight of man—the
Author of our frame has not left this important
interest merely to our care, or our consideration.
He has not so trusted us to ourselves ; but has
inserted among the other affections and principles
wherewith He has endowed us, the appetite of
hunger — a strong and urgent and ever-recurring
desire for food, which, it is most certain, stands
wholly unconnected with any thought on our part,
of its physical or posterior uses for the sustenance
of the body ; and from which it would appear,
that we need to be not only reminded at proper
intervals of this incumbent duty, but goaded on
to it. Could the analysts of our nature have as
certained of hunger, that it was the product of
man's reflection on the necessity of food, it might
have been quoted as an instance of the care which
man takes of himself. But it seems that he could
not be thus confided, either with his own individual
preservation, or with the preservation of his spe
cies ; and so, for the security of both these ob
jects, strong appetites had to be given him, which,
incapable of being resolved into any higher princi
ples, stand distinctly and unequivocally forth, as
instances of the care that is taken of him by God.
5. Now this, though it does not prove, yet may
prepare us to expect similar provisions in the con
stitution of our minds. Indeed the operose and
complicated system, which the great Architect of
nature hath devised for our bodies, carries in it a

204 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
sort of warning to those, who, enamoured of the
simplifications of theory, would labour to reduce
all 6ur mental phenomena to one or two principles.
There is no warrant for this in the examples which
Anatomy and Physiology, those sciences that have
to do with the animal economy of man, have placed
before our eyes. Now, though we admit not this
as evidence for the actual complexity of man's
moral economy — it may at least school away those
prepossessions of the fancy or of the taste, that
would lead us to resist or to dislike such evidence
when offered. We hold it not unlikely that the
same Being, who, to supplement the defects of
human prudence, hath furnished us with distinct
corporeal appetites, that might prompt us to ope
rations of the greatest subservient benefit both to
the individual and the species — might also, to sup
plement the defects of human wisdom and prin
ciple, have furnished us with distinct mental affec
tions or desires, both for our own particular good
and the good of society. If man could not be
left to his own guidance in matters which needed
but the anticipation of a few hours ; but to save
him from the decay and the death which must
have otherwise ensued, had so powerful a remem
brancer and instigator given to him as the appe
tite of hunger — we ought not to marvel, should it
be found that nature, in endowing him mentally,
hath presumed on his incapacity, either for wisely
devising, or for regularly acting, with a view to

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 205
distant consequences, and amid the complicated
relations of human society. It may, on the one
hand, have inserted forces, when the mere consi
deration of good effects would not have impelled ;
or, on the other hand, may have inserted checks,
when the mere consideration of evil effects would
not have arrested. Yet so it is, that, because of
the good that is thereby secured, and of the evil
that is thereby shunned — we are apt to imagine of
some of the most useful principles of our nature,
that they are, somehow, the product of human
manufacture ; the results of human intelligence,
or of rapid processes of thought by man, sitting in
judgment on the consequences of his actions, and
wisely providing either for or against them. Now
it is very true, that the anger, and the shame, and
the emulation, and the parental affection, and the
compassion, and the love of reputation, and the
sense of property, and the conscience or moral
sense — are so many forces of a mechanism, which,
if not thus furnished, and that too within certain
proportions, would run into a disorder that might
have proved destructive both of the individual and
of the species. For reasons already hinted at, we
hold it immaterial to the cause of natural theism,
whether these constitutional propensities of the
human mind are its original or its secondary laws ;
but, at all events, it is enough for any argument of
ours, that they are not so generated by the wis
dom of man, as to supersede the inference which

206 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
we draw from them, in favour both of the wisdom
and goodness of God.
6. The common definition given of anger, is an
instance of the tendency on the part of philoso
phers, if not to derive, at least to connect, the
emotions of which we have been made susceptible
with certain anterior or higher principles of our
nature. Dr. Reid tells us that the proper object
of resentment is an injury; and that as " no man
can have the notion of injustice, without having
the notion of justice," then, " if resentment be
natural to man, the notion of justice must be no
less natural."* And Dr. Brown defines anger to
be " that emotion of instant displeasure, which
arises from the feeling of injury done, or the dis
covery of injury intended, or, in many cases, from
the discovery of the mere omission of good offices
to which we conceived ourselves entitled, though
this very omission may, of itself, be regarded as
a species of injury." Now, the sense of injury
implies a sense of its opposite — a sense of justice,
* In glaring contradiction to this, is Dr. Reid's own affirma
tion regarding the brutes. He says, " that conscience is peculiar
to man ; we see no vestige of it in the brute animals. It is one
of those prerogatives by which we are raised above them." But
animals are most abundantly capable of anger — even of that
which, by a very general definition, is said to be the emotion
that is awakened by a sense of injury, which sense of injury
must imply in it the sense of its opposite, even of justice, and so
land us in the conclusion, that brutes are capable of moral con
ception, or that they have a conscience.

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 207
therefore, or the conception of a moral standard
from which the injury that has awakened the re
sentment, is felt to be a deviation. But as nothing
ought to form part of a definition which is not in
dispensable to the thing defined, it would appear,
as if, in the judgment of both these philosophers,
all who were capable of anger must also have, to
a certain degree, a capacity of moral judgment or
moral feeling. The property of resenting a hurt
inflicted upon ourselves would, at this rate, argue,
in all cases, a perception of what the moral and
equitable adjustment would be between ourselves
and others. Now, that these workings of a moral
nature are essential to the feeling of anger, is an
idea which admits of most obvious and decisive
refutation — it being an emotion to which not only
infants are competent, anterior to the first dawn-
ings of their moral nature, but even idiots, with
whom this nature is obliterated, or still more the
inferior animals who want it altogether. There
must be a sense of annoyance to originate the
feeling ; but a sense of injury, implying as it does
a power of moral judgment or sensibility, can be
in no way indispensable to an emotion, exemplified
in its utmost force and intensity by sentient crea
tures, in whom there cannot be detected even the
first rudiments of a moral nature. Two dogs,
when fighting for a bone, make as distinct and
declared an exhibition of their anger, as two hu
man beings when disputing about the boundary of

208 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
their contiguous fields. The emotion flashes as
unequivocally from any of the inferior, as it does
from the only rational and moral species on the
face of our globe — as in the vindictive glare of an
infuriated bull, or of a lioness robbed of her whelps,
and who, as if making proclamation of her wrongs,
gives forth her deep and reiterated cry to the
echoes of the wilderness. It is an emotion, in fact,
which seems co-extensive not only with moral but
with physical sensation. And, if any faith can be
placed in the physiognomy, or the natural signs, by
which irrational creatures represent what passes
within them — this passion announces itself as
vividly and discernibly in the outcries of mutual
resentment which ring throughout the amplitudes
of savage and solitary nature, as in the contests of
civilized men^
7. The truth, then, seems to be, that the office
of the moral faculty is, not to originate, but rather
to confine and qualify and regulate this emotion.
Anger, if we but study its history and actual ex
hibitions, will be found the primary and the natu
ral response to a hurt or harm or annoyance of
any sort inflicted on us by others ; and, as such,
may be quite expansive and unrestrained and open
to excitation from all points of the compass — an
terior to and apart from any consideration of its
justice, or whether, in the being who called it forth,
there have been the purpose or not of violating
our rights. Infants are fully capable of the feel-

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 209
ing, long before they have a notion of equity, or
of what is rightfully their owri and rightfully an
other's. The anger of animals, too, is, in like
manner, destitute of that moral ingredient, which
the definitions we have quoted suppose indispen
sable to the formation of it. And yet their
emitted sounds have the very expression of fierce
ness, that we meet with so often among the fel
lows of our own species. The provocation, the
resentment, the kindling glance of hostility, the
gradual heightening of the wrath, its discharge in
acts of mutual violence, and lastly, its glutted
satisfaction in the flight and even the death of
the adversary — these are all indicative of kindred
workings within, that have their outward vent in
a common and kindred physiognomy, between
him who is styled the lord of the creation, and
those beneath his feet, who are conceived to stand
at a distance that scarcely admits of comparison
in the phenomena of their nature. Even man, in
the full growth of his rational and moral nature,
will often experience the outbreakings of an anger
merely physical ; as, to state one instance out of
the many, may be witnessed in the anger wreaked
by him on the inferior animals, when, all uncon
scious of injury to him, they enter upon his fields,
or damage the fruit of his labours. The object of
a just resentment towards others, is the purposed
injustice of others towards us ; and, so far from
purposing the injustice, animals have not even the
vol. i. o

210 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
faculty of conceiving it. The moral considera
tion, then, does not enter as a constituent part
into all resentment. It is rather a superadded
quality which designates a species of it. It is not
the epithet which characterizes all anger, but is
limited to a certain kind of it. It may be as pro-
per to say of one anger that it is just, and of an
other that justice or morality has had nothing to
do with it — as it is to say of one blow by the hand
that it has been rightfully awarded, and of another
blow that such a moral characteristic is wholly in
applicable. Morality may at times characterize
both the mental feeling and the muscular per
formance; but it should be as little identified with
the One as with the other. And however much
analysts may have succeeded on other occasions, in
reducing to sameness what appeared to be separate
constituents of our nature, certain it is, that anger
cannot thus be regarded as a resulting manufac
ture from any of its higher principles. It forms a
distinct and original part of our constitution, of
which morality, whenever it exists and has the
predominance, might take the direction, without
being at all essential to the presence or operation
of it. So far from this, it is nowhere exhibited in
greater vivacity and distinctness than by those
creatures who possess but an animal, without so
much as the germ or the rudest elements of a
moral nature.
8. Anger then is an emotion that may rage and

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 211
tumultuate in a bosom into which one moral con
ception has never entered. For its excitement
nothing more seems necessary than to thwart any
desire however unreasonable, or to disappoint any
one object which the heart may chance to be set
upon. So far from a sense of justice being need
ful to originate this emotion — it is the man who,
utterly devoid of justice, would monopolize to
himself all that lies within the visible horizon, who
is most exposed to its visitation. He is the most
vulnerable to wrath from every point of the vast
circumference around him — who, conceiving the
universe to be made for himself alone, is most
insensible to the rights and interests of other men.
It is, in fact, because he is so unfurnished with the
ideas of justice, that he is so unbridled in resent
ment. Justice views the world and all its interests
as already partitioned among the various members
of the human population, each occupying his own
little domain ; and, instead of permitting anger
to expatiate at random over the universal face of
things, justice would curb and overrule its ebulli
tions in the bosom of every individual, till a tres
pass was made within the limits of that territory
which is properly and peculiarly his own. In other
words, it is the office of this virtue, not to inspire
anger, but to draw landmarks and limitations
around it ; and, so far from a high moral principle
originating this propensity, it is but an animal
o 2

212 ADAPTATIONS OF' EXTERNAL NATURE TO
propensity, restrained and kept within check and
confinement at the bidding of principle.
9. The distinction between reflective and un-
reflective anger did not escape the notice of the
sagacious Butler, as may be seen in the following
passages of a sermon upon resentment. — " Resent-
ment is of two kinds — hasty and sudden, or settled
and deliberate. The former is called anger and
often passion, which, though a general word, is
frequently appropriated and confined to the parti
cular feeling, sudden anger, as distinct from deli
berate resentment, malice and revenge." " Sud
den anger upon certain occasions is mere instinct,
as merely so, as the disposition to close our eyes
upon the apprehension of something falling into
them, and no more necessarily implies any degree
of reason. I say necessarily, for, to be sure, hasty
as well as deliberate anger, may be occasioned by
injury or contempt ; in which cases reason suggests
to our thoughts the injury and contempt which is
the occasion of the emotion : But I am speaking
of the former, only in so far as it is to be distin
guished from the latter. The only way in which
our reason and understanding can raise anger, is
by representing to our mind an injustice or injury
of some kind or other. Now momentary anger is
frequently raised, not only without any rule, but
without any reason ; that is, without any appear
ance of injury as distinct from hurt or pain. It
cannot, I suppose, be thought that this passion in

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 213
infants and the lower species of animals, and
which is often seen in man towards them, it can
not, I say, be imagined that these instances of this
emotion are the effect of reason : no, they are
occasioned by mere sensation and feeling. It is
opposition, sudden hurt, violence, which naturally
excite this passion ; and the real demerit or fault
of him who offers that violence, or is the cause of
that opposition or hurt, does not in many cases so
much as come into thought." " The reason and
end for which man was made thus liable to this
emotion, is that he might be better qualified to
prevent, and likewise or perhaps chiefly to resist
and defeat sudden force, violence, and opposition,
considered merely as such, and without regard to
the fault or demerit of him who is the author of
them ; yet, since violence may be considered in
this other and further view, as implying fault, and
since injury as distinct from harm may raise sudden
anger, sudden anger may likewise accidentally
serve to prevent or remedy such fault and injury.
But, considered as distinct from settled anger, it
stands in our nature for self-defence, and not for
the administration of justice. There are plainly
cases, and in the uncultivated parts of the world,
and where regular governments are not formed,
they frequently happen, in which there is no time
for considering, and yet to be passive is certain
destruction, in which sudden resistance is the only
security." — It is an exceeding good instance that

