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^p tbe same autbor.
THE LAW OF LOVE, AND LOVE AS A LAW ; or, Chris-
tian Ethics. A new edition^ with importatii additioTis,
I2IT10, J1.75.
AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN ; or, The Body and Mind
IN One System. With illustrative diagrams. Revised
edition. i2ino, $1-75.
THE SCRIPTURAL IDEA OF MAN. i2mo, Ji.oo.
TEACHINGS AND COUNSELS. Twenty Baccalaureate Ser-
mons. i2mo, $1.50.
THE LAW OF LOV£]
AND LOYE AS A LAW:
OR,
CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
VitU&en (EDttton.
THEORY OF MORALS RESTATED,
FOR USE WITH "THE OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN.'
BY
MARK HOPKINS, D. D., LL.D.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS.
1891.
E.M,
\
VM
Copyright, 1881,
Bt CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge, M/ixs., U. S. A.
Fnated by H. O. Iloughton & Company.
To THE
HON. WILLIAM E. DODGE.
My DiiAii Sib: —
As the foUowiug work, in its present form, is due to leisure
that came through youi' bciieficeiice, it is fit that it should be
dedicated to you. I wish, too, as my name has so long been
associated with yours in connection with a great movement for
the spread of Chiislianity, that it may also l)e thus associated in
connection with a svKtcni of Moral Science which is no less in
accord with Christianity than witli the constitution of man, and
which will, as I trust, aid in its promotion.
With high resjject and regard, yours,
MAKK HOPIilNS.
PREFACE.
In the preface to the first edition of " The Law
of Love and Love as a Law," reasons were given
for the publication of that work in addition to the
' Lectures on Moral Science." To the third edi-
tion a second preface was added, and of that the
larger part is here given.
" In publishing a third edition of the following
work some notice of the discussions to which it
has given rise seems called for. In these it has
apparently been forgotten by many how entirely
the work is an exposition of that cardinal pre-
cept of Christian philosophy, ' Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neigh-
bor as thyself.' As imperative there is in that
precept Law ; and the one thing required by that
law is Love. This gives us ' The Law of Love,'
and the law practically carried out gives us ' Love
as a Law.' With this the doctrine of ends as
stated in the ' Lectures on Moral Science ' is co-
incident, since the end of Love, so far as there is
choice in it, and so morality, must be the good
of the person loved.
n PREFACE.
" But while the cardinal principle of Christian
philosophy is as stated above, that of the prevalent
philosophy is, ' Do right for the sake of the
right.' Are these identical ? If so, those that
hold to the doctrine of an ultimate right may spare
their attacks, for I am substantially agreed with
them. If not, it is for them to reconcile their ao
ceptance of the precept with their acceptance of
Christianity as a philosophy. What we need is a
Christian philosophy. Not that philosophy is to
be received on the basis of revelation. To be
philosophy it must be received on the basis of rea-
son. But if a revelation really from God teach or
imply a philosophy, it must coincide with that
taught by reason, and ought to be seen thus to
coincide. If Christendom is ever to be a fair ex-
ponent of Christianity, its Moral Philosophy must
be that of Christianity.
" We need also a philosophy in which the prac-
tical shall be drawn from the theoretical part, so
that they shall not stand, as in most treatises, like
the two sides of the Yosemite Valley, with a deep
gulf between them. If, as Dr. Wayland says in
the opening of his ' Practical Ethics,' the whole
Moral Law is contained in the single word
' Love,' it would seem self-evident that the theo-
retical part, the philosophy, must consist of an
exposition of Law and Love as they are in them-
selves, and as related to each other. Such an expo-
iition Dr. Wayland did not attempt, nor can it be
PREFACE. VU
Buccessfully attempted by any one of his school,
or of the school of Right, except as it can be
shown that the two precepts above given are iden-
tical.
" That those precepts can be made identical I
do not believe. To me they seem to differ both
in their sphere and object. The sphere of the one
is choice, and its object good. To choose the good
of beings capable of good, disinterestedly and as
valuable in itself, is the love required. Here the
sphere is choice without volition or outward action,
and the obligation to choose thus is aifirmed in
view of good as valuable in itself, and with no in-
tervention of the idea of right as distinguished
from that of obligation. The sphere of the other
is volition and outward action, and its object is
right, or the right. As commonly defined, and in
its only intelligible sense, right is the quality of
an action. This makes the right to be an abstrac-
tion, a mere intellection, as it is acknowledged to
be, which can become a motive to action only as
an element is ' surreptitiously ' borrowed from the
sensibility to combine with it and make it obliga-
tion.
" But if the two precepts can be made identical
ill their material, the whole form and pressure of
a system of duty will be different as the one or
the other shall be made prominent. The Ptole-
maic and Copernican systems differ, not in mate-
rial, but in what they made central ; and yet the
nil PREFACE.
transition from the one to the other was one of the
great steps of progress. And so it is here. Let
Love be made central, so that in testing actions
men shall be compelled to inquire whether they
proceed from Love, and the moral heavens would
come into order as a system, and order in society
would be the result. The idea of right I accept ;
I believe in it as obligatory from its relation to
good. As thus related, and so only, it loses that
affinity for fanaticism so conspicuous in its his-
tory, and which has made religious wars and per-
secutions more virulent and cruel than any oth-
3rs. The persecuting Sauls and assassinating
Balthazars of all ages have ' verily thought that
they ought to do ' what they have done, and the
step now needed is to preclude, as far as possible,
such mistakes by making good and Love central,
and the ' Law of Love ' the test of right.
" We also need, in practical morals, to see the
guidance which Love may find from the distinc-
tion between the susceptibilities and the powers ;
and from the whole constitution of nature and of
man through the unifying relation of conditioning
and conditioned forces and faculties, and the Law
of Limitation based on that. Whoever will be at
the pains to trace this out will, I hope, find a sys-
tem consistent with itself and in harmony with
aature on the one hand, and with the Scriptures
on the other.
" For the readier apprehension of the system,
PREFACE. IX
which involves the step above mentioned, I ask
attention to the following propositions which con-
tain its principal points : —
(1.) " Moral philosophy regards man only as
choosing and acting from choice.
(2.) " Moral action is rational, as distinguished
from instinctive action.
(3.) " Rational action implies a recognized
end.
(4.) " There can be no conception of an end as
a ground of rational action except through a sen-
sibility.
(5.) " The end which man ought to choose is
indicated by his moral nature, which affirms obli-
gation to choose it ; but it is in his power to re-
ject it.
(6.) " This end is the good of all beings capa-
ble of good, his own included.
(7.) " This good has value in itself, absolute
value, which makes it an object of rational choice
for its own sake.
(8.) " The choice of this good as the supremo
end is the Love required by the Law ; and hence,
in Love, known as Law, wisdom and virtue are
identified. As obedience to moral law, it is vir-
tue ; as the choice of good, it is wisdom.
(9.) " When an act of choice alone is required
without volition or the use of means, as in Love
or good- willing, obligation is affirmed at once
without the intervention of the idea of riglit, and
X PKEFACE.
with no place for it unless it be regarded as syn-
onomous with obligation.
(10.) " The choice of good being thus virtue,
action from this choice is virtuous action. The
good tree makes the fruit good.
(11.) " Action that would naturally tend to
promote this good is right action, and is obliga-
tory from that tendency.
(12.) " The rejection of the end, indicated by
the moral nature, and any form of choice incom-
patible with, that end, is lawlessness and wicked-
ness.
" Identifying as above, wisdom and virtue in
Love known as Law, we find a ground of har-
mony between teleological and intuitive systems.
It has not been sufficiently observed, that the
moral imperative, in which I believe fully, the
affirmation of obligation to love, can be legiti-
mately given forth only in the apprehension of
that very good which wisdom would choose for its
own sake. This imperative is not the product of
will. It is not, therefore, as the advocates of the
theory of right persistently assert, a part of vir-
tue. It is no more a part of virtue than it is of
vice, since there could be neither without it. It
is the voice of our moral nature made possible and
rational by the rational apprehension of good, and
can become Law only as that good is the good of
ill beings capable of good, or at least is compati-
bl(» with that. In this view of it, that ' Good
PREFACE. XI
Desa of will,' of which Kant speaks as ' the one
absolute good,' is not a good at all. It is good-
ness — goodness because it is the choice of good,
and without the idea of that, the very idea of
goodness had not been possible.
" It is to be added that if the good be disin-
terestedly chosen, the fact that it is a good can
never make the system utilitarian. That the
system is one of Love, the very Love commanded
and made Law by God, would, it might have
been supposed, be a bar to the charge of utilitari-
anism. Love cannot be utilitarian."
The above is thus far retained, partly to show
that in rewriting, as I have now done, the theo-
retical part of the work, the system is not changed.
My objects in rewriting were two. Of these, one
was to bring the present work into closer relation
to the " Outline Study of Man." It is really a
continuation of that from the point where up-
building was completed, and would naturally fol-
low that in a course of study ; but as this was
written before that, the points of connection were
less numerous and less obvious than I could wish.
I wished also to carry over into moral science
the method of teaching by diagrams. For this
there is less scope hero than in mental science,
but it is hoped that what has been done may not
be without benefit.
Another object I had in view was, by giving
the system more unity, to state it so that it might
til PREFACE.
be more readily apprehended. In attempting
this, I have started from a new definition, have
carried the subject of the science back from con-
duct, where it is placed by Mr. Herbert Spencer,
in his Data of Ethics, to man himself as choos-
ing and acting from choice, and have sought to
keep closely to an exposition of the definition. It
should be said, however, that a subject so complex
as this, and involving so much of mental science,
cannot be understood without careful study.
The system advocated in the following work
differs radically from that commonly received.
Some of the differences have been already men-
tioned, but as the interest of truth requires that
they should be clearly seen, the following propo-
sitions are stated. In common with most other
systems, it makes choice the moral act. It then
differs from them —
(1.) In making the ultimate object of choice
always a good as furnished by the sensibility,
and not right, or the right as furnished by the
moral nature.
(2.) In making the sensibility a condition for
moral ideas, while it holds to their origin as nec-
essary, and from the moral reason. That they
are conditioned on a sensibility no more affects
their character as rational, than the fact that the
ideas of personal identity and resemblance are
Eonditioned on the idea of being affects their
character as rational.
PKEFACE. XUl
(3.) In making the idea of rights and of obli-
gation, as belonging to the person, the primary
product of the moral reason, instead of the idea of
right as the quality of an action, or of the right aa
an abstraction.
(4.) In making the idea of obligation in view
of a higher good to be chosen, independent of that
of right.
(5.) In the place and office now necessarily
given to the conscience as behind the will, and as
privy councilor in guiding its choices.
(6.) In the identity of choice, and also of wia-
dom and virtue, with Love.
(7.) In the ability we thus gain to reconcile, as
in no other way, teleological and intuitive, script-
ui-al and rational systems.
(8.) In bringing into moral science the law of
the conditioning and the conditioned, and the law
of limitation based upon that.
Other points might be mentioned, and are, in
the preface to the first edition, but these are suffi-
cient.
Among the above I ask special attention to the
second, in which the relation of a good in the sen-
sibility to moral ideas is affirmed. I hold to ob-
ligation as strongly as any one. I hold to a moral
aature, through which rights and obligation are
.mmediately and necessarily affirmed ; but I hold
that obligation is obligation to choose, and because
I hold further, that it is obligation to choose a
nv PKEFACE.
good rather than the quality of an action, or an
abstract quality, I am regarded by some as a util-
itarian. Utility is a good thing in its place, but
that place is not at the basis of a moral system.
I would choose a good, not for its utility, for it
has none. It is the only thing I know of that
neither has, nor can have, utility. I would choose
it for its own sake, and also as under obligation to
choose it, and that behest of moral law would, or
should, lead me to adhere to the choice of the
good, and of the good of others, which is love,
under every extremity. A system which thus
recognizes a moral nature, and the sacredness of
obligation, is not what I understand a system of
utility or of expediency to be. Nor is it a blend-
ing of any two systems, but a statement of the re-
lation of the sensibility and the moral nature to
the will, of virtue to a good, and thus the solution,
or at least an attempted solution, of the most diffi-
cult problem in theoretical morals.
In the rewriting, I have given more prominence
than heretofore to Rights, making the idea of
them, in its necessary connection with that of ob-
ligation, the primary moral idea, and also making
them, in connection with the desires, active prin-
ciples. I have also placed the moral affections
among the active principles. •
As the doctrines of the work have not been
shanged, the correspondence with Dr. McCosh ia
retained, though with some want, not important,
of accuracy in the references.^
^ Soe Apjjcudix.
CONTENTS.
PART 1.
THEORETICAL.
THE LAW OF LOVE.
MAN CHOOSING UNUiiU MORAL LAW.
Dtfinitioa, Division, aud Preliminary Statements . 21
DIVISION L
rhe Intellect M
DIVISION II.
THB SKNSIBILITY.
CHAPTER I.
rhe Sensibility in General ... . H
CHAPTER IL
A Good . . . . 4)
CIIAPTEK III.
Different Kinds of Activity determining Tlie Quality of the Good 45
CHAPTER IV.
Impulsive Principles of Action !i3
^^ CHAl'TER V
Rational Principles of Action . . . . 59
CHAPTER VI.
Q« Moral Aff«ct)op» (f
^Vi CONTENTS.
DIVISION m.
TheWai ... 88
DIVISION IV.
CHAFTEB L
The Moral Nstuie . Tl
CHAFTEB n.
Uoral Law 79
DIVISION V.
The Penan . . . Si
DIVISION VI.
Sight and Wrong ■ ... .IT
DIVISION VII.
MAN CHOOSING.
CHAPTER I.
Alternatives and Law . H
CHAPTER n.
tfickednesa 108
DIVISION vin.
Soucience .111
— • —
PART II.
PRACTICAL.
LOVE AS A LAW-
MAN ACTINO FROM CHOICE DNDEB MOKAI. LAW.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMIKABY STATEMENT.
U>re •■ a Law distinguished from the Law of Love . m
CONTENTS. xvii
CUAFTEK U.
CUuBificBtion of Duties. X23
CJ^ASS I.
ODTIKS TO 0UKSELVK8.
ClaBSification . 127
DIVISION L
Toe Securing of our Rights . ... 127
DIVISION n.
Hie Supply of our Wants ... 129
DIVISION III.
TUB PERI'ECTING OF OUK POWEKB.
CHAPTEK I.
Perfection as related to Direct Action for others : of the Body
of the Mind . . .130
CHAPTER II.
Perfection as related to Unconscious Influence . 143
CHAPTER III.
Perfection as related to Complacency . . . . 145
CHAPTEK IV.
Perfection as related to the glory of God ... 147
CHAPTER V.
"erfection as related to Self-love . . ... 148
CHAPTER VI.
^biU lil*
XVlll CONTENTS.
CLASS n.
DUTIES TO OUK FELLOW-MEN.
PRELIMINAKY.
Belf-love and the Love of others . . . • 155
FIRST GREAT DIVISION.
DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN.
DIVISION I.
DDTIES REGARDING THB EIGHTS OF OTHERS
CHAPTER I.
Of Itights 157
CHAPTER II.
Personal Rights : Life and Liberty . 166
CHAPTER in.
Right to Property . 169
CHAPTER IV.
Right lo Reputation .... 182
CHAPTER V.
Right to Truth ... IRB
DIVISION n.
DUTIES KEGAEDING THE WANTS OF OTHERS
CHAPTER I.
Justice and Benevolence 189
CHAPTER II.
Supply of the Wants of othen ... 194
CONTENTS. XIX
DIVISION in.
PKRFECTINO AND DIKECTINO THB POWERS OF OTBBBS.
CHAPTER I.
Duty o{ Influence from the Relation of Character to Well-being.
— Obstacles to Cliange of Intellectual State and of CharaC'
rer . 198
CHAPTER n.
Hpherea of Ellort: Who may labor in them 308
SECOND GREAT DIVISION.
DUTIKS FROM SPECIAL RELATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
Rights of Persons t Right and Rights : Special Duties : The
FamUy . 810
CHAPTER II.
3orernment: Responsibilitj: Punishment 319
CHAPTER III.
Relation of the Sexes : Chastity . 233
CHAPTER IV.
Rights and Duties in Relation to Marriage 236
CHAPTER V.
The Law of Divorce .... . . 244
CHAPTER VI.
Sights and Duties of Parents and Children . ... 247
CHAPTER VII.
Society and Government; The Sphere of Government: Origin
of Government: Mod* of Formation . . 855
rx CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VUl.
fAttl
OoTemment Representatire and Instrnmental : The Right of
Suffrage . 369
CHAPTER IX.
Venn* of GoTernment : Duties of Magiitntes and Citixeni 884
CLASS nL
DUTIES TO eOD.
CHAPTER I
Dnties to God defined . »1
CHAPTER n.
Cnltivation of a Devotional Spirit 295
CHAPTER in.
Prayer .... Ml
CHAPTER IV.
The Sabbath . .... ... 109
AmiroiT ,...,... tS
INTRODUCTION.
DIFFERENT THE0KIE8.
Morality regards man as active. Hence moral
icience must imply a systematic knowledge of those
powers in man wliicli tend to, or regulate action,
as those powers are related to each other, and to
the objects that excite their action. These powers
are related to each other as a system capable of
harmonious action, and of securing through such
action the highest good of the individual and of the
whole.
Into the conception of a system of active powers
the idea of order, subordination, and of a supreme
controlling power must enter ; and that action of
such a system which would secure the highest good
of the individual and of the whole is right action
Such action must be rational. It presupposes an
end good in itself, and known to be good ; but it
tan be moral only as we have a moral nature
iifBrming obligation to such action.
Of the nature and foundation of moral obliga-
tion which I suppose to be thus affirmed, differenl
2 INTRODUCTION.
accounts have been given. This has arisen in part
from the ambiguity of language, but more from a
partial apprehension and wrong adjustment of the
facts and principles of our complex nature. A
striking fact, as of association, or a powerful princi-
ple, as of self-love or sympathy, is seized upon and
made to account for everything, ft becomes the
centre of a system having in it, perhaps, much tha
is plausible, and much truth in its details, but as a
system wholly false. Such systems are not useless.
They insure a careful examination of the facts
made central ; the incidental truth involved, as in
the treatise of Adam Smith, is often of much value ;
and somethmg is done in limiting and exhausting
the possibilities of error.
And not only are different systems produced from
Different ^^^ above causes, but the moral problem
t^e'^oraf "' '^^^^^^ '^ differently stated. By some it is
problem. made an inquiry concerning the moral
nature ; by some, concerning the nature of virtue ;
by some, concerning the source and nature of right ;
ty some, after an ultimate rule ; and by some, after
Jie nature and foundation, or ground, of obliga-
tion. This last I think preferable. In the fact of
obligation all are agreed. All are agreed that all
mankind are under obligation to do some acts and
to abstain from others. Without obligation there
lan be no morality and no law, and a statement of
the ground and conditions and limitations of obliga-
tion, would be a statement of the tlioory of morals
INTKOUUCTION. 8
As I propose to use the term, a ground of obli-
gation for us must presuppose a moral nature in
us ; and the question what that nature is, is entirely
different from any that may respect the ultimate
ground or reason for its activity. The nature and
■constitution of tlic eye are one thing, the nature
and constitution of light, without wliicli the function
of the eye could not be performed are another.