214 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
Bishop Butler gives of the distinction between in-:
stinctive and what may be called rational anger,
when he specifies the anger that we often feel
towards the inferior animals. There- is properly
no injury done where there is no injury intended.
And he who is incapable of conceiving what an
injury is, is not a rightful object for at least any
moral resentment. But that there is what may
be called a physical as well as a moral resentment,
is quite palpable from the positive wrath which is
felt when any thing untoward or hurtful is done
to us even by the irrational creatures. The men
who use them as instruments of service often dis
charge the most outrageous wrath upon them —
acting the part of ferocious tyrants towards these
wretched victims of their cruelty. When a com
bat takes place between man and" one of the infe
rior animals, there is a resentment felt by the for
mer just as keen and persevering, as if it were
between two human combatants. This makes it
quite obvious that there may be anger without;
any sense of designed injury on the part of him
who is the object of it. Even children, idiots,
lunatics, might all be the objects of such a resent
ment. 10. The final cause of this emotion in the in
ferior animals is abundantly obvious. It stimu
lates and ensures resistance to that violence which,
if not resisted, would often terminate in the de
struction of its object. And it probably much

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 215
oftener serves the purpose of prevention than of
defence. The first demonstration of a violence
to be offered on the one hand, when met by the
preparation and the counter-menace of an inci
pient resentment on the other, not only repels the
aggression after it has begun, but still more fre
quently, we believe, through the reaction and re
straint of fear on the otherwise attacking party,
prevents the aggression from being made. The
stout and formidable antagonists eye each other
with a sort of natural respect ; and, as if by a
common though tacit consent, wisely abstain on
either side from molestation, and pass onward with
out a quarrel. It is thus that many a fierce con
test is forborne, which, but for the operation of
anger on the one side and fear upon the other,
would most certainly have been entered upon.
And so, by a system or machinery of reciprocal
checks and counteractives, and where the mental
affections too perform the part of essential forces,
there is not that incessant warfare of extermina
tion which might have depopulated the world.
And here we might observe, that, in studying that
balance of powers and of preserving influences,
which obtains even in a commonwealth of brutes,
the uses of a mental are just as palpable as those of
a material collocation. The anger which prompts
to the resistance of aggression is as obviously in
serted by the hand of a contriver, as are the horns
or the bristles, or any other defensive weapons

216 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
wherewith the body of the animal is furnished.
The fear which wings the flight of a pursued ani
mal is as obviously intended for its safety, as is its
muscular conformation or capacity for speed.
The affection of a mother for her young points as
intelligibly to a designer's care for the preservation
of the species, as does that apparatus of nourish
ment wherewith nature hath endowed her. The
mother's fondness supplies as distinct and power
ful an argument as the mother's milk — or, in other
words, a mental constitution might, as well as a
physical constitution, be pregnant with the indica
tions of a God.
11. But to return to the special affection of
anger, with a reference more particularly to its
workings in our own species, where we have the
advantage of nearer and distincter observation.
We must be abundantly sensible of the pain which
there is, not merely in the feeling of resentment,
when it burns and festers within our own hearts,
but also in being the objects of another's resent
ment. They are not the effects only of his anger
that we are afraid of; we are afraid of the anger
itself, of but the looks and the words of angry
violence, though we should be perfectly secure
from all the deeds of violence. The simple dis
pleasure of another is formidable, though no chas-
tisement whatever shall follow upon it. We are
so constituted, that we tremble before the frown
of an offended countenance, and perhaps as readily

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 217
as we would under the menace of an uplifted arm ;
and would often make as great a sacrifice to shun
the moral discomfort of another's wrath, as to
shun the physical infliction which his wrath might
impel him to lay upon us. It is thus that where
there is no strength for any physical infliction,
still there may be, a power of correction that amply
makes up for it, in the rebuke of an indignant eye
or an indignant voice. This goes far to repair
the inequalities of muscular force among men ;
and forms indeed a most important mound of de
fence against the effervescence and the outbreak
ings of brute violence in society. It is incalcu
lable how much we owe to this influence for the
peace and courteousness that obtain in every
neighbourhood. The more patent view of anger
is, that it is an instrument of defence against the
aggressions of violence or injustice; and by which
they are kept in check, from desolating, as they
otherwise would, the face of society. But it not
only operates as a corrective against the outrages
that are actually made. It has a preventive opera
tion also ; and we are wholly unable to say in
how far the dread of its forth-breaking, serves to
soften and to subdue human intercourse into those
many thousand decencies of mutual forbearance
and complaisance, by which it is gladdened and
adorned. There is a recoil from anger in the
heart of every man when directed against himself;
and many who would disdain to make one sacrifice

218 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
by which to appease it, after it had thrown down-
the gauntlet of hostility, will in fact make one
continued sacrifice of their tone and manner and
habit, that it may not be awakened out of its
slumbers. It were difficult to compute how much
we are indebted, for the blandness and the amenity
of human companionship, to the consciousness of
so many sleeping fires, in readiness to blaze forth,
at the touch or on the moment of any provocation
being offered. We doubt not, that, in military
and fashionable, and indeed in all society, it acts as
a powerful restraint on every thing that is offen
sive. The domineering insolence of those who,
with the instrument of anger too, would hold
society in bondage, is most effectually arrested,
when met by an anger which throws back the fear
upon themselves, and so quiets and composes all
their violence. It is thus that a balance is main
tained, without which human society might go
into utter derangement ; and without which too,
even the animal creation might lose its stability
and disappear. And there is a kind of moral
power in the anger itself, that is separate from the
animal or the physical strength which it puts into
operation ; and which invests with command, or
at least provides with defensive armour, those who
would otherwise be the most helpless of our species
— so that decrepit age or feeble womanhood has
by the mere rebuke of an angry countenance made
the stoutest heart to tremble before them. It is

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 219
a moral force, by which the inequalities of muscu
lar force are repaired ; and, while itself a firebrand
and a destroyer, yet, by the very terror of its
ravages, which it diffuses among all, were it to
stalk abroad and at large over the world — does it
contribute to uphold the pacific virtues among
men. 12. When the anger of one individual in a
household is the terror of the rest, then that indi
vidual may become the little despot of the estab
lishment ; and thus it is that often the feeblest of
them all in muscular strength may wield a domestic
tyranny by which the stoutest is overpowered.
But when the anger of this one is fortunately met
by the spirit and resolution of another, then, kept
at bay with its own weapon, it is neutralized into
a state of innocence. It is not necessary for the
production of this effect, that the parties ever
should have come to the extremity of an open and
declared violence. If there be only a mutual con
sciousness of each other's energy of passion and of
purpose, then a mutual awe and mutual forbear
ance may be the result of it. And thus it is, that,
by the operation of these reciprocal checks in a
family, the peace and order of it may be securely
upholden. We have witnessed how much a way
ward and outrageous temper has been sweetened,
by the very presence, in the same mansion, of one
who could speak again, and would not succumb
to any unreasonable violence. The violence is

220 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
abated. And we cannot compute how much it is
that the blandness and the mutual complaisance
which obtain in society, are due to the secret
dread in which men stand of each other's irrita
tion ; or, in other words, little do we know to
what extent the smile and the courteousness and
the urbanity of civilized life, that are in semblance
so many expressions of human benevolence, may,
really and substantially, be owing to the fears of
human selfishness. Were this Speculation pursued,
it might lead to a very humiliating estimate indeed
of the virtue of individuals — though we cannot but
admire the wisdom of that economy, by which,
even without virtue, individuals may be made,
through the mutual action and reaction of their
emotions, to form the materials of a society that
can stand. Anger does in private life, what the
terrors of the penal code do in the community at
large. It acts with salutary influence in a vast
multiplicity of cases, which no law could possibly
provide for ; and where the chastisements of law,
whether in their corrective or preventive influence,
cannot reach. The good of a penal discipline in
society extends far and wide beyond the degree
in which it is actually inflicted ; and many are the
pacific habits of a neighbourhood, that might be
ascribed, not to the pacific virtues of the men who
compose it, but to the terror of those consequences
which all men know would ensue upon their vio
lation. And it is just so of anger, in the more

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 221
frequent and retired intercourse of private life.
The good which it does by the fear of its ebulli-
tions is greater far than all which is done by the
actual ebullitions themselves. But we cannot fail
to perceive that the amount of service which is
done in this way to the species at large, must all
be regarded as a deduction from the amount of
credit which is due to the individuals who belong
to it. We have already remarked on the propen
sity of moralists to accredit the wisdom of man
with effects, which, as being provided for not by
any care or reflection of ours, but by the operation
of constitutional instincts — are more properly and
immediately to be ascribed to the wisdom of God.
And in like manner, there is a propensity in mo
ralists to accredit the goodness of man with effects,
which, as being provided for not by any conscien
tiousness or exercise of principle on our part, but
by the operation still of constitutional instincts —
are more properly and immediately to be ascribed
to the goodness of God.*
* The following extract from Brown tends well to illustrate
one of the final causes for the implantation of this principle in
our constitution : — " What human wants required, that all-fore
seeing Power, who is the guardian of our infirmities, has supplied
to human weakness. There is a principle- in our mind, which is
to us like a constant protector, which may slumber, indeed, but
which slumbers only at seasons when its vigilance would be use
less ; which awakes, therefore, at the first appearance of unjust
intention, and which becomes more watchful and more vigorous
in proportion to the violence of the attack which it has to dread.

222 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
13. There is another special affection which we
feel more particularly induced to notice, from its
palpable effect in restraining the excess of one of
nature's strongest appetites. Its position in the
mental system reminds one of the very obvious
adaptation to each other of the antagonist muscles
in anatomy. We allude to the operation of shame
between the sexes, considered as a check or coun
teractive to the indulgence of passion between the
sexes. The former is as clear an instance of moral,
What should we think of the providence of nature, if, when
aggression was threatened against the weak and unarmed, at a
distance from the aid of others, there were instantly and uni
formly, by the intervention of some wonder-working power, to
rush into the hand of the defenceless a sword or other weapon
of defence? And yet this would be but a feeble assistance, if
compared with that which we receive from those simple emotions
which Heaven has caused to rush, as it were, into our mind for
repelling every attack. What would be a sword in the trembling
hand of the infirm, of the aged — of him whose pusillanimous spirit
shrinks at the very appearance, not of danger merely, but even
of the arms by the use of which danger might be averted ; and
to whom, consequently, the very sword, which he scarcely knew
how to grasp, would be an additional cause of terror, not an in
strument of defence and safety? The instant anger which arises
does more than many such weapons. It gives the spirit, which
knows how to make a weapon of every thing, or which of itself
does, without a weapon, what even a thunderbolt would be
powerless to do, in the shuddering grasp of the coward. When
anger arises, fear is gone ; there is no coward, for all are brave.
Even bodily infirmity seems to yield to it, like the very infirmi
ties of the mind. The old are, for the moment, young again ;
the weakest, vigorous." — Lecture lxiii.