The eye and light are related to each other, and
each is so indispensable to vision that either might
be said to be at its f .indation. But the questiona
m optics respecting the eye, and those respecting
light, are entirely distinct ; and if the powers of the
eye were regarded by one man as the foundation of
the faculty of sight, and if the properties of light
were so regarded by another, and if, because they
were using the same word, they were to go on
under the delusion that they were treating of the
same thing, it is easy to see the confusion that
must ensue. In the same way the intellect, with
its capacities and laws, is one thing, and truth, the
object of the intellect, is another. Tliese so imply
each other that without truth the intellect could
not act, and either might be said to be the founda-
lion of mental activity. Here, also, there would
be the same confusion if men were to mistake one
for the other, or, without being aware of the transi-
tion, were to apply the same terms to both.
But this is precisely what has happened in specu
lations on morals. Men have sometimes spoken of
4 INTRODUCTION.
the various faculties and powers mvolved in the
moral nature, such as conscience and free will, as
lying at the foundation of obligation; sometimes
they have spoken of that ultimate ground or reason
in view of which alone the moral nature can
legitimately act, and sometimes they have included
both. The fact of this confusion is said bj'- Sir
James Mcintosh to have been a great, and indeed
the main reason of the confusion there has been in
the perplexed speculation? on the subject of morals.
Speaking of the difference k.<^tween the " Theory
of Moral Sentiment," and the " Criterion of Mo-
rality," he says : " The discrimination has seldom
been made by moral philosophers ; the difference
between the two problems has never been uniform-
ly observed by any of them ; and it will appear in
the sequel, that they have been not rarely alto-
gether confounded by very eminent men, to the
destruction of all just conception and of all correct
reasoning in this most important, and perhaps most
difficult, of sciences."
But this confusion will not surprise us if we ob-
serve how the speculations on those different sub-
jects imply and almost necessarily run into each
other. If we would understand optics, we must
understand both the eye and light, and that not
merely as they are in themselves, but as they are
related to each other. If we would understand
moral acience, we must understand both the facul
"iies which act and that in view of which they act
INTRODUCTION. 5
out we must be careful to keep our speculations on
the one subject distinct froTu tlioso on thy other.
If I say that self-interest is the ground of obliga-
tion I mean that it is that in view of which obliga-
tion is affirmed by a moral agent fully constituted.
If, on the other hand, I say that free will is the
ground of obligation, I do not mean that it is that
in view of which obligation is affirmed, but that it
is a power essential to a moi-al agent, a necessary
condition of the affirmation of obligation by such
an agent.
If, again, it be said that self-interest is the ground
of obligation, and we would controvert that, we
need to know wliat otiier possible grounds there
may be ; if there may be what are called a priori
grounds we must know that, and be able to state
them, and this will involve the question of a priori
knowledge and principles of action, and a decision
of some of the highest and most disputed problems
if mental science.
Shall we then regard as the foundation of obliga-
tion those faculties which are necessary The ground
to constitute us moral beings ; or that in ^Lmu^^w
view of which, we being thus constituted, obug^uonn
ubligation is affirmed ? With given facul- ''®™^-
(ics I see a crow flying over my head. In view of
lliat ihct I feel no obligation. With the same
'acuities I see a man in danger of drowning. In
new of that fact I do feel under obligation to aid
nim if I can. Here is a ground of difference, and
8 INTRODUCTION.
of obligation. What is that ground ? Is there anj
ground common to all cases? Without questioning
what others have done, and simply desiring distinct-
ness, I prefer to call that the ground of obligation
in view of which obligation is affirmed. In seeking
for this, however, we shall necessarily be drawn
into an examination of those faculties and mental
products on which moral agency is conditioned, for
it must be remembered that that in view of which
obligation is affirmed may itself, like the idea of
right, be the product of mental agency.
Moral philosophers have indeed been di^nded in-
Dcpendence ^^ ^^'^ classcs, as they havc belonged to
ra Se™tii one or the other of the two great schools
Kionce. q£ mental science that have divided
thinkers from the time of Plato and Aristotle — in
reality, as they have settled in one way or another
the great problem of the origin of knowledge. A
sensationalist, believing that all our knowledge is
from experience, that there ai-e no necessary prin-
ciples, or forms of knowledge given by the mind
tself, can believe in no a priori principles of moral-
ty, and will, almost of course, adopt a low, fluctu-
ating, and selfish system of morals. But one who
finds in the mind itself as well as in the senses a
source of primitive knowledge, given indeed, not
without the senses, but on the occasion of them,
may consistently, and will naturally, look to the
<ame source for the principles, or elements, or prim
tive facts, or ultimate ideas, or ground, or founda-
INTRODUCTION. 1
rion, or whatever he may please to call it, of morals.
Hence, the great battle of scientific morality is to
be fought on the field of mental science.
On this field some, as those who so make the
mind the product of organization as to bring it
under the laws of matter and of necessity, and all,
indeed, wlio deny the fact of liberty, so decide
mental jjroblems as to make morality impossible.
Others necessitate a basis of self-interest, or of
mere sentiment, while others still so solve these
problems as to admit, in some form, of what may
be called a rational system.
Nor, I may remark in passing, need it discourage
those who have not studied mental science formallv,
that moral problems strike their roots so deeply into
that, for on this class of subjects sound judgment is
native to the common mind. It is even true that
where accurate statement is most difficult, intuition
is most certain, and when such statements are maoc
they commend themselves with great readiness to
the common consciousness.
With this view of the ground of obligation and
of the connection of mental with moral varioui
science, we pass to consider some of the ^y*'™'
bystems resjiocting obligation and its ground which
liave been adopted by different philosophers.
Of these the first commonly mentioned, as it waa
the first in point of time among modern pint theory
systems, is that of Hobbes. By him the ^"^^'^
^ound of obligation was found ip the authority 0/
8 INTRODUCTIOS
the Civil Law. According to Hobbes, a regard to
personal advantage is the only possible motive to
iiuman action. " Acknovvledgraent of power ia
called honor." " Pity is the imagination of future
calamity to ourselves." " Laughter is occasioned
by sudden glory in our eminence, or in comparison
with the infirmity of others." " Love is a concep-
tion of his need of the one person desired." " Re-
pentance is regret at having missed the way.''
There are no social affections, no sense of duty, no
moral sentiments. As a desire for liis own pleasure
is supreme in every man, it will follow that the state
of society is naturally pne of war. But as nothing
can so interfere with this supreme desire or end of
man as war, it becomes obligatoiy on men to com-
bine, by an expression of their common will in the
form of law, for the preservation of peace : and as
there is no other possible standard, it follows that
men must bo bound by the behests of law, whatever
they may be.
A system resting on a view of our nature so low
and partial, and thus favorable to arbitrary power,
was not fitted for permanence among a free people,
and had nearly passed from remembrance, except
n the schools, when an attempt was made to revive
it in connection with the enforcement of the fugitive
slave law. This attempt gave rise to the expression
10 prevalent for a time, of " the higher law ; " and
it really seemed at one time that we had a partj
^mong us who denied the existence of any sucl:
law.
INTRODUCTION. fc
Of tliis system it lias been well said, that it must
fiithei' be right to obey the law and wrong to dis-
obey it, or indifferent whether we obey it or not.
ff it be morally indifferent whether we obey it or
not, the law which may or may not be obeyed with
equal virtue cannot be a source of virtue ; and if it
be right to obey it, the very supposition that it is
right implies a notion of right and wrong that is
antecedent to the law, and gives it its moral effi-
cacy.
A second theory of obligation is tliat it is based
on self-interest. second the-
Much might be said to show that this iateioat.
was the system of Paley, whose work was formerly
taught almost universally, both in England and in
this country. Many things in liis book are consis-
tent with this theory only, while others would seem
to imply that of general utility. Probably he did
not discriminate sharply between them.
This system supposes the same low and imperfect
riew of the facts of our nature as is implied in the
^weceding one. It fails to show the distinction
between interest and duty, or \^hy all actions that
are for our interest, as a good bargain, are not vir-
tuous. It ignores or denies the fact of disinterested
iffection, contradicting thus the general conscious-
ness which attributes merit to actions in proportion
us self is forgotten. As that which is the founda-
tion of obligation should be supreme in our regard,
►his svstem would require us to regard self-interesf
to INTRODUCTION
Bupremely, and everything else as subordinate to
that. It would thus be -vsTong to love God su-
premely and our neighbor as ourselves ; and in-
deed any high, or noble, or generous act would,
according to this system, be either impossible or
wrong.
The plausibility of this system arises from ihc
fact that self-interest has its place in one that is
correct ; and also from the fact that men exalt self-
interest so unduly, and do so generally make it
practically the centre of their thoughts and actions.
A third system founds obligation on utility. The
Third sye- assertion is, not only that we are luider
utility. obligation to do those things that are use-
ful, but that their usefulness is the ground of the
obligation.