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 223
as the latter is of physical adaptation. And in
their adjustment the one to the other, we observe
that sort of exquisite balancing, which, perhaps
more than any thing else, indicates the wisdom
and the hand of a master — as if when, in the exe
cution of some very nice and difficult task, he is
managing between contrary extremes, or is devis
ing in just proportion for contrary interests. We
might better comprehend the design of this strik
ingly peculiar mechanism, by imagining of the
two opposite instincts, that either of them was in
excess, or either of them in defect. Did the con
stitutional modesty prevail to a certain conceivable
extent — it might depopulate the world. Did the
animal propensity preponderate, on the other hand
—it might land the world in an anarchy of un
blushing and universal licentiousness — to the en
tire breaking up of our present blissful economy,
by which society is partitioned into separate fami
lies; and, with the interests of domestic life to
provide for, and its affections continually to recre
ate the heart in the midst of anxieties and labours,
mankind are kept in a state both of most useful
activity and of greatest enjoyment. We cannot
conceive a more skilful, we had almost said a more
delicate or dexterous adjustment, than the one
actually fixed upon — by which, in the first in
stance, through an appetency sufficiently strong
the species is upholden ; and, in the second in
stance, through the same appetency sufficiently

224 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
restrained, those hallowed decencies of life are
kept inviolate, which are so indispensable to all
order and to all moral gracefulness among men.
We have only to conceive the frightful aspect
which society would put on, did unbridled licen
tiousness stalk at large as a destroyer, and rifle
every home of those virtues which at once guard
and adorn it. The actual and the beautiful result,
when viewed in connection with that moral force,
by the insertion of which in our nature it is ac
complished, strongly bespeaks a presiding intellect
— which, in framing the mechanism of the human
mind, had respect to what was most beneficent
and best for the mechanism of human society.
14. It is well that man is so much the creature
of a constitution which is anterior to his own wis
dom and his own will, and of circumstances which
are also anterior to his wisdom and his will. It
would have needed a far more comprehensive view
than we are equal to, both of what was best for
men in a community, and for man as an individual,
to have left a creature so shortsighted or of such
brief and narrow survey, with the fixing either of
his own principles of action, or of his relation with
the external world. That constitutional shame,
that quick and trembling delicacy, a prompt and
ever-present guardian, appearing as it does in
very early childhood, is most assuredly not a re
sult from any anticipation by us either of future
or distant consequences. Even the moral sense

THE MORAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. 225
within us does not speak so loudly or so distinctly
the evil of this transgression, as it does of false
hood, or of injurious freedom with the property of
a neighbour, or of personal violence. Other forces
than those of human prudence or human principle
seem to have been necessary, for resisting a most
powerful and destructive fascination, which never
is indulged, without deterioration to the whole
structure of the moral character and constitution ;
and which, when once permitted to lord it over
the habits, so often terminates in the cruel disrup
tion of families, and the irretrievable ruin and dis
grace of the offender. It is not by any prospective
calculation of ours that this natural modesty, act
ing as a strong precautionary check against evils
which, however tremendous, we are too heedless
to reflect upon, has been established within us.
It is directly implanted by One, who sees the end
from the beginning ; and so forms altogether a
most palpable instance, in which we have reason
to congratulate ourselves, that the wellbeing of
man, instead of being abandoned to himself, has
been placed so immediately under the manage
ment of better and higher hands.
15. There are many other special affections in
our nature — the principal of which will fall to be
noticed in succeeding chapters ; and the interests
to which they are respectively subservient form a
natural ground of division, in our treatment of
VOL. i. p

226 ADAPTATIONS OF EXTERNAL NATURE, ETC.
them. Certain of these affections stand related
to the civil, and certain of them to the economic
wellbeing of society; and each of these sub
serviencies will form the subject of a separate
argument.

227

CHAPTER VI.
On those special Affections which conduce to the
Civil and Political Wellbeing of Society.
1. The first step towards the aggregation of men
into a community, or the first departure from a
state of perfect isolation, could that state ever have
subsisted for a single day, is the patriarchal ar
rangement. No sooner indeed is the infant crea
ture ushered into being, than it is met by the cares
and the caresses of those who are around it, and
who have either attended or welcomed its entry
on this scene of existence — as if, in very propor
tion to the extremity of its utter helplessness, was
the strength of that security which nature hath
provided, in the workings of the human constitu
tion, for the protection of its weakness and the
supply of all its little wants. That there should
be hands to receive and to manage this tender
visitant, is not more obviously a benevolent adapta
tion, than that there should be hearts to sympa
thize with its cries of impotency or distress. The
maternal affection is as express an instance of this
as the maternal nourishment — nor is the inference
at all weakened, by the attempts, even though
they should be successful, of those who would de-
p 2

228 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
monstrate of this universal fondness of mothers,
that, instead of an original instinct, it is but a de
rived or secondary law of our nature. Were that
analysis as distinct and satisfactory as it is doubt
ful and obscure, which would resolve all mental
phenomena into the single principle of association
— still the argument would stand. A secondary
law, if not the evidence of a distinct principle, re
quires at least distinct and peculiar circumstances
for its development ; and the right ordering of
these for a beneficial result, is just as decisively
the proof and the characteristic of a plan, as are the
collocations of Anatomy. It might not have been
necessary to endow matter with any new property
for the preparation of a child's aliment in the
breast of its mother — yet the framework of that
very peculiar apparatus by which the milk is se
creted, and the suckling's mouth provided with a
duct of conveyance for the abstraction of it, is, in
the many fitnesses of time and place and compli
cated arrangement, pregnant with the evidence
of a designer's contrivance and a designer's care.
And in like manner, though it should be estab
lished, that the affection of a mother for her young
from the moment of their birth, instead of an inde
pendent principle in her nature, was the depen
dent product of remembrances and feelings which
had accumulated during the period of gestation;
and were at length fixed, amidst the agonies of
parturition, into the strongest of all her earthly

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 229
regards — the argument for design is just as entire,
though, instead of connecting it with the peculi
arity of an original law, we connect it with the
peculiarity of those circumstances which favour
the development of this maternal feeling, in the
form of a secondary law. There is an infinity of
conceivable methods, by which the successive gen
erations of men might have risen into being ; and
our argument is entire, if, out of these, that me
thod has been selected, whereof the result is an
intense affection on the part of mothers for their
offspring. It matters not whether this universal
propensity of theirs be a primary instinct of nature,
or but a resulting habit which can be traced to the
process which they have been actually made to
undergo, or the circumstances in which they have
actually been placed. The ordination of this pro
cess, the mandate for the assemblage and colloca
tion of these circumstances, gives as distinct and
decisive indication of an ordaining mind, as would
the establishment of any peculiar law. Let it
suffice once for all to have said this — for if in the
prosecution of our inquiry, we stopped at every
turn to entertain the question, whether each bene
ficial tendency on which we reasoned, were an ori
ginal or only a secondary principle in nature — we
should be constantly rushing uncalled into the
mists of obscurity ; and fastening upon our cause
an element of doubt and weakness, which in no
wise belongs to it.

230 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
2. The other affections which enter into the
composition, or rather, form the cement of a
family, are more obviously of a derivative, and
less obviously of an instinctive character, than is
that strong maternal affinity which meets so oppor
tunely with the extreme helplessness of its objects,
that but for the succour and sympathy of those
whose delight it is to cherish and sustain them,
would perish in the infancy of their being. How
ever questionable the analysis might be, which
would resolve the universal fondness of mothers
for their young into something anterior — the
paternal and brotherly and filial affections seem,
on surer grounds, and which are accessible to
observation, not to be original but originated feel
ings. Inquirers, according to their respective
tastes and tendencies, have deviated on both sides
of the evidence — that is, either to an excessive
and hypothetic simplification of nature, or to an
undue multiplication of her first principles. And
certain it is, that when told of the mystic ties
which bind together into a domestic community,
as if by a sort of certain peculiar attraction, all of
the same kindred and the same blood — we are
reminded of those occult qualities, which, in the
physics both of matter and of mind, afforded so
much of entertainment to the scholastics of a for
mer age. But with the adjustment of this philo
sophy we properly have no concern. It matters
not to our argument whether the result in ques-

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 231
tion be due to the force of instincts or to the force
of circumstances, — any more than whether, in the
physical system, a certain beneficial result may be
ascribed to apt and peculiar laws, or to apt and
peculiar collocations. In virtue of one or other
or both of these causes, we behold the individuals
of the species grouped together — or, as it may be
otherwise expressed, the aggregate mass of the
species broken asunder into distinct families, and
generally living by themselves, each family under
one common roof, but apart from all the rest in
distinct habitations ; while the members of every
little commonwealth are so linked by certain affec
tions, or by certain feelings of reciprocal obliga
tion, that each member feels almost as intensely
for the wants and sufferings of the rest as he would
for his own, or labours as strenuously for the sus
tenance of all as he would for his own individual
sustenance. There is very generally a union of
hearts, and still oftener a union of hands, for the
common interest and provision of the household.
3. The benefits of such an arrangement are too
obvious to be enumerated. Even though the law
of self-preservation had sufficed in those cases
where the individual has adequate wisdom to de
vise, and adequate strength to provide for his own
maintenance — of itself, it could not have availed,
when this strength and this wisdom are wanting.
It is in the bosom of families, and under the touch
and impulse of family affections, that helpless

232 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
infancy is nurtured into manhood, and helpless
disease or age have the kindliest and most effective
succour afforded to them. Even when the strength
for labour, instead of being confined to one, is
shared among several of the household, there is
often an incalculable benefit, in the very concert
of their forces and community of their gains — so
long, for example, as a brotherhood, yet advancing
towards maturity, continue to live under the same
roof, and to live under the direction of one autho
rity, or by the movement of one will. We shall
not expatiate, either on the enjoyment that might
be had under such an economy, while it lasts, in the
sweets of mutual affection ; or minutely explain
how, after the economy is dissolved, and the sepa
rate members betake themselves each to his own
way in the world — the duties and the friendships
of domestic life are not annihilated by this disper
sion; but, under the powerful influence of a felt
and acknowledged relationship, the affinities of
kindred spread and multiply beyond their original
precincts, to the vast increase of mutual sympathy
and aid and good offices in general society. It
will not, we suppose, be questioned — that a vastly
greater amount of good is done by the instrumen
tality of others, and that the instrumentality itself
is greatly more available, under the family system,
to which we are prompted by the strong affections
of nature, than if that system were dissolved. But
the remarkable thing is, that these affections had to

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 233
be provided, as so many impellent forces — guiding
men onward to an arrangement the most prolific of
advantage for the whole, but which no care or con
sideration of the general good would have led them
to form. This provision for the wants of the
social economy is analogous to that, which we have
already observed, for the wants of the animal eco
nomy. Neither of these interests was confided to
any cold generality, whether of principle or pru
dence. In the one, the strong appetite of hunger
supplements the deficiency of the rational principle
of self-preservation. In the other, the strong fa
mily affections supplement the deficiency of the
moral principle of general benevolence. Without
the first, the requisite measures would not have
been taken for the regular sustenance of the indivi
dual. Without the other, the requisite measures
would not have been taken for the diffused suste
nance of the community at large.
4. Such is the mechanism of human society, as
it comes direct from the hand of nature or of
nature's God. But many have been the attempts
of human wisdom to mend and to meddle with it.
Cosmopolitism, in particular, has endeavoured to
substitute a sort of universal citizenship, in place
of the family affections — regarding these as so
many disturbing forces ; because, operating only
as incentives to a partial or particular benevolence,
they divert the aim from that which should, it is
contended, be the object of every enlightened

234 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
philanthropist, the general and greatest good of
the whole. It is thus that certain transcendental
speculatists would cut asunder all the special affi
nities of our nature, in order that men, set at large
from the ties and the duties of the domestic rela
tionship, might be at liberty to prosecute a more
magnificent and godlike career of virtue; and, in
every single action, have respect, not to the well-
being of the individual, but to the wellbeing of the
species. And thus, also, friendship and patriotism
have been stigmatized, along with the family affec
tions, as so many narrow-minded virtues, which,
by their distracting influence, seduce men from
that all-comprehensive virtue, whose constant study
being the good of the world — a happy and regene
rated world, it is the fond imagination of some,
would be the result of its universal prevalence
among men.
5. Fortunately, nature is too strong for this
speculation, which, therefore, has only its full
being in the reveries or the pages of those who,
in authorship, may well be termed the philoso
phical novelists of our race. But, beside the
actual strength of those special propensities in th'e
heart of man, which no generalization can over
rule, there is an utter impotency in human means
or human expedients for carrying this hollow, this
heartless generalization into effect. It is easy to
erect into a moral axiom the principle of greatest
happiness ; and then, on the strength of it, to de-

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 235
nounce all the special affections, and propose the
substitution of a universal affection in their place.
But, in prosecuting the object of this last affec
tion, what specific and intelligible thing are they
to do ? How shall they go about it ? What con
ventional scheme shall men fall upon next for
obtaining the maximum of utility, after they have
broken loose, each from his own little home, and
have been emancipated from those intense regards
which worked so effectively and with such force
of concentration there ? It has never been clearly
shown, how the glorious simplifications of these
cosmopolites admit of being practically realized —
whether by a combination, of which the chance is
that all men might not agree upon it ; or by each
issuing quixotically forth of his own habitation,
and labouring the best he may to realize the
splendid conception by which he is fired and actu
ated. And it does not occur to those who would
thus labour to extirpate the special affections from
our nature, that it is in the indulgence of them
that all conceivable happiness lies ; and that, in
being bereft of them, we should be in truth bereft
of all the means and materials of enjoyment. And
there is the utmost difference in point of effect, as
well as in point of feeling, between the strong love
wherewith nature hath endued us for a few par
ticular men, and the general love wherewith philo
sophers would inspire us for men in the abstract—
the former philanthropy leading to a devoted and