To set aside this view it is only necessary to
understand the meaning of terms. By a ground of
oblisation we mean the ultimate reason in view of
which it is affirmed. But by its very definition
utility cannot be ultimate. " Some things," says
Sir William Hamilton, " are valuable, finally, or
for themselves — these are ends; other things are
valuable, not on their own account, but as condu-
cive towards certain ulterior ends — these are
means. The value of ends is absolute ; the value
of means is relative. Absolute value is properly
called a good ; relative value is properly called a
atility." Whatever is useful, then, can have value
wily ijs it is related to the end which it may be
INTRODUCTION. 14
used to promote. A plough is useful, but only as
it is related to the value of a crop. Unless there
be ends that have value in themselves, means can
have no value, and so nothing can be useful. But
no one will contend that wo can be under obligation
to choose that as an ultimate and supreme end
which can have no value except as it is related to
an end beyond itself.
The plausibility of this system is from the fact
that we are so often under obligation to choose that
whieh is useful, and from a failure, in doing this, tvi
distinguish tlie ground from a condition of obliga-
tion. The absolute value of an end may be the
ground of obligation to choose it, but we can be
under obligation to choose means only on condition
that they shall be useful in attaining the end. Of
course a system which should place obligation to
choose an end on the ground of an intrinsic value
that should have no end beyond itself, and so no
utility, could not properly be charged with being a
system of utility.
The woi'd utility expresses a relation — a relation
jetween that which is valuable in itself and the
means of obtaining it. A fourth system, Fourth
° ^ intern;
that of Dr. AVayland, bases obligation on wayiiind.
the relations of one being to another. " It is," saya
le, " manifest to every one that we all stand in
various and dissimilar relations to all the sentient
beings, created and uncreated, wita whicli we are
acquainted. Among our relatons to created beings
12 [NTRODUCTION.
lire those of man to man, or that of substantial equal-
ity,of parent and cliilcl,of benefactor and recipient,
of husband and wife, of brother and brother, citizen
and citizen, citizen and magistrate, and a thousand
otliers. Now it seems to me that as soon as a
human being comprehends the relation in which
two human beings stand to each other, there arisee
m his mind a consciousness of moral obligation,
connected by our Creator with the very conception
of the relation."
Here it will be observed that no enumeration
of the relations on which obligation depends is at-
tempted. Some are specified, and there are said to
be " a thousand others." Nor is any attempt made
to show what is common to all these relations in
rirtue of which they are the ground of obligation.
Relations as such cannot be the ground of obliga-
tion. Why must these relations be between sensi-
Uvc beings? Why are not all relations between
sensitive beings, as those of time and space, the
;;round of obligation ? The relative height of two
men, as tall and short, constitutes a relation, but
not a ground of obligation. In themselves relations
nave no value, and aside from the beings related
tliey cannot exist. They cannot be made objects
of choice or grounds of action. There is in them
nothing ultimate. They are simply the occasion or
jonditinn of our apprehending a ground of oblio-a-
tion that lies wholly beyond themselves. It is true
that -vhatever we do we must do in some relation
rNTRODDCTION. 18
and this gives the system its plausibility ; but this
incidental connection of relations with grounds of
action that lie beyond them can never make them
an adequate basis for a moral system.
Analogous to this system of relations are two
others — those of Dr. Samuel Clarke and rifthnna
)f Wollaston. Of these the first founds tmiu'vr.
obligation on the fitness of things ; and the woiiaeton.
second on conformity to truth, or to the true nature
of thinffs. A man owes a debt. It is accordino; to
the fitness of things that he should pay it, and that
fitness is the ground of the obligation. It is true
that there is a difference between a man and a tree,
and on the ground of this difference there is an
obligation to treat them differently. Not to do so
would be acting a lie, and so, according to Wol-
laston, all immorality is an acted lie.
Of these systems it is to be said that both fitness
and truth, as that is here used, express, not any-
thing ultimate, but only a relation. Between the
fact of the debt and its payment there is a fitness,
but it is not on the ground of its fitness that the
payment is to be made. The fitness has no value
in itself, and could exist only as the debt has value
in some relation to an ulterior good. If there were
no good of any kind to be gained by the payment
of the debt — no satisfaction of any sentiment —
there would be no fitness in paying it. So of
truth. It is true that there is a difference between
» man and a tree, and tha^ th"y are to be treated
14 INTROUCCTJON.
differently, not however on the ground of tlie truth,
wliich lias value only for what it indicates beyond
itself, but because a man is capable of a rationa
good and a tree is not.
It is to be said, also, that both fitness and truth
aie terms quite too broad to be used accurately as
the basis of a system, since there is a large class of
fitnesses and of truths that have no relation to
morals. To use a pen for writing is according to
the fitness of things, and is a practical affirmation
of the truth that the pen was made for that, but
there may be in it nothing moral. Besides, there
is as much fitness in an immoral act to produce evil
as there is in a moral act to produce good, and it is
as much according to the true nature of things that
it should produce evil. It cannot, therefore, be
either the fitness or the truth on which the ob-
ligation depends.
The plausibility of these systems is from the fact
that all obligatory acts are in accordance both with
the fitness and with the true nature of things,
though these are not the foundation of the obliga-
tion to do them.
Another system of the same class is that of
Beventh Jouffi'oy, whicli makcs order the basis of
► ,.<lem; . .
jouffroy obligation. This was mentioned by me
■n my former volume, and I have nothing to add tc
what was then said. Order may be affirmed of
mere physical being, in wliich there can bo nothing
moral. It expresses a relation, and nothing ultimate.
INTRODUOTION. 15
ft can never be chosen for its own sake. Beings
may place themselves in order for tlie sake of an
end beyond, but not for the order itself. At least,
such order cannot be obligatoiy. It would be ab'
surd for an army to preserve the order of its march
if that would insure its destruction. The order of
an army is for its safety and efficiency, and can be
obligatory on no other ground. The same jirinci-
ple applies in all cases of order. It can never be
80 valuable as to become obligatory, except as sub-
servient to an end beyond itself.
From several passages in Jouffroy it would appeal
that he identified the order of the universe with its
md. Doing this, we can readily see how he might
have adopted the system, but to do it is simply an
abuse of terms. Order cannot be the end of the
universe. That niust be some good of the beings
tliat coni]i()se the universe, which may or maj not
be attained by means of order.
According to an eighth system, the will of God
IS tlie eround of obligation. We are, it Eighth bj*
I'S said, under obligation to do whatever ofOod.
He commands, simply because He commands it.
I'liilosophically this is the same doctrine as that
n{ Hobbes, who referred everything to the will of
tlie lawgiver, or of the law-making power, regarded
sim]ily as will, and accompanii'd by power. The
question is, whether the wUl of any being, regarded
iunply as will and without reference to the ends
>hosen, can be the ground of obligation. It is true
It) INTUODUCTION.
that tlie will of God is an infalliblo rule, and that
we are to do unhesitatingly whatever He- com-
mands. It is true, also, that this can be said of no
other will, whether of an individual or of any num-
ber of individuals however organized. It is tliia
fact, that the will of God is to be always and in.-
plicitly obeyed, that gives the system now in ques-
tion its plausibility. But are we to obey his will
simply because it is his will ? or from faith, that is,
because we have adequate ground for implicit con-
fidence in Him that his will will always be deter-
mined by wisdom and goodness ? It is precisely
here that faith comes in. God commands that for
which we can see no good reason except that He
commands it. He may even command that whioli,
aside fi-om his will, shall seem opposed to all our
apprehensions of what is right and best. This ren-
ders faith possible, and furnishes it with a distinct
field for its conflicts and triumphs. But if his will,
simply as vs'ill, be the ground of obligation, then
faith is impossible, and that great bond and actu-
ating principle of the social universe is annihilated.
On this supposition all the acts of God would be
equally right by a natural necessity, and the appeal
of Abraham to God, " Shall not the Judge of ail
the earth do right ? " was absurd.
Again, there is nothing ultimate in will whether
regarded as choice or as volition. In either case
'\e distinguish between the act and the object
The act is for the sake of the object, and can nevei
06 an end or object of choice for itself.
INTRODUCTION. 17
Once more, on this supposition inoi-al science is im-
possible. Science supposes uniformity and grounds
of certainty. These may be found in those grounds
of action which ouglit to influence a free being, but
never in the acts of such a being. The ground of
our confidence that a free being will pursue a given
course must be faith, and not science.
This system has been strangely adopted under
the impression that it honors God. It renders it
impossible that He should be honored.
The next system we shall consider is that of those
who say that right is the foundation of ninth Bys-
obligation. According to this, we are to do '"^ ' "*'''■
right for the sake of the right. This is, perhaps,
the prevalent theory at the present time.
On the face of it, nothing could seem simpler than
this theoi'y ; but the ambiguities of the word right
have produced confusion. If we take right as an
adjective expressing the quality of an action, and
opposed to wrong, it is obvious that it cannot be the
ground of obligation, because it expresses nothing
ultimate, but only a relation. Used thus, the only
conceivable meaning of the word right is either con-
formity to a standard or rule, or fitness to attain an
end. So it is commonly used by moralists. " Right,"
says Pale}^ " means no more than conformity to
the rule we go by, whatever that may be." " The
adjective right," says Whewell, " means conforni-
\h\e to a rule." He who solves a sua according tc
18 INTRODUCTION.
R rule does it right. In this sense simple riglitncsa
does not even involve a moral quality, and so cannot
be the foundation of obligation. Whence then
comes the moral quality ? Here is a right act that
has no moi-al quality. Here is another morally
right. Whence the difference ? This can be only
from something in the rule, or standard, or end that
lies beyond the act ; and if tlie moral quality come
from one or the other of these, the obligation must
also. But whatever may be the origin of the moral
quality in an action morally right, it is plain that
the quality of an action can never be the ground oi
an obligation to do that action. Look at this. A
man docs a wrong action ; he steals. He does not
do this for the sake of the quality of the action —
its \'\rongness ; but for the end that lies beyona the
action. A man does a right action ; he gives money
in charity. He does not do this for the sake of the
rightness of the action, but to relieve a case of dis-
tress. If he were to do it for the sake of the riaht-
ness of the act, the act would not be right. Think
3f a man's doing good to another, not from good
will, but for the sake of the rightness of his own act.