236 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
sustained habit of well-directed exertion, for sup
plying the wants and multiplying the enjoyments
of every separate household ; the latter philan
thropy, at once indefinite in its aim, and intangible
in its objects, overlooking every man just because
charging itself with the oversight of all men. It
is by a summation of particular utilities which
each man, under the impulse of his own particular
affections, contributes to the general good, that
nature provides for the happiness of the world.
But ambitious and aspiring man would take the
charge of this happiness upon himself; and his
first step would be to rid the heart of all its special
affections — or, in other words, to unsettle the moral
dynamics which nature hath established there,
without any other moral dynamics, either of pre
cise direction or of operative force, to establish in
their room. After having paralyzed all the ordi
nary principles of action, he would, in his newly
modelled system of humanity, be able to set up
no principle of action whatever. His wisdom,
when thus opposed to the wisdom of nature, is
utterly powerless to direct, however much, in those
seasons of delusion when the merest nonentities and
names find a temporary sway, it may be powerful
to destroy.
6. Now, there is nothing which so sets off the
superior skill of one artist, as the utter failure of
every other artist in his attempts to improve upon
it. And so the failure of every philanthropic or

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 237
political experiment which proceeds on the distrust
of nature's strong and urgent and general affec
tions, may be regarded as an impressive while
experimental demonstration for the matchless wis
dom of nature's God. The abortive enterprises
of wild yet benevolent Utopianism ; the impotent
and hurtful schemes of artificial charity which so
teem throughout the cities and parishes of our
land ; the pernicious legislation, which mars in
stead of medicates, whenever it intermeddles with
the operations of a previous and better mechanism
than its own — have all of them misgiven, only
because, instead of conforming to nature, they
have tried to divert her from her courses, or have
thwarted and traversed the strongest of her im
planted tendencies. It is thus that every attempt
for taking to pieces, whether totally or partially,
the actual framework of society, and reconstruct
ing it in a new way or on new principles — is
altogether fruitless of good ; and often fruitful of
sorest evil both to the happiness and virtue of the
commonwealth. That economy by which the
family system would have been entirely broken
up; and associated men, living together in planned
and regulated villages, would have laboured for
the common good, and given up their children
wholly undomesticated to a common education —
could not have been carried into effect, without
overbearing the parental affection, and other
strong propensities of nature besides; and so it

238 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
was stifled in embryo, by the instant revolt of
nature against it. That legislation which, instead
of overbearing, would but seduce nature from her
principles, may subsist for generations — yet not
without such distemper to society, as may at length
amount to utter disorganization. And this is pre
cisely the mischief which the pauperism of England
hath inflicted on the habits of English families. It
hath, by the most pernicious of all bribery, relaxed
the ties and obligations of mutual relationship —
exonerating parents, on the one hand, from the
care and maintenance of their own offspring ; and
tempting children, on the other, to cast off the
parents who gave them birth ; and, instead of an
asylum gladdened by the associations and sympa
thies of home, consigning them for the last closing
years of weakness and decrepitude to the dreary
imprisonment of a poor-house. Had the beautiful
arrangements of nature not been disturbed, the
relative affections which she herself has implanted
would have been found strong enough, as in other
countries, to have secured, through the means of
a domestic economy alone, a provision both for
young and old, in far greater unison with both
the comfort and the virtue of families. The cor
rupt and demoralizing system of England might
well serve as a lesson to philanthropists and states-
men, of the hazard, nay, of the positive and un
doubted mischief, to which the best interests of
humanity are exposed — when they traverse the

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 239
processes of a better mechanism instituted by the
wisdom of God, through the operation of another
mechanism devised by a wisdom of their own.
7. And those family relations in which all men
necessarily find themselves at the outset of life,
serve to strengthen, if they do not originate, cer
tain other subsequent affections of wider operation,
and which bear with most important effect on the
state and security of a commonwealth. Each
man's house may be regarded as a preparatory
school, where he acquires in boyhood those habits
of subordination and dependence and reverence
for superiors, by which he all the more readily
conforms in after-life to the useful gradations of
rank, and authority, and wealth, which obtain in
the order of general society. We are aware of a
cosmopolitism that would unsettle those principles
which bind together the larger commonwealth of
a state ; and that too with still greater force and
frequency, than it would unsettle those affections
which bind together the little commonwealth of a
family. It is easier to undermine in the hearts of
subjects their reverence for rank and station, than
it is to dissolve the ties of parentage and brother
hood, or to denaturalize the hearts of children.
Accordingly, we may remember those seasons,
when, in the form of what may be termed a moral
epidemic, a certain spirit of lawlessness went
abroad upon the land ; and the minds of men
were set at large from the habit of that homage

240 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
and respect which, in more pacific times, they,
without pusillanimity, and in spite of themselves;
do render to family or fortune or office in society.
We know that in specific instances an adequate
cause is too often given, why men should cast off
that veneration for rank by which they are natu
rally and habitually actuated— as, individually,
when the prince or the noble, however elevated,
may have disgraced himself by his tyranny or his
vices ; or, generally, when the patrician orders of
the state may have entered into some guilty com
bination of force and fraud against the liberties of
mankind, and outraged nature is called forth to a
generous and wholesome reaction against the op
pressors of their species. This is the revolt of one
natural principle against the abuse of another.
But the case is very different — when, instead of
an hostility resting on practical grounds, and justi
fied by the abuses of a principle, there is a sort
of theoretical, yet withal virulent and inflamed
hostility abroad in the land against the principle
itself— when wealth and rank, without having
abused their privileges, are made per se the ob
jects of a jealous and resentful malignity — when
the people, all reckless and agog, because the
dupes of designing and industrious agitators, have
been led to regard every man of affluence or sta
tion as their natural enemy — and when, with the
bulk of the community in this attitude of stout
and sullen defiance, authority is weakened, and all

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 241
the natural influences of rank and wealth are sus
pended. Now, nature never gives more effectual
demonstration of her wisdom, than by the mis
chief which ensues on the abjuration of her own
principles ; and never is the lesson thus held forth
more palpable and convincing, than when respect
for station and respect for office cease to be ope
rating principles in society. We are abundantly
sensible that both mighty possessions and the
honours of an industrious ancestry may be dis
joined from individual talent and character — nay,
that they may meet in the person of one so utterly
weak or worthless, as that our reverence, because
of the. adventitious circumstances in which he is
placed, may be completely overborne by our con
tempt either for the imbecility or the moral turpi
tude by which he is deformed. But this is only
the example of a contest between two principles,
and of a victory by the superior over the inferior
one. We are not, however, because of the inferi
ority of a principle, to lose sight of its existence ;
or to betray such an imperfect discernment and
analysis of the human mind, as to deny the reality
of any one principle, because liable to be modified,
or kept in check, or even for the time rendered
altogether powerless, by the interposition and the
conflict of another principle. If, on the one hand,
rank may be so disjoined from righteousness as to
forfeit all its claims to respect — on the other hand,
to be convinced that these claims are the objects
vol. i. Q

242 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
of a natural and universal acknowledgment, and
have therefore a foundation in the actual constitu
tion of human nature, let us only consider the
effect, when pre-eminent rank and pre-eminent or
even but fair and ordinary righteousness, meet
together in the person of the same individual.
The effect of such a composition upon human
feelings may well persuade us that, while a respect
for righteousness, admitted by all, enters as one
ingredient, a respect for rank has its distinct and
substantive being also as another ingredient. We
have the former ingredient by itself in a state of
separation, and are therefore most sensible of its
presence, when the object of contemplation is a
virtuous man. But we are distinctly sensible to
the superaddition of the latter ingredient, when,
instead of a virtuous man, the object of contempla
tion is a virtuous monarch — though it becomes
more palpable still, when it too is made to exist in
a state of separation, which it does, when- the
monarch is neither hateful for his vices, nor very
estimable for his virtues ; but stands forth in the
average possession of those moralities and of that
intellect which belong to common and every day
humanity. Even such a monarch has only to ap
pear among his subjects; and, in all ordinary
times, he will be received with the greetings of an
honest and heartfelt loyalty, while any unwonted
progress through his dominions is sure to be met
all over the land, by the acclamations of a gene-

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 213
rous enthusiasm. Even the sturdiest demagogue,
if he come within the sphere of the royal presence,
cannot resist the infection of that common senti
ment by which all are actuated ; but, as if struck
with a moral impotency, he also, carried away by
the fascination, is constrained to feel and to ac
knowledge its influence. Some there are, who
might affect to despise human nature for such an
exhibition, and indignantly exclaim that men are
born to be slaves. But the truth is, that there is
nothing prostrate, nothing pusillanimous in the
emotion at all. Instead of this, it is a lofty chival
rous emotion, of which the most exalted spirits are
the most susceptible, and which all might indulge
without any forfeiture of their native or becoming
dignity. We do not affirm of this respect either
for the sovereignty of an empire, or for the chief
tainship of a province— -that it forms an original or
constituent part of our nature. It is enough for
our argument, if it be a universal result of the
circumstances in every land, where such grada
tions of power and property are established. In
a word, it is the doing of nature, and not of man ;
and if man, in the proud and presumptuous exer
cise of his own wisdom, shall lift his rebel hand
against the wisdom of nature, and try to uproot
this principle from human hearts— he will find that
it cannot be accomplished without tearing asunder
one of the strongest of those ligaments, which
bind together the component parts of human sor
q2

244 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
ciety into a harmonious and well-adjusted me
chanism. And it is then that the wisdom which
made nature will demonstrate its vast superiority
over the wisdom which would mend it — when the
desperate experiment of the latter has been tried
and found wanting. There are certain restraining
forces (and reverence for rank and station is one
of them) which never so convincingly announce
their own importance to the peace and stability of
the commonwealth, as in those seasons of popular
frenzy, when, for a time, they are slackened or
suspended. For it is then that the vessel of the
state, as if slipped from her moorings, drifts head
long among the surges of insurrectionary violence,
till, as the effect of this great national effervescence,
the land mourns over its ravaged fields and deso
lated families ; when, after the sweeping anarchy
has blown over it, and the sore chastisement has
been undergone, the now schooled and humbled
people seek refuge anew in those very principles
which they had before traduced and discarded :
And it will be fortunate if, when again settled
down in the quietude of their much needed and
much longed-for repose, there be not too vigorous
a reaction of those conservative influences, which,
in the moment of their wantonness, they had flung
so recklessly away— in virtue of which the whips
may become scorpions, and the mild and well-
balanced monarchy may become a grinding des
potism.

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 245
8. Next to the wisdom which nature discovers
in her implantation or development of those affec
tions by which society is parcelled down into se
parate families, is the wisdom which she discovers
in those other affections, by which the territory of
a nation, and all upon it that admits of such a dis
tribution, is likewise parcelled and broken off into
separate properties. Both among the analysts of
the human mind, and among metaphysical jurists
and politicians, there is to be found much obscure
and unsatisfactory speculation respecting those
principles, whether elementary or complex, by
which property is originated, and by which pro
perty is upholden. We are not called to enter
upon any subtile analysis for the purpose of ascer
taining either what that is which gives birth to the
possessory feeling on the part of an owner, or what
that is which leads to such a universal recognition
and respect for his rights in general society. It
will be enough if we can evince that neither of
these is a factitious product, devised by the wisdom
or engendered by the authority of patriots and
legislators, deliberating on what was best for the
good and order of a community ; but that both of
them are the results of a prior wisdom, employed,
not in framing a constitution for a state, but in
framing a constitution for human nature. It will
suffice to demonstrate this, if we can show, that,
in very early childhood, there are germinated both
a sense of property and a respect for the property

246 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
of others ; and that, long before the children have
been made the subjects of any artificial training on
the thing in question, or are at all capable of any
anticipation, or even wish, respecting the public
and collective wellbeing of the country at large.
Just as the affection of a mother is altogether
special, and terminates upon the infant, without
any calculation as to the superiority of the family
system over the speculative systems of the cosmo
polites ; and just as the appetite of hunger impels
to the use of food, without the least regard, for
the time being, to the support or preservation of
the animal economy ;— so, most assuredly, do the
desires or notions of property, and even the prin
ciples by which it is limited, spring up in the
breasts of childreri, without the slightest appre
hension, on their part, of its vast importance to
the social economy of the world. It is the pro
vision, not of man, but of God.
9* That is my property, to the Use and enjoy
ment of which I, without the permission of others,
am free, in a manner that no other is ; and it is
mine and mine only, in as far as this use and en
joyment are limited to myself— and others, apart
from any grant or permission by me, are restrained
from the like use and the like enjoyment. Now,
the first tendency of a child, instead of regarding
only certain things, as those to the use and enjoy
ment of which it alone is free, is to regard itself as
alike free to the use and enjoyment of all things.