Tliink of liis loving God for the same reason ! Cer-
tainly, if we regard right as the quality of an action,
110 man can be under obligation to do an act morally
right for which there is not a reason besides its
being right, and on the ground of w liich it is right.
That reason, tlien, whatever it may be, and not the
rightness, must be the ground of the obligation.
INTKODUCTION. IS
But arc we not under obligation to do what is
morally right? Certainly, always. So are we
always under obligation to do what is according to
the fitness of things, and the truth of things, and the
flfill of God ; but these are not the ground of the
obligation, and the quality of right in an action
neither is, nor can be, the ground of the obligation
to do it.
Is there, then, in morals a right which is not the
quality of an action ? Yes ; a man has rights. He
has a right to life and liberty. Here the word right
is used as a substantive, and means a' just claim.
This we understand, and the ground of it will be
investigated hereafter, but it has no relation to our
present subject.
Is there still another sense of the word right?
This is claimed, and in this too it is used as a sub-
stantive, and with the article prefixed — "the
right." Can we here, as before, gain definite
notions ? I fear not. " The term right," says Dr.
Haven, in his excellent and popular work, — and he
represents a large class of writers, — " expresses a
simple and ultimate idea ; it is therefore incapable of
analysis and definition." "It expresses an eternal
and immutable distinction, iiiherent in the nature oi
things." And not only right, but wrong is also
>uch an idea, for he says, " Right and wrong are
distinctions immutable and inherent in the nature oj
things. They are not the creations of expediency
■jor of law; nor yet do thev originate in tin; divine
20 liJl'KOUUUTlON.
character. Tlicy have 710 origin. They are eter-
nal as the throne of Deity ; they are immutable aa
God himself. Nay, were God liimself to change,
these distinctions would change not. Omnipotence
has no power over them, whether to create or to
destroy. Law does not make them, but they make
law. They are the source and spring of all law and
all obligation." ^
I am of those who believe that there are simple
and ultimate ideas. Tliat of existence, or being, is
one. All men have, and must have an idea of
sonietliing, of themselves, as existing. Here we
have the idea, and something actual which corre-
sponds to it ; and I understand what is meant when
It is said that existence, being, — not the idea, but tlie
thing, — had no origin, and that it maj' be the source
of law. Is then tlie idea of ritrht such an idea ?
Is there anything corresponding to the idea, but
different from it, that has existed from eternity ?
Is it like space, of which we might plausibly say
tliat it existed independently of God and of all
creatures, so that if they were withdrawn the
eternal right would still exist? Is this true also of
wrong ? If so, we might well, as some do, put
riglit above God, and wrong too. This seems to be
claimed, but cannot be, for we are told that " right
and wrong are distinctions," not things, but " dis-
tinctions imnuitable and inherent in the nature of
tilings." But wliat tilings ? We are told again
1 Moral Philosophy, p. 47.
INTRODUCTION 21
" When we speak of things and the nature of things,
as applicable to this discussion, we do not of course
rolcr to material objects, nor yet to spiritual intelli-
|i;ences, but to the actions and moral conduct of intel-
ligent beings, created or uncreated, finite or in-
finite." Here, then, we have moral action wliicli is
eternal and has no origin ; for if tlie distinctions be
eternal, inhering in the nature of things, the things
themselves in which they inhere must also be
eternal. But further, if these eternal distinctions
inhere in these eternal actions, what is this but to
make them qualities of the actions, which, as we
have already shown, would preclude the possibility
of their being the ground of obligation to do the
actions. We have also distinctions in moral actions
— actions, observe, already moral, — which are " the
spring of all law and all obligation." But is this
what the author really means ? Probably not, for he
immediately adds, " We mean to say, that such and
such acts of an intelligent voluntary agent, whoever
he may be, are, in their very nature, right or
wrong." This is quite different from the proposi-
tions with which we have been dealing. It simply
amounts to saying that certain acts, not eternal, but
Buch as you and I may do, are right or wrong, and
that no reason can be given for it, except that they
lire so. Now I believe, and that, I suppose, is the
real difference between us, the point on which this
whole question turns, that when an action is right
i>r wrong a reason can always be given why it is so,
22 INTUODCCTION.
»nd that in tliat reason the ground of the obligation
IS to be foxind. We are never to do, or to intend
to do right for the sake of the right, but we are tc
intend to do that, the doing of which is right, for
the sake of tliat which makes it right.
The analogy is often insisted on, it is by Dr.
Haven, between mathematical and moral ideas.
Mathematical ideas and truths, it is said, are neces-
sary and eternal. But how ? Is it meant that
either ideas or truths can exist except in some
mind? Is it meant that mathematical ideas are
any more eternal in the divine mind than any other
ideas that are there ? Is anything more meant
than that, by the very nature of intelligence it is
necessitated, if it act at all as intelligence, to form
certain ideas, and also to assent to certain proposi-
tions as soon as it understands them ? If this be
all, and it could be so understood, it would sweep
a«ay much \ague, not to say unintelligible phrase-
ology. Certainly it enters into our conception of
an intelligent being that he must have certain ideas,
and into our conception of a moral being that lie
must have a knowledge of moral distinctions ; and
if we suppose an intelligent and moral being to have
existed eternally, we must also suppose, according to
our inadequate mode of thinking on subjects invol-
ving the infinite, that certain intellectual and moral
ideas have also been eternal, though in the order of
nature the being must have been before the ideas,
But this does not make these ideas in any sense iii-
INTRODUCTIOlSr. 23
dependent of God, or above him, or a fountain of
law, or of anything else. It simply enables us to
think of God as having always existed, and as hav-
ing always had M-ithin himself the conditions of in-
telligent, moral, and independent activity, so that
he might himself, in his own intelligence and wis
dom, become the fountain of all law.
When, as in the present case, the existence of a
simple and ultimate idea is claimed, the appeal must
be directly to consciousness. On this ground one
may assert, and another deny ; and there is nothing
more to be said. Neither argument nor testimony ■
can avail anything. We can only so appeal to the
general consciousness by applying tests as to show
what that consciousness really is.
This system will be referred to again. It is
plausible, because every action that is obligatory is
also right, as it is also fit, and according to the
divine will.
The only other system of which I shall speak is
tliat of Dr. Hickok. According to him a reason
can be given why a thing is right. " The highest
good," he says — and in this I agree with him —
" must be the ground in which the ultimate rule
shall reveal itself" This is a great point gained.
It concedes that right is dependent upon good of
Bome kind, that is, tliat a reason can always be given
why a thing is right ; and it only remains to inquire
what that good is.
But here, if I understand hitn rightly, I am still
compelled to differ from my able and highly
24 INTRODUCTION.
Bsteemed cotemporary. That good we are told in
" the highest good," " the summum honum." What
then is that ? Says Dr. Hickok, " The highest
good, the summum honum, is worthiness of spiritual
appi'obation." By this, it would seem, must be
meant worthiness of approbation on the ground of
the acts, or states, of our own spirits. The doctrine
then will be, that the ultimate ground or reason
why a man should do a charitable act is not at all
the good of the person relieved for the sake of thai
good, but that he may preserve or place his spirit iv
such a state as shall be worthy of his own approba-
tion. This is stated most explicitly. " Solely,"
says Dr. Hickok, " that I may stand in my own
sight as worthy of my own spiritual approbation, is
the one motive which can influence to pure moral-
ity, and in the complete control of which is the
essence of all virtue." ^
To those aware of the endless disputes of the
Rncients respecting " the summum honum" further
progress may seem hopeless if we must first decide
wliat tliat is ; but it will be sufficient for our present
purpose if we decide the province within which it
is. By " the summum honum " is generally meant
the greatest good of the individual. That, it would
ueem, must be meant here, because worthiness of
approbation can belong only to tjie individual, and
uan be directly sought by the individual only for
himself. But if this be meant, then the " summurr
honum" and the end for which man was madp, are
> Moral Science^ p. 60
INTRODUCTION. 25
.lot the same. Man was not made to find the ulti-
mate ground of his action in any subjective state of
his own, of whatever kind. He was made to pro-
mote the good of others as well as his own, and the
apprehension of that good furnishes an immediate
ground of obligation to promote it. The good of
the individual is too narrow a basis to be the ground
of obligation ; and besides, it is not in accordance
with our consciousness to say, when we are laboring
for the good of others, that the ultimate and real
thing we are seeking is our own worthiness of
approbation.
But again, tlie man is worthy of approbation only
as he is virtuous. It is virtue in him that we
approve. But virtue is a voluntary state of mind,
and that can never be chosen as an ultimate end.
By necessity all choice and volition respect an end
Deyond themselves. But the ground of obligation,
as we now seek it, is that ultimate end in view of
which the will should act. As ultimate, the reason
of the choice must be in the thing chosen, and not
in the clioosing. It is therefore impossible that any
form, or quality, or characteristic of choice, any
virtue, or goodness, or holiness should be the ground
of obligation to choose. The same thing is to be said
of law in every form, and for the same reason.
Law can never be ultimate.
•In tliis case, as in most of the others, a rule may
be drawn from that wliich is assumed as the gi'ound
©f obligation, because no man can be under obliga-
26 INTRODDCTIOIT.
tion to do anything that is not in accordance with
his highest worthiness. This may be a criterion
or test, just as the will of God or fitness is, of what
he ought to do, but never a ground of the obligation
to do it.
Is it asked, then, what is your own system ? T'
Im implied in the opening remarks of the chapter, i
very siniple, and can be stated in few words.
In seeking the foundation of obligation, I suppose
moral beings to exist. As having intelligence and
sensibility I suppose them capable of apprehending
ends good in themselves, and an end thus good that
is both ultimate and supreme. In the apprehension
of such an end I suppose the moral reason must
affirm obligation to choose it, and that all acts that
will, of their own nature, lead to the attainment of
this end, are right.
This puts man, as having reason, into relation to
his end in the same way that the brutes, as having
instinct, are put into relation to their end, and gives
us a philosoi)hy in accord with other philosophies of
radical life. What is the philosophy of the eye ?
ft consists in a knowledge of its structure and use,
or end ; and fi-om these, and these only, can rational
■ules be drawn for the right use of the eye when
well, or for its treatment when diseased. Knowing
tlicse, we know how we ought to use the eye. We
know the ground of our obligation in reference to
it. It is so to use it that the end of the eye may be
Host perfectly attained. So we ought to use the
INTRODUCTION. 27
eye, and the ground of our obligation is the fact
that the eye has relation to an end that has value in
itself. If it had not, we could be under no such
obligation. The same is true of evei^r part of the
body, and of every faculty of the mind. And if
true of these, why not of the man himself? Has
he an end valuable for its own sake ? If not, what
is he good for ? But if he have such an end, why
not, as in case of the eye, find in this end the
reason of all use of himself, that is, of all rules of
conduct, and also the ground of obligation ? Can
there be anything higher or better than that a man
ihould propose to himself and choose the attainment
jr advancement of the very end for which God
made him ? What more can God ask of him —
•r man? What more can he wish for himself?
PART 1.
THEORETICAL.
THE LAW OF LOVE.
KAN CHOOSING UNDER MORAL LAW
DEFINITION, AND PRELIMINARY STATEMENTS.
Moral Philosophy, Ethics, Moral Science, is
the science of man, choosing, and acting from
choice, under Moral Law.
This definition covers the whole field of inoial
action — duties to be done, rights to be around cor-
respected and maintained, actions mor definition
ally bad, as well as those morally good. It goes
back of conduct to those choices from which con-
duct proceeds, and limits the field of moral actiou
to such choices and actions from choice as are un-
der Moral Law. The definition also recognizes
the acknowledged dependence of Moral upon Men-
tal Science.
Of other definitions the following may bo
ftdded : —
" That science which teaches men their duty
and the reasons of it." — Paley.
" The science of Moral Law." — Way land.
" The systematic application of the ultimate
rule of right to all conceptions of moral con-
duct." — lEckok.
" The science of obligation or duty." — Preei-
icnt t'airchild.
32 MORAL SCIENCE.
In former editions, the science was defined aa
that which teaches men their supreme end, and
how to attain it. In this, the moral element was
assumed.
In accordance with the above definition we need
, . . . , first, to know Man in all that is reqni-
lilTision of ' ^ ^ 1
wbject con- gj|-g j^g ^ condition to his choosing under
f -tquent on o
/.finition Moral Law.
(2.) We need to know bim as choosing under
Moral Law.
These two give us Theoretical Morals.
(3.) We need to know man as acting from
ihoice under Moral Law.
This gives us Practical Morals. We thus have
the division of our subject.
What, then, does man need as prerequisite to
his choosing under Moral Law ?
Since moral science is rational as well as moral,
choosing within it must presuppose the intellect
for insight and comprehension ; since it regards
man as active, and only as active, it must pre-
suppose the sensibility for motive, and t)ie will
for choice and volition ; and since he is to act un-
der moral law, it must presuppose a moral nature
to give moral ideas, and through which moviil
law may be revealed. We can no more have
moral science without a moral nature and moral
ideas originally given, than we can have intellect-
ual science without an intellectual nature, and
intellectual ideas originally given. As moral sci
PRELIMINARY STATEJIENTS. 33
ence is thus the outcome of the whole being, it
can be conceived of only through the joint action
of the intellect, the sensibility, the will, and the
moral nature, and must therefore suppose man
fully constituted as a Person. It has persons onij
nothing to do with things, or with the o£the''^°°'
nature of things, but only with persons, soienco.
nor has it anything to do with them except aa
they choose and act from choice.
Of the above, the intellect, the sensibility,
the will, and the moral nature, each is Personality
essential to personality. They do not piei.
constitute it as if the person were compounded of
these, and so complex. They are, rather, different
forms in which the one indivisible person is mani-
fested. Nor is the moral nature anything differ-
ent from intellect sensibility and will. It is the
necessary manifestation of a personality that in-
cludes the three.
From man as thus constituted we have three
sciences. From the intellect simply. Three «ci-
we have intellectual science including ™'^''
logic. From the intellect and sensibility combined,
we have aesthetic science, involving intellect and
feeling, but not action ; and from the intellect,
the sensibility, the will, and the moral nature com-
bined, we have moral science. This is more com
plex, and so more diiScult. It involves, and is
intended to control, the whole nature except that
which is purely organic and spontaneous.
3
DIVISION I.
THE INTELLECT.
In examining, then, the constituents of our be
ing as they are related to choice, the first to be
noticed is The Intellect.
Of this, the bearing upon choice is indirect.
Indirectly Pure intellect cannot be a motive. For
related to , . -i.t
choice. that, some element from the sensibility
must come in. The office of the intellect is to
know what is, to judge of agreements or disagree-
ments, to comprehend relations, and to furnisli
Underlies tliosc idcas by which we become rational,
choice. Without the intellect the ideas of a good,
and of moral obligation, which underlie moral sci-
ence, could not be formed ; but no knowledge of
what is, or judgment of any kind, or idea from
the pure intellect, can furnish a motive, or have
authority. Knowing, comparing, comprehending,
having ideas, as of obligation, formed by the joinc
action of the three great constituents of our being,
and being free, our active principles hold a differ-
ent relation to us from that which the instincts of
the brutes hold to them. They are impelled di
rectly by instinct, that is, by an impulse to action
INTELLECT. 35
without comprehending its end, and have no
alternative in kind. We are free to choose be-
tween principles of action comprehending their
end, and have an alternative in kind. Thus it is
that, through the intellect, choice, and action
from choice, which is conduct, become the choice
and conduct of a rational, and so of a moral, being.
Thus it is that in moral science the intellect is not
only essential for the knowing of the science, but
as aiding to furnish apportion of its elements.
DIVISION II.
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER I.
THE SENSIBILITY IN GENERAL.
By the sensibility we feel. All feeling is the
iBttiUeeiing product of the sensibility and, as we
lensibiiityT ho\d, feeling is the concomitant of every
form of conscious activity. That all knowing
is by the intellect, and all choice and volition by
tlie will, is conceded. Is it also conceded that all
feeling is from the sensibility? This may be
doubted.
The sensibility is of great diversity, and it is
conceded that the desires, the affections, the emo-
tions, the passions, are forms of it. But in addi
tion to these there is feeling connected with the
activity of the intellect and of the will that is
simply the outgrowth or reflex of that activity.
Through the intellect we have the enjoyment
joncomitaiit that comcs from the pursuit and the ao
»f intellect- ... i ri-ii .
ani activity, quisitiou 01 truth. iJiis enjoyment u
the reflex of the activity of the intellect, and is in
THE SENSIBILITY IN GENERAL. 37
separably connected with it. It belongs to man
as rational, is of a quality peculiar to itself, and
can be had in no other way. Is it from the sen-
sibility or from the intellect,? If the threefold
division of the faculties is to be made thorough-
going, it must be from the sensibility. That we
have a satisfaction in the very act of knowing no
one can doubt ; but if this satisfaction be not from
the sensibility, it ivill follow that the sensibility is
not distinctively the organ of feeling.
We have also, involved in the activity of the
will when it acts in accordance with the wiu— »c-
raoral nature, and inseparable from it, a *'""'"''•
satisfaction that is still higher and more intense.
Virtue is from the will as knowledge is from the
intellect. Shall wo say then that that satisfaction
from virtue which is the reflex of the activity of
the will, is from the will, or from the sensibility ?
The latter is our only consistent course. If we
are to have a sensibility at all, and define it to be
the faculty of feeling, it would seem unreasonable
not to refer to it one of the highest forms of feel-
ing we have.
Accepting then in full the threefold division of
the powers, we say, that all knowledge is from
the intellect, all feeling from the sensibility, and
all choice and conduct from the will. And say
ing this, we see what is meant when we pa„,at of
Bay that we do an act for its own sake, forlli'j^
This is often said, and men are exhorted "'"■
• 8 MORAL SCIENCE.
to pursue knowledge, not for any utility con-
nected with it, but for its own sake. Certainly
knowledge may be pursued for the sake of an end
beyond itself, as money, or fame. It may also be
pursued with no thought of anything beyond the
knowledge itself, and the satisfaction involved in
its pursuit and attainment. It is then said to be
pursued for its own sake, and the activity of mind
in thus pursuing it is thought to be of a higher
order. But would the knowledge be pursued if
there were not this satisfaction ? Clearly not.