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 247
We should say that it regards the whole of exter
nal nature as a vast common, but for this differ
ence — that, instead of regarding nature as free to
all, it rather regards it as free to itself alone.
When others intermeddle with any one thing in a
way that suits not its fancy or pleasure, it resents
and storms and exclaims like one bereft of its
rights — so that, instead of regarding the universe
as a common, it were more accurate to say, that it
regarded the whole as its own property, or itself
as the universal proprietor of all on which it may
have cast a pleased or a wishful eye- Whatever it
grasps, it feels to be as much its own as it does the
fingers which grasp it. And not only do its claims
extend to all within its reach, but to all within the
field of its vision — insomuch, that it will even
stretch forth its hands to the moon in the firma
ment; and wreak its displeasure on the nurse, for
not bringing the splendid bauble within its grasp.
Instead then of saying, that, at this particular
stage, it knows not how to appropriate any thing,
it were more accurate to say, that, a universal
tyrant and monopolist, it would claim and appro
priate all things — exacting from the whole of na
ture a subserviency to its caprices ; and, the little
despot of its establishment, giving forth its intima
tions and its mandates, witb the expectation, and
often with the real power and authority, of instant
obedience. We before said that its anger was co
extensive with the capacity of sensation ; and we

248 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
now say, that, whatever its rectified notion of
property may be, it has the original notion of an
unlimited range over which itself at least may ex
patiate,- without let or contradiction — the self-
constituted proprietor of a domain, wide as its
desires, and on which none may interfere against
its will, without awakening in its bosom some
what like the sense and feeling of an injurious
molestation.* 10. And it is instructive to observe the process
by which this original notion of property is at
length rectified into the subsequent notion which
obtains in general society. For this purpose we
must inquire what the circumstances are which
limit and determine that sense of property, which
was quite general and unrestricted before, to cer
tain special things, of which the child learns to
feel that they are peculiarly its own — and that too,
* From what has been already said of resentment, it would
appear, that the instinctive feeling of property and instinctive
anger are in a state of co-relation with each other. It is by
offence being rendered to the former, that the latter is called
forth. Anterior to a sense of justice, our disposition is to arro
gate every thing — and it is then that we are vulnerable to anger
from all points of the compass. Let another meddle, to our
annoyance, with any thing whatever, at this early stage, and we
shall feel the very emotion of anger which, in a higher stage of
moral and mental cultivation, is only called forth by his meddling
with that which really and rightfully belongs to us. The sense1
of justice, instead of originating either the emotion of anger or
a sense of property, has the effect to limit and restrain both. ,

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 249
in a manner which distinguishes them from all
other things which are not so felt to be its own.
The child was blind to any such distinction before
— its first habit being to arrogate and monopolize
all things ; and the question is, what those circum
stances are which serve to signalize some things,
to which its feelings of property, now withdrawn
from wide and boundless generality, are exclusively
and specifically directed. It will make conclu
sively for our argument, if it shall appear that
this sense of property, even in its posterior and
rectified form, is the work of nature, operating on
the hearts of children ; and not the work of man,
devising, in the maturity of his political wisdom,
such a regulated system of things as might be best
for the order and wellbeing of society.
11. This matter then might be illustrated by
the contests of very young children, and by the
manner in which these are adjusted to the acqui
escence and satisfaction of them all. We might
gather a lesson even from the quarrel which some
times arises among them, about a matter so small
as their right to the particular chairs of a room.
If one, for example, have just sat on a chair, though
only for a few minutes, and then left it for a mo
ment — it will feel itself injured, if, on returning,
it shall find the chair in the possession of another.
occupier. The brief occupation which it has
already had, gives it the feeling of a right to the
continued occupation of it— insomuch that, when

250 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
kept out by an intruder, it has the sense of" having
been wrongously dispossessed. The particular
chair of which it was for some time the occupier,
is the object of a special possessory affection or
feeling, which it attaches to no other chair ; and
by which it stands invested in its own imagina
tion, as being for the time the only rightful occu
pier. This then may be regarded as a very early
indication of that possessory feeling, which is
afterwards of such extensive influence in the eco
nomy of social life — a feeling so strong, as often
of itself to constitute a plea, not only sufficient in
the apprehension of the claimant, but sufficient in
the general sense of the community, for substan
tiating the right of many a proprietor.
12. But there is still another primitive ingre
dient which enters into this feeling of property ;
and we call it primitive, because anterior to the
sanctions or the application of law. Let the child,
in addition to the plea that it had been the recent
occupier of the chair in question, be able further
to advance in argument for its right — that, with
its own hands, it had just placed it beside the fire,
and thereby given additional value to the occupa
tion of it. This reason is both felt by the child
itself, and will be admitted by other children even
of a very tender age, as a strengthener of its claim.
It exemplifies the second great principle on which
the natural right of property rests— even that every
man is proprietor of the fruit of his own labour;

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 251
arid that to whatever extent he may have impressed
additional value on any given thing by the work
of his own hands, to that extent, at least, he should
be held the owner of it.
13. This then seems the way in which the
sense of his right to any given thing arises in the
heart of the claimant ; but something more must
be said to account for the manner in which this
right is deferred to by his companions. It ac
counts for the manner in which the possessory
feeling arises in the hearts of one and all of them,
when similarly circumstanced ; but it does not
account for the manner in which this possessory
feeling, in the heart of each, is respected by all
his fellows— so that he is suffered to remain in the
secure and unmolested possession of that which he
rightfully claims. The circumstances which ori
ginate the sense of property serve to explain this
one fact, the existence of a possessory feeling in
the heart of every individual who is actuated
thereby. But the deference rendered to this feel
ing by any other individuals, is another and a dis
tinct fact ; and we must refer to a distinct princi
ple from that of the mere sense of property for
the explanation of it. This new or distinct prin
ciple is a sense of equity— or that which prompts
to likeness or equality, between the treatment
which I should claim of others and my treatment
of them ; and in virtue of which I should hold it
unrighteous and unfair, if I disregarded or inflicted

252 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
violence on the claim of another, which, in the
same circumstances with him, I am conscious that
I should have felt, and would have advanced for
myself. Had I been the occupier of that chair,
in like manner with the little claimant who is now
insisting on the possession of it, I should have felt
and claimed precisely as he is doing. Still more,
had I like him placed it beside the fire, I should
have felt what he is now expressing — a still more
distinct and decided right to it. If conscious of
an identity of feeling between me and another in
the same circumstances — then let my moral nature
be so far evolved as to feel the force of this consi
deration ; and, under the operation of a sense of
equity, I shall defer to the very claim which I
should myself have urged, had I been similarly
placed. And it is marvellous how soon the hearts
of children discover a sensibility to this considera
tion, and how soon they are capable of becoming
obedient to the power of it. It is, in fact; the
principle on which a thousand contests of the nur
sery are settled, and many thousand more are
prevented ; what else would be an incessant scram
ble of rival and ravenous cupidity, being mitigated
and reduced to a very great, though unknown and
undefinable extent, by the sense of justice coming
into play. It is altogether worthy of remark,
however, that the sense of property is anterior to
the sense of justice, and comes from an anterior
and distinct source in our nature. It is not justice

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 253
which originates the proprietary feeling in the
heart of any individual. It only arbitrates be
tween the proprietary claims and feelings of differ
ent individuals — after these had previously arisen
by the operation of other principles in the human
constitution. Those writers on jurisprudence are
sadly and inextricably puzzled, who imagine that
justice presided over the first ordinations of pro
perty—utterly at a loss as they must be to find
out the principle that could guide her initial
movements. Justice did not create property ; but
found it already created — her only office being to
decide between the antecedent claims of one man
and another : And, in the discharge of this office,
she but compares the rights which each of them
can allege, as founded either on the length of
undisputed and undisposed-of possession, or on
the value they had impressed on the thing at issue
by labour of their own. In other words, she bears
respect to those two great primitive ingredients
by which property is constituted, before that she
had ever bestowed any attention or given any
award whatever regarding it. The matter may
be illustrated by the peculiar relation in which
each man stands to his own body, as being, in a
certain view, the same with the peculiar relation
in which each man stands to his own property.
His sensitive feelings are hurt by the infliction of
a neighbour's violence upon the one ; and his pro
prietary feelings are hurt by the encroachment of

254 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
a neighbour's violence upon the other. But jus
tice no more originated the proprietary than it
did the sensitive feelings— no more gave me the
peculiar affection which I feel for the property I
now occupy as my own, than it gave me my pecu
liar affection for the person which I now occupy
as my own. Justice pronounces on the iniquity
of any hurtful infliction by us on the person of
another-— seeing that such an infliction upon our
own person, to which we stand similarly related,
would be resented by ourselves. And Justice, in
like manner, pronounces on the inequality or ini
quity of any hurtful encroachment by us on the
property of another— also seeing that such an
encroachment upon our own property, to which
we stand similarly related, would be felt and re*
sented by ourselves. Man feels one kind of pain,
when the hand which belongs to him is struck by
another ; and he feels another kind of pain, when
some article which it holds, and which he con
ceives to belong to him, is wrested by another
from its grasp. But it was not Justice which in-
stituted either the animal economy in the one case,
or the proprietary economy in the other. Justice
found them both already instituted. Property is
not the creation of justice ; but is in truth a prior
creation. Justice did not form this material, or
command it into being; but in the course of mis.
understanding or controversy between man and
man, property, a material pre-existent or already

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 255
made, forms the subject of many of those ques
tions which are put into her hands.
14. But, recurring to the juvenile controversy
which we have already imagined for the purpose
of illustration, there is still a third way in which
weunay conceive it to be conclusively and defini
tively settled. The parents may interpose their
authority, and assign his own particular chair to
each member of the household. The instant
effect of such a decree, in fixing and distinguish
ing the respective properties in all time coming,
has led, we believe, to a misconception regarding
the real origin of property — in consequence of a
certain obscure analogy between this act of parents
or legislators over the family of a household, and
a supposed act of rulers or legislators over the
great family of a nation. Now, not only have the
parents this advantage over the magistrates — that
the property which they thus distribute is previ
ously their own ; but there is both a power of
enforcement and a disposition to acquiescence
within the limits of a home, which exist in an
immeasurably weaker degree within the limits of
a kingdom. Still, with all this superiority on the
part of the household legislators, it would even be
their wisdom to conform their decree as much as
possible to those natural principles and feelings of
property, which had been in previous exercise
among their children — to have respect, in fact,
when making distribution of the chairs, both to

256 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
their habits of previous occupation, and to the
additional value which any of them may have im
pressed upon their favourite seats, by such little
arts of upholstery or mechanics as they are com
petent to practise. A wise domestic legislator
would not thwart, but rather defer to the claims
and expectations which nature had previously
founded. And still more a national legislator or
statesman would evince his best wisdom, by, in
stead of traversing the constitution of property
which nature had previously established, greatly
deferring to that sense of a possessory right which
long and unquestioned occupation so universally
gives ; and greatly deferring to the principle, that,
whatever the fruit of each man's labour may be,
it rightfully, and therefore should legitimately
belong to him. A government could, and at the
termination of a revolutionary storm, often does,
traverse these principles ; but not without the
excitement of a thousand heartburnings, and so
the establishment of a strong counteraction to its
own authority in the heart of its dominions. It
is the dictate of sound policy — that the natural,
on the one hand, and the legal or political on the
other, should quadrate as much as possible. And
thus, instead of saying with Dr. Paley that pro
perty derived its constitution and being from the
law of the land — we should say that law never
exhibits a better understanding of her own place
and functions, than when, founding on materials

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 257
already provided, she feels that her wisest part is
but to act as an auxiliary, and to ratify that prior
constitution which nature had put into her hands.
15. In this exposition which we have now
attempted of the origin and rights of property,
we are not insensible to the mighty use of law.
By its power of enforcement, it perpetuates or
defends from violation that existent order of things
which itself had established, or, rather, which it
self had ratified. Even though at its first ordina
tions it had contravened those natural principles
which enter into the foundation of property, these
very principles will, in time, re-appear in favour
bf the new system, and yield to it a firmer and a
stronger support with every day of its continuance.
Whatever fraud or force may have been concerned
at the historical commencement of the present and
actual distribution of property— the then new pos-
sessors have at length become old ; and, under
the canopy and protection of law, the natural
rights have been superadded to the factitious or
the political. Law has guaranteed to each pro*
prietor a long-continued occupation, till a strong
and inveterate possessory feeling has taken root
and arisen in every heart. And secure of this
occupation, each may, in the course of years, have
mixed up to an indefinite amount, the improve
ments of his own skill and labour with those estates
which, as the fruit whether of anarchy or of vic
torious invasion, had fallen into his hands. So
VOL. I. R

258 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
that these first and second principles of natural
jurisprudence, whatever violence may have been
done to them at the overthrow of a former regime,
are again fostered into all their original efficacy
and strength during the continuance of a present
one. Insomuch, that if, at the end of half a cen
tury, those outcasts of a great revolutionary hurri
cane, the descendants of a confiscated noblesse
were to rally and combine for the recovery of their
ancient domains — they would be met in the en
counter, not by the force of the existing govern
ment only, but by the outraged and resentful feel
ings of the existing proprietors, whose possessory
and prescriptive rights, now nurtured into full and
firm establishment, would, in addition to the sense
of interest, enlist even the sense of justice upon
their side. Apart from the physical, did we but
compute the moral forces which enter into such a
conflict, it will often be found that the superiority
is in favour of the actual occupiers. Those feel
ings, on the one hand, which are associated with
the recollection of a now departed ancestry and
their violated rights, are found to be inoperative
and feeble, when brought into comparison or col
lision with that strength which nature has annexed
to the feelings of actual possession. Regarded as
but a contest of sentiment alone, the disposition to
recover is not so strong as the disposition to retain.
The recollection that these were once my parental
acres, though wrested from the hand of remote

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 259
ancestors by anarchists and marauders, would not
enlist so great or so practical a moral force on
the aggressive side of a new warfare, as the reflec
tion that these are now my possessed acres, which,
though left but by immediate ancestors, I have
been accustomed from infancy to call my own,
would enlist on the side of the defensive. In the
course of generations, those sedative influences,
which tend to the preservation of the existing
order, wax stronger and stronger ; and those dis
turbing influences, which tend to the restoration
of the ancient order, wax weaker and weaker—
till man at last ceases to charge himself with a
task so infinitely above his strength, as the adjust
ment of the quarrels and the accumulated wrongs
of the centuries which have gone by. In other
words, the constitution of law in regard to pro
perty, which is the work of man, may be so framed
as to sanction, and, therefore, to encourage the
enormities which have been perpetrated by the
force of arms — while the constitution of the mind
in regard to property, which is the work of nature,
is so framed, as, with conservative virtue, to be
altogether on the side of perpetuity and peace.
16. Had a legislator of supreme wisdom, and
armed with despotic power, been free to establish
the best scheme for augmenting the wealth and
the comforts of human society — he could have
devised nothing more effectual than that existing
constitution of property, which obtains so gene-
r2

260 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
rally throughout the world ; and by which each
man, secure within the limits of his own special
and recognised possession, might claim as being
rightly and originally his, the fruit of all the labour
which he may choose to expend upon it. But
this was not left to the discovery of man, or to
any ordinations of his consequent upon that dis
covery. He was not led to this arrangement by
the experience of its consequences ; but prompted
to it by certain feelings, as much prior to that
experience as the appetite of hunger is prior to
our experience of the use of food. In this matter,
too, the wisdom of nature has anticipated the wis
dom of man, by providing him with original prin
ciples of her own. Man was not left to find out
the direction in which his benevolence might be
most productive of enjoyment to others ; but he
has been irresistibly, and, as far as he is concerned,
blindly impelled thereto by means of a family
affection — which, concentrating his efforts on a
certain few, has made them a hundred times more
prolific of benefit to mankind than if all had been
left to provide the best they may for the whole,
without a precise or determinate impulse to any.
And in like manner, man was not left to find out
the direction in which his industry might be made
most productive of the materials of enjoyment;
but, with the efforts of each concentrated by means
of a special possessory affection on a certain por
tion of the territory, the universal produce is in*

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 261
calculably greater than under a medley system of
indifference, with every field alike open to all, and,
therefore, alike unreclaimed from the wilderness —
unless one man shall consent to labour it in seed
time, although another should reap the fruit of
his labour in harvest. It is good that man was
not trusted with the whole disentanglement of this
chaos — but that a natural jurisprudence, founded
on the constitution of the human mind, so far
advances and facilitates the task of that artificial
jurisprudence, which frames the various codes or
constitutions of human law. It is well that nature
has connected with the past and actual possession
of any thing, so strong a sense of right to its con
tinued possession ; and that she has so powerfully
backed this principle, by means of another as
strongly and universally felt as the former, even
that each man has a right to possess the fruit of
his own industry. The human legislator has little
more to do than to confirm, or rather to promul
gate and make known his determination to abide
by principles already felt and recognised by all
men. Wanting these, he could have fixed nothing,
he could have perpetuated nothing. The legal con
stitution of every state, in its last and finished form,
comes from the hand of man. But the great and
natural principles, which secure for these consti
tutions the acceptance of whole communities — •
implanted in man from his birth, or at least evin
cing their presence and power in very early child-

262 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
hood— these are what bespeak the immediate hand
of God. '
17. But these principles, strongly conservative
though they be, on the side of existing property
do not at all times prevent a revolution — which
is much more frequently, however, a revolution
of power than of property. But when such is the
degree of violence abroad in society, that even the
latter is effected — this, most assuredly, does not
arise from any decay or intermission of the pos
sessory feelings, that we have just been expound
ing ; but from the force and fermentation of other
causes which prevail in opposition to these, and in
spite of them. And, after that such revolution
has done its work, and ejected the old dynasty of
proprietors, the mischief to them may be as irre
coverable, as if their estates had been wrested from
them by an irruption from the waters of the ocean,
by earthquake, or the sweeping resistless visitation
of any other great physical calamity. The moral
world has its epochs and its transitions as well as
the natural, during which the ordinary laws are
not suspended, but only for the time overborne J
but this does not hinder the recurrence and full
reinstatement of these laws during the long eras
of intermediate repose. And it is marvellous with
what certainty and speed the conservative influ
ences, of which we have treated, gather around a
new system of things, with whatever violence, and
even injustice, it may have been ushered into the

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 263
world — insomuch that, under the guardianship of
the powers which be, those links of a natural ju
risprudence, now irretrievably torn from the for
mer, are at length transferred in all their wonted
tenacity to the existing proprietors ; rivetting each
of them to his own several property, and altogether
establishing a present order of as great firmness
and strength as ever belonged to the order which
went before it, but which is now superseded and
forgotten. It is well that nature hath annexed so
potent a charm to actual possession ; and a charm
which strengthens with every year and day of its
continuance. This may not efface the historical
infamy of many ancient usurpations. But the
world cannot be kept in a state of perpetual effer
vescence ; and now that the many thousand wrongs
of years gone by, as well as the dead on whom
they have been inflicted, are fading into deep
oblivion — it is well for the repose of its living
generations, that, in virtue of the strong possessory
feelings which nature causes to arise in the hearts
of existing proprietors, and to be sympathized with
by all other men, the possessors de facto have at
length the homage done to them of possessors de
jure ; strong in their own consciousness of right,
and strong in the recognition thereof by all their
contemporaries.
; 18. But ere we have completed our views upon
this subject, we must shortly dwell on a principle
of very extensive application in morals ; and which

264 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
itself forms a striking example of a most beauteous
and beneficent adaptation in the constitution of
the human mind to the needs and the wellbeing
of human society. It may be thus announced^
briefly and generally: — However strong the spe-
cial affections of our nature may be, yet, if along
with them there be but a principle of equity in
the mind, then these affections, so far from con
centrating our selfish regards upon their several
objects, to the disregard and injury of others, will
but enhance our respect and our sympathy for the
like affections in other men.
19. This may be illustrated, in the first instancej
by the equity observed between man and man, in
respect to the bodies which they wear — endowed,
as we may suppose them to be, with equal, at least
with like capacities of pain and suffering from ex
ternal violence. To inflict that very pain upon
another which I should resent or shrink from in
agony, if inflicted upon myself— this, to all sense
of justice, appears a very palpable iniquity, Let
us now conceive, then, that the sentient framework
of each of the parties was made twice more sensi
tive, or twice more alive to pain and pungency of
feeling than it actually is. -In one view it may be
said that each would become twice more selfish
than before. Each would feel a double interest
in warding off external violence from himself;
and so be doubly more anxious for his own pro
tection and safety. But, with the very same moral

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 265
nature as ever, each, now aware of the increased
sensibility, not merely in himself, but in his fellows,
would feel doubly restrained from putting forth
upon him a hand of violence. So, grant him to
have but a sense of equity — and exactly in pro
portion as he became tender of himself, would he
become tender of another also. If the now su
perior exquisiteness of his own frame afforded him
a topic, on which what may be called his selfish
ness would feel more intensely than before — the
now superior exquisiteness of another's frame
would, in like manner, afford a topic on which
his sense of justice would feel more intensely than
before. It is even as when men of very acute
sensibilities company together — each has, on that
very account, a more delicate and refined con
sideration for the feelings of all the rest ; and it
is only among men of tougher pellicle and rigid
fibre where coarseness and freedom prevail, be
cause there coarseness and freedom are not felt to
be offensive. Grant me but a sense of equity —
and the very fineness of my sensations which weds
me so much more to the care and the defence of
my own person, would also, on the imagination of
a similar fineness in a fellow-man, restrain me so
much more from the putting forth of any violence
upon his person. If I had any compassion at all,
or any horror at the injustice of inflicting upon
another that which I should feel to be a cruelty
if inflicted upon myself—I would experience a

266 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
greater recoil of sympathy from the blow that was
directed to the surface of a recent wound upon
another, precisely as I would feel a severer agony
in a similar infliction upon myself. So, there is
nothing in the quickness of my physical sensibili
ties, and by which I am rendered more alive to
the care and the guardianship of my own person
— there is nothing in this to blunt, far less to ex
tinguish my sensibilities for other men. Nay, it
may give a quicker moral delicacy to all the symT
pathies which I before felt for them. And espe
cially, the more sensitive I am to the hurts and
the annoyances which others bring upon my own
person, the more scrupulous may I be of being in
any way instrumental to the hurt or the annoyance
of others.
20. The same holds true between man and man,
not merely of the bodies which they wear, but of
the families which belong to them. Each man by
nature hath a strong affection for his own offspring
— the young whom he hath reared, and with whom
the daily habit of converse under the same roof,
hath strengthened all the original affinities that
subsisted between them. But one man a parent
knows that another man, also a parent, is actuated
by the very same appropriate sensibilities towards
his offspring ; and nought remains but to graft on
these separate and special affections in each a
sympathy between one neighbour and another;
that there might be a mutual respect for each

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 267
other's family affections. After the matter is ad
vanced thus far, we can be at no loss to perceive,
that, in proportion to the strength of the parental
affection with each, will be the strength of the
fellow-feeling that each has with the affection of
the other — insomuch that he who bears in his
heart the greatest tenderness for his own offspring,
would feel the greatest revolt against an act of
severity towards the offspring of his friend. Now
it is altogether so with the separate and original
sense of property in each of two neighbours, and
a sense of justice grafted thereupon — even as a
mutual neighbourlike sympathy may be grafted
on the separate family affections. One man a
proprietor, linked by many ties with that which
he hath possessed and been in the habitual use
and management of for years, is perfectly con
scious of the very same kind of affinity, between
another man a proprietor and that which belongs
to him. It is not the justice which so links him
to his own property, any more than it is the sym
pathy with his neighbour which has linked him to
his own children. But the justice hath given him
a respectful feeling for his neighbour's rights,
even as the sympathy would give him a tenderness
for his neighbour's offspring. And so far from
there being aught in the strength of the appro
priating principle that relaxes this deference to
the rights of his neighbour, the second principle

268 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
may in fact grow with the growth, and strengthen
with the strength of the first one.
21. For the purpose of maintaining an equitable
regard or an equitable conduct to others — it is
no more necessary that we should reduce or extir
pate the special affections of our nature, than
that, in order to make room for the love of an
other, we should discharge from the bosom all
love of ourselves. So far from this, the affection
we have for ourselves, or for those various objects
which by the constitution of our nature we are
formed to seek after and to delight in — is the
measure of that duteous regard which we owe to
others, and of that duteous respect which we owe
to all their rights and all their interests. The very
highest behest of social morality, while at the same
time the most comprehensive of its rules, is that
we should love our neighbour as we do ourselves.
Love to our neighbour is the thing which this rule
measures off — and love to ourselves is the thing
which it measures by. These two then, the social
and the selfish affections, instead of being as they
too often are inversely, might under a virtuous
regimen be directly proportional to each other.
At all events the way to advance or magnify the
one, is not surely to weaken or abridge the other.
The strength of certain prior affections which by
nature we do have, is the standard of certain pos
terior affections which morality tells that we ought
to have. Morality neither planted these prior