Of course there can be no activity in the first in-
stance, because of the reflex of that activity. As
in all our active principles, a spontaneous tend-
ency is presupposed ; but if there were no satis-
faction as the result of the activity, it would not
be continued.
And what is thus true of knowledge must be
true also of virtue. Whatever the ob-
OfTlrtue. . ... ...
ject of choice may be, it is conceded
that virtue consists in an act of the will, and
that there is involved in this act an inseparable
reflex action by which a satisfaction of the high
est kind comes to the virtuous person. It is a
consciousness of this satisfaction that I suppose
tu be identified with the act itself so as to form
a part of it by those who say that they do th«
act for its own sake. As the act is voluntary
whatever tlie original impulse or motive may
luive been, if it were Itnown that it neither dia
THE SENSIBILITY IN GENERAL. 39
nor could result in the good of the agent him-
self or of any one else, it could not be ration-
ally continued.
From what has been said it will follow that
there is no act of the will that is not au motives
preceded, prompted, and accompanied Bcnaibiiuy.
by some state of the sensibility. All motives are
from that. This is generally admitted. What
we call rational motives are not from reason di-
rectly; but are those which are shown by reason
>o be superior to others with which they are com-
pared. With no desires or affections, no enjoy-
ment or suffering, all of which are forms of the
sensibility, there could be no choice, no volition,
no voluntary action. But since moral action
must be voluntary, it follows that there can be no
moral action without a sensibility.
And not only is moral action thus impossible
without a sensibility, but so also are jforai ideas
nini-al ideas. Except on the condition ^""feeMr.'*
of beings who can enjoy and suffer, there '"'''^'
can be no benevolence, no justice or injustice, no
rights and no obligation, no right or wrong, and
no moral law.
Hence, again, as the existence of beings having
a scnsibilitv, and motives from that, is Moral ideas
^ , relate solely
a prerequisite to moral ideas, so those to persons.
ideas can have no such relation to the nature of
things as have those of space, and time, and math-
ematics, but only to the nature of persons, and of
40 MORAL SCIENCE.
these as capable of enjoyment and suEferiug, wo
Bhall then have to deal, not solely with the prod-
ucts of pure intellect, but with those of the in-
tellect, the sensibility, and will, combined. These
lie in a different field and are of a dLSerent order.
CHAPTER n.
A GOOD.
Undeestajjtding thus the relation of the Sen-
aibility to moral ideas and moral action, we pass
to the fundamental product given by it when act-
ing normally. This is a good.
Of the word good, the ambiguities have led to
80 much confusion, that we cannot be too careful
respecting it. By a good., I mean some result in
a sensibility that has value in itself. This may
be my own or that of another, but it must be
known as having value in itself, or it cannot be a
good.
What then has value in itself ? Nothing exter-
nal can have — nothing that is not subjective, and
so the product of some activity within the being
whose the good is. Not the activity is a good,
but its result. Food, clothing, houses, lands, have
.10 value except as they are related to some want,
— want lying wholly within the sensibility. To a
disembodied spirit they could have no value. So
of the products of art and of natural scenery. If
there were no feeling of admiration, none of
beauty or sublimity, they would have no value.
12 MORAL SCIENCE.
So again of approbation, however exprebseO. If
there were no result in a sensibility we should be
affected neither by approbation nor disapproba-
tion. There could be no reward or punishment,
and so no government.
We conclude then that a good is that which has
A good uiti- value in itself, for its own sake, and that
mate for the ^ . i j i i •
lensibiiity. such good IS to be lound only in some
result in a sensibility. This will be ultimate for
the sensibility as truth is for the intellect. Con-
cerning this, the question cannot be asked, What
is it good for ? It is good for nothing beyond it-
self. It has no utility. It is simply a good.
As known by us, this good is the joint product
of the sensibility and of the intellect. In its es-
sence it is from the sensibility, but there must be
intellect, that it may be comprehended in its idea
as universally valuable, and to be chosen for its
own sake. As thus known, we can not only choose
it for ourselves and put forth efforts for its attain-
ment, but can choose it for others and put forth
efforts for its attainment by them. That which
prompts the choice is the intrinsic value of the
good ; that which prompts the effort is the desire
to attain it for ourselves, or that it may be at-
tained by others.
As, then, a good is alvays subjective, it must
Quality and be the result of some activity by, oi
quantity of , .,..,,
toed Within, the individual, and such gooi
will differ both in quality and in quantity, accord
A GOOD. 43
ing to the source and degree of the activity. The
quality will be high or low, as the powers or sus-
ceptibilities in action are high or low ; and, within
limits, the quantity will be as the degree of the
activity. In quality, such good may pass from
the lowest animal gratification to the highest
forms of happiness, joy, blessedness ; in quantity,
it will be limited only by the capability of the
being to sustain the activity without injury.
When a good is thus spoken of, the word good
is used as a noun, and it would be well if
the sense here given could be uniformly ^
adhered to, but it is not. When " the true, the
beautiful, and the good," are spoken of, " the
good " evidently means goodness. So also " moral
good " is constantly used by eminent writers to
signify goodness, whereas I mean by moral good
the satisfaction that is inseparably connected with
that form of activity which we call goodness, and
think that any other use of the phrase must lead
to confusion.
If what has now been said of the word good,
used as a noun, be accepted, we shall jheadjec-
readily see what its meaning as an ad- '■'™boo'»-
jective must be. Nothing will be good except as
it is directly or indirectly, voluntarily or invol-
untarily promotive of a good. This is obviously
ti-ue of mere things whether beautiful or useful.
If there be any thing which never has ministered
or can minister to a good as above defined, that
44 MORAL SCIENCE.
thing is good for nothing. The value of such
things is wholly relative, and is in proportion to
their adaption thus to minister.
In the same way, substantially, the adjective
good is applied to persons. A person is good who
ministers voluntarily to the good of others. Such
a person has goodness in its only proper, or at
least, in its highest sense. In its proper sense
goodness is a fixed purpose and disposition to min-
ister to the good of others, and moral good is the
satisfaction inseparably connected with such min-
istration. To this satisfaction, the term " blessed,"
involving blessedness, was applied by our Saviour
when he said, " It is more blessed to give than
to receive."
If the above be correct, it will follow that
neither knowledge as from the intellect solely,
nor virtue as from the will, is a good. As has
been said, from the activity involved in each
there is a satisfaction high and peculiar, and that
can be had in no other way, but this is propeily
from a pervading sensibility, as pervading as con-
sciousness, and not from intellect and will regarded
simply as powers of knowing and of willing. The
good from virtue with the hope it embosoms is
such that it may rationally sustain a man against
all the might of nature. It is such as to make a
true martyrdom possible, but the good is one thing
and the virtue another. They are as distinct ai
the fragrance and the flower.
CHAPTER III.
DBBTERENT KINDS OF ACTIVITY DETBRMINTNQ
THE QUALITY OF THE GOOD.
Since, as we have seen, the kind of activity de-
termines the quality of the good, we next need to
know what the different kiirds of activity are. Of
these there is a general division as the activity
originates from without or from within, Sunceptibii-
from the susceptibilities or the powers, powers.
These words, susceptibilities and powers, point to
a distinction that runs through our whole frame,
physical and mental.
In our physical constitution there is a double
set of nerves, the afferent and the efferent, like
the double track of a railway terminating in a
metropolis. Provision is thus made for action
upon us from without inward, which terminates in
sensation, and for action by us from within out-
Wards, which originates in choice and volition.
We are thus acted upon and we act ; we receive
and we give. We receive first, and as a condition
of giving, and there is a good in that; Giving m,j
we also give, and in that tl)ere is a "="""«•
higher good, for " it is more blessed to give than
46 MORAL SCIENCE.
to receive." Universally it may be said that ac-
tivity from within, and its consequent good, is of
a higher order than that from without, and the
good from that. The application of terms here is
not uniform, but in general it may be said tbat
through the susceptibilities, the passivities, the
movement from without inward, we have pleas'
Pleasure "^'^ J ^""l that, through the activities,
indjoy ^jjg choices, the volitions, the movement
from within outward, we have joy, happiness,
blessedness. And as these forms of good are dif-
fei-ent in their origin, so are they in their quality.
By the one we are allied to the animals, by the
other to the angels, being made through the power
of rational activity and affection but little lower
than they. For the one we are dependent on cir-
cumstances, for the other on choice.
And here it may be remarked that it is in this
Two direc- divislou of our ufiture, and of the kinds
ictivity. of good, that we find the two great direc-
cicms of human activity. The prevalent tendency
of men Is to remain in indolent passivity, enjoying
the good there is in impressions from without, or,
if they act, doing so for the sake of those impres-
sions. Business men seek to surround themselves
with the means of such impressions and of such
good, and then retire. But the good that comes
thus, wanes, in part by habit, and in part by de-
cay of the organization. The deepest want is stil.
aninet, ajid the jjurest remains. It was of such
QUALITY OF GOOD. 47
good that Solomon said " it is vanity ; " it was of
such good that Mohammed constituted his Para-
dise. But it is possible for man to subordinate
passive impressions and the pleasures from them
to some form of the activities. He may thus be-
come a curse or a blessing. He may ravage a con-
tinent through ambition, or may build up the
spirit in greater efficiency for benevolent and holy
activity. In doing this he will enter upon an up-
ward and ever brightening path. In such activ-
ity with its appropriate surroundings is the essen-
tial idea of the Christian heaven.