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 269
affections, nor does she enjoin us to extirpate
them. They were inserted by the hand of nature
for the most useful purposes; and morality, in-
stead of demolishing her work, applies the rule
and compass to it for the construction of her own.
22. It was not justice which presided over the
original distribution of property. It was not she
who assigned to each man his separate field, any
more than it was she who assigned to each man
his separate family. It was nature that did both,
by investing with such power those anterior cir
cumstances of habit and possession, which gave
rise — first, to the special love that each man bears
to his own children, and secondly, to the special
love that each man bears to his own acres. Had
there been no such processes beforehand, for thus
isolating the parental regards of each on that cer
tain household group which nature placed under
his roof, and the proprietary regards of each on
that certain local territory which history casts into
his possession ; or had each man been so consti
tuted, that, instead of certain children whom he
felt to be his own, he was alike loose to them, or
susceptible of a like random and indiscriminate
affection for any children ; or instead of certain
lands which he felt to be his own, he was alike
loose to them, or susceptible of a like tenacious
adherence to any lands — had such been the rudi
mental chaos which nature put into the hands of
man for the exercise of his matured faculties,

270 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
neither his morality nor his wisdom would have
enabled him to unravel it. But nature prepared
for man an easier task ; and when justice arose to
her work, she found a territory so far already
partitioned, and each proprietor linked by a strong
and separate tie of peculiar force to that part
which he himself did occupy. She found this to
be the land which one man wont to possess and
cultivate, and that to be the land which another
man wont to possess and cultivate — the destina
tion, not originally of justice, but of accident,
which her office nevertheless is not to reverse, but
to confirm. We hold it a beautiful part of our con
stitution, that, the firmer the tenacity wherewith
the first man adheres to his own, once that justice
takes her place among the other principles of his
nature, the prompter will be his recognition of the
second man's right to his own. If each man sat
more loosely to his own portion, each would have
viewed more loosely the right of his neighbour
to the other portion. The sense of property,
anterior to justice, exists in the hearts of all; and
the principle of justice, subsequent to property,
does not extirpate these special affections, but
only arbitrates between them* In proportion to
the felt strength of the proprietary affection in the
hearts of each, will be the strength of that defer
ence which each, in so far as justice has the mas
tery over him, renders to the rights and the pro
perty of his neighbour. These are the principles

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 271
of the histoire raisonn4e, that has been more or
less exemplified in all the countries of the world ;
and which might still be exemplified in the appro
priation of a desert island. If we had not had the
prior and special determinations of nature, justice
would have felt the work of appropriation to be an
inextricable problem. If we had not had justice,
with each man obeying only the impulse of his
own affections and unobservant of the like affec
tions of others, we should have been kept in a state
of constant and interminable war. Under the
guidance of nature and justice together, the whole
earth might have been parcelled out, without
conflict and without interference.
23. If a strong self-interest in one's person may
not only be consistent with, but, by the aid of the
moral sense, may be conducive to a proportionally
strong principle of forbearance from all injury to
the persons of other men — why may not the very
same law be at work in regard to property as to
person ? The fondness wherewith one nourishes
and cherishes his own flesh, might, we have seen,
enhance his sympathy and his sense of justice for
that of other men ; and so, we affirm, might it be
of the fondness wherewith one nourishes and cher
ishes his own field. The relation in which each
man stands to his own body, was anterior to the
first dawnings of his moral nature ; and his in
stinctive sensibilities of pain and suffering, when
any violence is inflicted, were also anterior. But

272 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
as his moral perceptions expand, and he considers
others beside himself who are similarly related to
their bodies — these very susceptibilities not only
lead him to recoil from the violence that is offered
to himself; but they lead him to refrain from the
offering of violence to other men. They may have
an air of selfishness at the first; yet so far from
being obstacles in the way of justice, they are in
dispensable helps to it. And so may each man
stand related to a property as well as to a person ;
and by ties that bind him to it, ere he thought of
his neighbour's property at all — by instinctive
affections, which operated previously to a sense of
justice in his bosom ; and yet which, so far from
acting as a thwart upon his justice to others, give
additional impulse to all his observations of it.
He feels what has passed within his own bosom,
in reference to the field that he has possessed, and
has laboured, and that has for a time been respected
by society as his ; and he is aware of the very
same feeling in the breast of a neighbour in rela*
tion to another field ; and in very proportion to
the strength of his own feeling, does he defer to
that of his fellow-men. It is at this point that the
sense of justice begins to operate— not for the
purpose of leading him to appropriate his own, for
this he has already done ; but for the purpose of
leading him to respect the property of others. It
was not justice which gave to either of them at
the first that feeling of property, which each has

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 273
in his own separate domain ; any more than it was
justice which gave to either of them that feeling
of affection which each has for his own children.
It is after and not before these feelings are formed,
that justice steps in with her golden rule, of not
doing to others as we would not others to do unto
us; and, all conscious as we are of the dislike and
resentment we should feel on the invasion of our
property, it teaches to defer to a similar dislike
and a similar resentment in other men. And, so
far from this original and instinctive regard for
this property which is my own, serving at all to
impair, when once the moral sense comes into
play, it enhances my equitable regard for the pro
perty of others. It is just with me the proprietor*
as it is with me the parent. My affection for my
own family does not prompt me to appropriate the
family of another ; but it strengthens my sympa
thetic consideration for the tenderness and feeling
of their own parent towards them. My affection
for my own field does not incline me to seize upon
that of another man ; but it strengthens my equi
table consideration for all the attachments and the
claims which its proprietor has upon it. In pro
portion to the strength of that instinct which binds
me to my own offspring, is the sympathy I feel
with the tenderness of other parents. In propor
tion to the strength of that instinct which binds
me to my own property, is the sense of equity I
feel towards the rights of all other proprietors. It
vol. i. s

27* AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
was not justice which gave either the one instinct
or the other; but justice teaches each man to
bear respect to that instinet in another, which he
feels to be of powerful operation in his own bosom.
24. It is in virtue of my sentient nature that I
am so painfully alive to the violence done upon
my own body, as to recoil from the infliction of
it upon myself. And it is in virtue of my moral
nature, that, alive to the pain of other bodies than
my own, I refrain from the infliction of it upon
them. It is not justice which gives the sensa
tions; but justice pronounces on the equal respect
that is due to the sensations of all. Neither does
justice give the sensations pf property, but it finds
them ; and pronounces on the respect which each
owes to the sensations of all the rest. It was not
justice which gave the personal feeling ; neither is
it justice which gives the possessory feeling. Jus
tice has nothing to do with the process by which
this body came to be my own ; and although now,
perhaps, there is not a property, at least in the
civilized world, which may not have passed into
the hand of their actual possessors, by a series of
purchases, over which justice had the direction
¦—yet there was a time when it might have been
said, that justice has had nothing to do with the
process by which this garden came to be my own ;
and yet, then as well as now, it would have been
the utterance of a true feeling, that he who touches
this garden, touches the apple of mine eye. And

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 275
it is. as much the dictate of justice that we shall
respect the one sensation as the other. He, in
deed, who has the greatest sensitiveness, whether
about his own person or his own property, will,
with an equal principle of justice in his constitu
tion, have the greatest sympathy both for the
personal and the proprietary rights of others.
This view of it saves all the impracticable mysti
cism that has gathered around the speculations of
those, who conceive of justice as presiding over
the first distributions of property; and so have
fallen into the very common mistake, of trying
to account for that which had been provided
for by the wisdom of nature, as if it had been
provided by the wisdom and the principle of man.
At the first allocations of property, justice may
have had no hand in them. They were altogether
fortuitous. One man set himself down, perhaps
on a better soil than his neighbour, and chalked
out for himself a larger territory, at a time when
there was none who interfered or who- offered to
share it with bim j and so he came to as firm a
possessory feeling in reference to his wider do
main, as the other has in reference to his smaller.
Our metaphysical jurists are sadly puzzled to
account for the original inequalities of property,
and for the practical acquiescence of all men in
the actual and very unequal distribution of it-
having recourse to an original social compact, and
to other fictions alike visionary. But if there be
s 2

276 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
truth in our theory, it is just as easy to explain,
why the humble proprietor would no more think
of laying claim to certain acres of his rich neigh
bour's estate beeause it was larger than his own,
than he would think of laying claim to certain
children of his neighbour's family because it was
larger — or even of laying claim to certain parts of
his neighbour's person because it was larger. He
is sufficiently acquainted with his own nature to
be aware, that, were the circumstances changed,
he should feel precisely as his affluent neighbour
does; and he respects the feeling accordingly.
He knows that, if himself at the head of a larger
property, he would have the same affection for all
its fields that the actual proprietor has ; and that,
if at the head of a larger family, he would have
the same affection with the actual parent for all
its children. It is by making justice come in at
the right place, that is, not prior to these strong
affections of nature but posterior to them, that the
perplexities of this inquiry are done away. The
principle on which it arbitrates, is, not the com
parative magnitude of the properties, but the re
lative feelings of each actual possessor towards
each actual property ; and if it find these in every
instance to be the very feelings which all men
would have in the circumstances belonging to that
instance — it attempts no new distribution, but
gives its full sanction to the distribution which is
already before it. This is the real origin and

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 277
upholder of that conservative influence which
binds together the rich and the poor in society ;
and thus it is that property is respected through
out all its gradations.
25. It is from the treatment of an original as
if it were a derived affection, that the whole ob
scurity on this topic has arisen. It is quite as
impossible to educe the possessory feeling from an
anterior sense of justice, or from a respect for law
— as it is to educe the parental feeling from a pre
vious and comprehensive regard for the interests
of humanity. There is no doubt that the general
good is best promoted by the play of special family
affections ; but this is the work of nature, and not
the work of man. And there is no doubt that the
wealth and comfort of society are inconceivably
augmented by those influences, which bind each
individual nearly as much to his own property, as
he is bound to his own offspring. But in the one
case as well as the other, there were certain in
stinctive regards that came first, and the office of
justice is altogether a subsequent one ; not to put
these regards into the breast of any, but to award
the equal deference that is due to the regards of
all — insomuch that the vast domain of one indi
vidual, perhaps transmitted to him from generation
to generation, throughout the lengthened series of
an ancestry, whose feet are now upon the earth,
but whose top reaches the clouds, and is there lost
in distant and obscure antiquity — is, to the last

278 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
inch of its margin, under a guardianship of justice
as unviolable, as that which assures protection and
ownership to the humble possessor of one solitary
acre. The right of property is not the less de*
ferred to, either because its divisions are unequal,
or because its origin is unknown* And, even when
history tells us that it is founded on some deed of
iniquitous usurpation, there is a charm in the con*
tinued occupation, that prevails and has the mas*
tery over our most indignant remembrance of the
villany of other days* It says much for the strength
of the possessory feeling, that, even in less than
half a century, it will, if legal claims are mean
while forborne, cast into obliteration all the deeds,
and even all the delinquencies, which attach to
the commencement of a property* At length the
prescriptive right bears every thing before it4 as
by the consuetude of English, by the use and wont
of Scottish law. And therefore, once more, in
stead of saying with Dr. Paley that it is the law of
the land which constitutes the basis of property—
the law exhibits her best wisdom, when she founds
on the materials of that basis which nature and
the common sense of mankind have laid before
her. 26. Dr. Thomas Brown we hold to have been
partly right and partly wrong upon this subject.
He evinces a true discernment of what may be
termed the pedigree of our feelings in regard to
property, when he says, and says admirably well—

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 279
that,* " Justice is not what constitutes property;
it is a virtue which presupposes property, and re
spects it however constituted." And further, that
—"justice as a moral virtue is not the creation of
property, but the conformity of our actions to
those views of property, which vary in the various
states of society." But it is not as he would
affirm, it is not because obedience to a system of
law, of which the evident tendency is to the public
goodj is the object of our moral regard— it is not
this which moralizes, if we may be allowed such
an application of the term, or rather, which con
stitutes the virtuousness of our respect to another
man's property. This is the common mistake of
those moralists, who would ascribe every useful
direction or habitude of man to some previous and
comprehensive view taken by himself of what is
best for the good of the individual or the good of
society ; instead of regarding such habitude as the
fruit of a special tendency, impressed direct by
the hand of nature, on a previous and compre
hensive view taken by its Author, and therefore
bearing on it a palpable indication both of the
goodness and the wisdom of nature's God — even
as hunger is the involuntary result of man's phy
sical Constitution, and not of any care or considera
tion by man on the uses of food. The truth is — »
when deferring to another's right of property, we
do not think of the public good in the matter at
* Lecture lxxxiii:

280 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
all. But we are glad, in the first instance, each
to possess and to use and to improve all that we
are able to do without molestation, whether that
freedom from molestation has been secured to us
by law or by the mere circumstances of our state ;
and, in virtue of principles, not resulting from any
anticipations of wisdom or any views of general
philanthropy, (because developed in early child
hood, and long before we are capable of being
either philanthropists or legislators,) we feel a
strong link of ownership with that which we have
thus possessed and used, and on which we have
bestowed our improvements ; and we are aware
that another man, in similar relation with another
property, will feel towards it in like manner ; and
a sense of justice, or its still more significant and
instructive name, of equity, suggests this equality
between me and him — that, in the same manner
as I would regard this encroachment on myself as
injurious, so it were alike injurious in me to make
a similar encroachment upon my neighbour.
27. We have expatiated thus long on the origin
and rights of property — because of all subjects, it
is the one, regarding which our writers on juris
prudence have sent forth the greatest amount of
doubtful and unsatisfactory metaphysics. They
labour and are in great perplexity to explain even
the rise of the feeling or desire that is in the mind
regarding it. They reason, as if the very concep
tion of property was that which could not have

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 281
entered into the heart of man without a previous
sense of justice. In this we hold them to have
antedated matters wrong. The conception of pro
perty is aboriginal ; and the office of justice is
not to put it into any man's head ; but to arbitrate
among the rival feelings of cupidity, or the arro
gant and overpassing claims that are apt to get
into all men's heads — not to initiate man into the
notion of property ; but, in fact, to limit and re
strain his notion of it — not to teach the creatures
who at first conceive themselves to have nothing,
what that is which they might call their own ; but
to teach the creatures whose first and earliest ten
dency is to call every thing their own, what that
is which they must refrain from and concede to
others. When justice rises to authority among
men, her office is, not to wed each individual by
the link of property to that which he formerly
thought it was not competent for him to use or to
possess ; but it is to divorce each individual from
that which it is not rightly competent for him to
use or to possess — and thus restrict each to his
own rightful portion. Its office in fact is restric
tive, not dispensatory. The use of it is, not to
give the first notion of property to those who were
destitute of it, but to limit and restrain the notion
with those among whom it is apt to exist in a state
of overflow. The use of law, in short, the great
expounder and enforcer of property, is not to
instruct the men who, but for her lessons, would

282 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
appropriate none; but it is to restrain the men
whoj but for her checks and prohibitions, would
monopolize alb
28* Such then seems to have been the purpose
of nature in so framing our mental constitution^
that we not only appropriate from the first* but
feel, each, such a power in those circumstances,
which serve to limit the appropriation of every
one man, and to distinguish them from those of
others—- that all, as if with common and practical
consent, sit side by side together, without conflict
and without interference, on their own respective
portions, however Unequal, of the territory in
which they are placed. On the Uses, the indis
pensable uses of such an arrangement, we need
not expatiate.* The hundred-fold superiority, in
* " The effect (of the abolition of property) would be as in
stant as inevitable. The cultivation of the fields would be aban
doned. The population would be broken up into straggling bands
— each prowling in quest of a share in the remaining subsistence
for themselves ; and in the mutual contests of rapacity, they
would anticipate, by deaths of violence, those still crueller deaths
that would ensue, in the fearful destitution which awaited them.
Yet many would be left whom the sword had spared, but whom
famine would not spare — that overwhelming calamity under
which a whole nation might ultiinately' disappear. But a few
miserable survivors would dispute the spontaneous fruits of the
earth with the beasts of the field, that now multiplied and over
ran that land which had been desolated of its people. And so
by a Series, every step of which was marked with increasing
wretchedness, the transition Would at length be made to a thinly
scattered tribe oT hunters, on what before had been a peopled

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 283
the amount of produce for the subsistence of hu*
man beings, which an appropriated country has
over art equal extent of a like fertile but unappro-
priatedj and therefore unreclaimed wilderhess, is
too obvious to be explained* It may be stated
however; and when an economy so beneficial^
without which even a few stragglers of our race
could not be Supported in comfort; and a large
human family, though many times inferior to that
which now peoples our globe, could not be sup
ported at alL***when the effect of this economy, in
multiplying to a degree inconceivable the aliment
of human bodies, is viewed in connection with
those prior tendencies of the human tnind which
gave it birth, we cannot but regard the whole as
an instance, and one of the strongest which it is
possible to allege, of the adaptation of external
nature to that mental constitution wherewith the
Author of nature hath endowed us.
29* In connection with this part of our subject,
there is one especial adaptation, the statement of
territory of industrious and cultivated men. Thus on the abo
lition of this single law, the fairest and most civilized region of
the globe, Which at present sustains its millions of families, out
of a fertility that now waves over its cultivated, because its ap-'
propriated acres, would, on the simple tie of appropriation being
broken, lapse in a very few years into a frightful solitude, or, if
not bereft of humanity altogether, would at last become as deso
late and dreary as a North American wilderness." — Political
Economy, in connection with the Moral State and Moral Pros
pects of Society.

284 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
which we more willingly bring forward, that, be
side being highly important in itself, it forms an
instance of adaptation in the pure and limited
sense of the term* — even the influence of a cir
cumstance strictly material on the state of the
moral world in all the civilized, and indeed in all
the appropriated countries on the face of the earth.
We advert to the actual fertility of the land, and
to the circumstances purely physical by which the
degree or measure of that fertility is determined.
It has been well stated by some of the expounders
of geological science, that, while the vegetable
mould on the earth's surface is subject to perpe
tual waste, from the action both of the winds and
of the waters, either blowing it away in dust, or
washing it down in rivers to the ocean — the loss
thus sustained is nevertheless perpetually repaired,
by the operation of the same material agents on
the uplands of the territory — whence the dust and
the debris, produced by a disintegration that is
constantly going on even in the hardest rocks, is
either strewed by the atmosphere, or carried down
in an enriching sediment by mountain streams to
the lands which are beneath them. It has been
rightly argued, as the evidence and example of a
benevolent design, that the opposite causes of
consumption and of supply are so adjusted to each
other, as to have ensured the perpetuity of our
* See the first paragraphs of the Introductory Chapter.

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 285
soils.* But even though these counteracting forces
had been somewhat differently balanced ; though
* " It is highly interesting to trace up, in this manner, the
action of causes with which -we are familiar, to the production
of effects, which at first seem to require the introduction of un
known and extraordinary powers ; and it is no less interesting to
observe, how skilfully nature has balanced the action of all the
minute causes of waste, and rendered them conducive to the
general good. Of this we have a most remarkable instance, in
the provision made for preserving the soil, or the coat of vege
table mould, spread out over the surface of the earth. This
coat, as it consists of loose materials, is easily washed away by
the rains, and is continually carried down by the rivers into the
sea. This effect is visible to every one ; the earth is removed
not only in the form of sand and gravel, but its finer particles
suspended in the waters, tinge those of some rivers continually,
and those of all occasionally, that is, when they are flooded or
swollen with rains. The quantity of earth thus carried down
varies according to circumstances: it has been computed in
some instances, that the water of a river in a flood, contains
earthy matter suspended in it, amounting to more than the two
hundred and fiftieth part of its own bulk. The soil therefore
is continually diminished, its parts being delivered from higher
to lower levels, and finally delivered into the sea. But it is a
fact, that the soil, notwithstanding, remains the same in quan
tity, or at least nearly the same, and must have done so, ever
since the earth was the receptacle of animal or vegetable life.
The soil therefore is augmented from other causes, just as much,
at an average, as it is diminished by those now mentioned ; and
this augmentation evidently can proceed from nothing but the
constant and slow disintegration of the rocks. In the perma
nence, therefore, of a coat of vegetable mould on the surface of
the earth, we have a demonstrative proof of the continual de
struction of the rocks; and cannot but admire the skill with

286 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
the wasting operation had remained as active and
as powerful, while a more difficult pulverization
of the rocks had made the restorative operation
Blower and feebler than before— still we might
have had our permanent or stationary soils, but
only all of less fertility than that in which we now
find them, A somewhat different constitution of
the rocks; or a somewhat altered proportion in
the forces of that machinery which is brought to
bear upon them — in the cohesion that withstands,
or in the impulse and the atmospherical deposi
tions and the grinding frosts and the undermining
torrents that separate and carry off the materials
—a slight change in one or all of these causes,
might have let down each of the various soils on
the face of the world to a lower point in the scale
of productiveness than 3t present belongs to them.
And when we think of the mighty bearing which
the determination of this single element has on
the state and interests of human society, we can
not resist the conclusion that, depending as it does
on so many influences, there has, in the assortment
of these, been a studied adaptation of the material
and the mental worlds to each other. For only
let us consider the effect, had the fertility been
which the powers of the many chemical and mechanical agents
employed in this complicated work are so adjusted, as to make
the supply and the waste of the soil exaetly equal to one an
other." — Play fairs Illustrations of the Huttonian Theory. Sec
tion iii. Art. 13.

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 287
brought so low, as that on the best of soils, the
produce extracted by the most strenuous efforts
of human toil, could no more than repay the cul
tivation bestowed on them — or that the food, thus
laboriously raised, would barely suffice for the
maintenance of the labourers. It is obvious that
a fertility beneath this point would have kept the
whole earth in a state of perpetual barrenness and
desolation — when, though performing as now its
astronomical circuit in the heavens, it would have
been a planet bereft of life, or at least unfit for the
abode and sustenance of the rational generations
by whom it is at present occupied. But even with
a fertility at this point, although a race of men
might have been upholden, the tenure by which
each man held his existence behoved to have been
a life of unremitting drudgery; and we should
have beheld the whole species engaged in a con
stant struggle of penury and pain for the supply
of their animal necessities. And it is because
of a fertility above this point, the actual fertility
pf vast portions of land in most countries of the
earth— that many and extensive are the soils which
yield a large surplus produce, over and above the
maintenance of all who are engaged, whether
directly or indirectly, in the work of their cultiva
tion. The strength of the possessory feelings on
the one hand, giving rise to possessory rights re
cognised and acquiesced in by all men ; these
rights investing a single individual with the owner-

288 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO
ship of lands, that yield on the other hand a sur
plus produce, over which he has the uncontrolled
disposal — make up together such a constitution
of the moral, combined with such a constitution
of the material system, as demonstrates that the
gradation of wealth in human society has its deep
and its lasting foundation in the nature of things.
And that the construction of such an economy,
with all the conservative influences by which it is
upholden,* attests both the wisdom and the bene
volence of Him who is the Author of nature, may
best be evinced by the momentous purposes to
which this surplus produce of land (the great
originator of all that can be termed affluence in the
world) is subservient.—" Had no ground yielded
more in return for the labour expended on it, than
the food of the cultivators and their secondaries,
the existence of one and all of the human race
would have been spent in mere labour. Every
man would have been doomed to a life of unre
mitting toil for his bodily subsistence ; and none
could have been supported in a state of leisure,
either for idleness, or for other employments than
those of husbandry, and such coarser manufactures
as serve to provide society with the second neces
saries of existence. The species would have risen
but a few degrees, whether physical or moral,
above the condition of mere savages. It is just
* See Art. 7, of this Chapter.

THE WELLBEING OF SOCIETY. 289
because of a fertility in the earth, by which it
yields a surplus over and above the food of the
direct and secondary labourers, that we can com
mand the services of a disposable population, who,
in return for their maintenance, minister to the
proprietors of this surplus, all the higher com
forts and elegancies of life. It is precisely to this
surplus we owe it, that society is provided with
more than a coarse and a bare supply for the
necessities of animal nature. It is the original
fund out of which are paid the expenses of art,
and science, and civilization, and luxury, and law,
and defence, and all, in short, that contributes
either to strengthen or to adorn the commonwealth.
Without this surplus, we should have had but an
agrarian population — consisting of husbandmen,
and those few homely and rustic artificers, who,
scattered in hamlets over the land, would have
given their secondary services to the whole popu
lation. It marks an interesting connection be
tween the capabilities of the soil, and the condi
tion of social life, that to this surplus we stand
indispensably indebted, for our crowded cities,
our thousand manufactories for the supply of com
forts and refinements to society, our wide and
diversified commerce, our armies of protection,
our schools and colleges of education, our halls of
legislation and justice, even our altars of piety and
temple services. It has been remarked by geolo
gists, as the evidence of a presiding design in
VOL. i. t

290 AFFECTIONS WHICH CONDUCE TO, ETC
nature, that the waste of the soil is so nicely ba
lanced by the supply from the -disintegration of
the upland rocks, which are worn and pulverized
at such a rate, as to keep up a good vegetable
mould on the surface of the earth. But each
science teems with thev like evidences of a devising
and intelligent God ; and whert we view aright
the many beneficent functions, to which, through
the instrumentality of its surplus produce, . the
actual degree of the earth's fertility is subservient,
we cannot imagine a more wondrous and beautiful
adaptation between the state of external nature
and the mechanism of human society."*
* Political Economy, in connection with the Moral State and
Moral Prospects of Society, Chap. ii. Art. 10. In the appendix
to this work, on the subject of rent, we have made further obser
vations tending to prove that " there is an optimism in the actual
constitution of the land, as in every thing else that has proceeded
from the hand of the Almighty."

END OF VOL. I.

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