Of the good originated by movement from with-
out there are varieties and gradations. Pleasui-es
are higher and lower. And then there is an in-
termediate region of art, sensuous, but ^„ intenno-
not sensual, and in which high forms <*'»■'" '«««>"•
of activity are blended with impressions from
without. These, however, we need not here no-
tice, but proceed to consider what are distinctively
the active principles of our nature and the good
from them.
Active principles are indirectly known through
their solicitations and promptings. The ji„ti„ ^^^,
principles themselves are that in our l^^'l^*
constitution by which the solicitations, '"""™-
or cravings, or promptings occur when the occa-
sion is given. They are not mere capacities, as
the combustibility of wood, but are those in-
stinctive tendencies towards the objects needed
for our well-being which are the condition of ex-
18 MOKAL SCIENCE.
perience, or of any action at all. They suppose
Bomething outside of themselves in view of which
they are originally called into spontaneous actioii
with no knowledge by the person of the result.
Perhaps the wisdom and beneficence of God are
nowhere more distinctly shown in our constitu-
tion than at this point. The body needs nourish-
ment, and there is a principle placed in it by
which there is a direct correspondence between
the body of an infant and the mUk drawn from its
mother's breast. This principle abides and gives
occasion to the appetite when the milk is needed.
In consequence of this the appetite goes out spon-
taneously, or, as some would say, instinctively,
towards its object, and the result is found to be
in this and in all analogous cases, a good either
to the individual alone, or to both the individual
and to others.
But for such an immediate correspondence be-
tween the constitution and something without
there could be no original movement, and such
movement is said to be for the sake of the object.
It is in view of that, but not for that. These
principles, whether physical or mental, reveal
themselves both in attractions and repulsions, in
affinities and aversions, and it might as truly be
said of the aversions as of the attractions that
they are for the sake of the object. No, they
are not for that, but for the good of the being
himself and of others. They were intended by
fiod f(ir tliat, and when the individual comes to
QUALITY OF GOOD. 49
take himself under his own guidance he is bound
to control all such principles, however they may re-
veal themselves, for the same end. In themselves,
so far as they are purely spontaneous, these prin-
ciples have no moral character. As de- Nomoai
signed by God, they may have for their «*>»"«"•'•
object our own good or the good of others, but
they are neither selfish nor benevolent. Moral
character is shown in their control.
As differently manifested the principles that
lead to action, called by Stewart active citLtM-
principles, may be classified. They may ""'""•
too, like the forces of nature, the functions of the
body, and the mental powers, be arranged as lower
and higher on the principle of the conditioning
and the conditioned. By Stewart, in his treatise
on the active powers, they are classified as the
Appetites, the Desires, the Affections, Self-love,
and the Moral faculty. He tlms makes the com-
mon mistake of placing the moral faculty in tlie
same relation to action as the rest and giving it an
obiect of its own.
The following arrangement of these principles
that have corresponding objects I think prefer-
iible : —
Iforal A&ctions, Impulsive after choice.
s5f5oTO ""*' I National and Impulsive.
Bights, Impulsive and Moral.
Desir^'"'""'" > Impulsive before choice,
i^^ti^;. JimpuUiv. from the body.
4
JO MORAL SCIENCE.
The place usually given to Conscience is above
Moral Love, with Right for its object ; while the
Moral Affections are not distinctively recognized.
That the above are in their order as condi-
tioning and conditioned will be readily seen.
But for those below, the higher could not be,
Law of con- ^^^ Y^* ^he lower have no agency in
and°co'Sdi- pioducing the higher. This is what I
tioned mean by the law of the conditioning
and the conditioned — a law that pervades the
structure of the universe, and renders necessary
an agent distinct from itself. This law is ex-
plained in the " Outline Study of Man." It ia
su£5cient to say here, that by a condition I mean
that in one being or thing which is indispensable
to the being of another, but has no eflBciency in
A condition pioduciug it. A conditiou is thus distin-
notaoaiiBe guigije,j from a cause. God is the cause
of matter and of the universe, but not its condi-
tion. Space is its condition, but not its cause.
The foundation of a house is its condition, but
not its cause, and any attempt to make it either
he cause or a part of it is in violation of the
common judgment as indicated by the settled
usages of speech. Besides the foundation, there
is needed a builder. In the same way the appe.
tites, which are common to animals and men, are
the condition, but not the cause of the higher
powers that belong to man ; and in the series
given, this principle applies all the way up.
QUALITY OF GOOD. 51
Practically, the rank of these powers, and so
that of the quality of the good from their Rank intni-
activity, is known intuitively. Every knom».
man knows, and cannot but know, that the pur-
suit of knowledge and the good from that, is
higher, nobler, more human than that of sensual
pleasure. It is only by the possession and exer-
cise of noble faculties that man comes to a sense
of dignity, and in such exercise he comes to it in-
tuitively. No one who has not come to it thus
can tell another, or be told, what it is. And as
the sense of dignity is thus known, so is the rela-
tive dignity of the different powers and their prod-
ucts. This intuitive perception of an order of the
powers as higher and lower, and of the correspond-
ing quality of the good from them, is peculiar to
man, and is a marked distinction between him
and the brutes. Such recognition is sufficient for
practice, but for the purposes of science we need
a law. We need it not only to fix the quality of
the different kinds of good, but, as will be seen
hereafter, to fix the limit of action through the
law of limitation drawn from this.
Having then this law, and this arrangement
from it, we notice briefly the several powers.
CHAPTER IV.
MPULSIVE PRINCIPLES OF ACTIOH.
THE APPETITES.
These are desires, but they are made a clan
by themselves, as originating from the body, as
periodical, and as having a physical limit. The
object of the appetites is the well-being of the
body and the continuance of the race. The more
prominent are three, hunger, thirst, and sex, but
any periodical craving indicating a physical want,
as that for air or for sleep, is of the nature of an
appetite.
INSTINCT.
That instinct has exclusive relation to the ap-
petites, is not supposed, but it is placed with them
as equally essential, and as most prominent in
that connection. All spontaneous tendencies are
of the nature of instinct, but in connection with
appetite it is indispensable. If the young bird
did not instinctively open its mouth it would per
ish. So also would the lamb if it did not kno\i
in the same way where to seek for its food. As
instinct is so far beyond the control of will, and a»
its function in man, after responsible action begins,
IMPULSIVE PRINCIPLES OF ACTION. 63
IB ao obscure, it is not usually treated of in moral
icience.
THE DESIRES.
A« a good of some kind is the only ultimate ob-
jpct of choice, so desire is the chief, if Thederirei:
not the only impulse to action in seeking ore.
it, and indeed to any voluntary action. He who
dfcsires nothing will hope for nothing, will fear
nothing, and will do nothing. If there be aver-
sion, it will abide as a mere feeling till a desire to
be removed from the hated object leads to action.
Originally, the immediate objects of desire re-
lated to oui constitution as a means of good were
individual, but these were readily classified, so
that the objef.ts of the desires are now expressed
by general terms. What we now call the desire
of property originally revealed itself in the desire
of some particular thing ; and so of the others.
Desire passes up as an element into the affections.
There can be no love where there is no desire for
the good of the object loved. It also passes up
and blends with each of the principles of action
above it.
The desires being all of the same order, it was
'lardly to be expected that the law of 0^3,, fa,,
conditioning and conditioned should ap- "*"'«"■
ply to them at all, and certainly not in so pro-
nounced a way as te different orders of powers.
Besides, as they are more intimately related, the
difficulty from interdependence, as recognized in
64 MORAL SCIENCE.
the Outline Study when arranging the functions
of the body, would be greater. Still, the attempt
to arrange them in part according to that law was
made, and the desires of continued existence, of
property, of knowledge, of power, and of esteem,
were placed vertically in the order now mentioned,
as lower and higher ; while those of good, of lib-
erty, and of society, were placed by their side as
blending with the others. Probably all would
agree that there is room here for something of the
kind, but would not agree upon the order. Ac-
curacy here is not of the first importance; but
perhaps we may be aided in our estimate of their
relations if we place them all in a vertical line and
divide them into two equal parts, thus : —
Esteem,
Power,
Knowledge,
Property,
Society,
Liberty,
Good,
Continued Existence.
Of these the four lower are of'things into which
we naturally come without labor, and are the con-
dition of the successful pursuit of those above.
Of these several desires I have treated slightly
in the Outline Study, and more fully in my Lec-
tures on Moral Science, and nothing further need
be said of them here, excepting a word respecting
liberty and good.
IMPULSIVE PEINCIPLES OP ACTION. 66
By liberty here is not meant the liberty of man
13 a moral being, that is, liberty of i,egi„io,
choice. That liberty he does not desire, "•""y-
He has it by necessity, and as a part of his being.
The liberty desired is freedom from unjust re-
straint by the will of another.
The desire for good is altogether peculiar as not
only blending with the others and al- De8i„for
ways present with them, as the idea of *°°*"
existence is with all our thoughts, but as that
which gives to the objects of the desires, and to
the desires themselves as a part of the constitution,
theii- whole value. It is also peculiar because a
good is the only thing that has value in itself, and
is that ultimate end in all forms of activity that
has no utility, and can never be directly sought
for. All we know of our being is its activities and
their results. The activities are in part directly
subject to our will; the results only indirectly, or
not at all. There are other ends, as the growth
of plants and our own growth, that can be
sought only indirectly; but they are of no value
except with reference to a good either of our-
selves or of others. If there were no conscious be-
ing capable of a good, the material universe, how-
ever beautiful or vast, would have no value. It is
with relation to this that our being is constituted,
and neither reason, nor Scripture, nor an enlight-
ened conscience, ever requires of us anything that
would not be for our own highest good, and, wh^t
b6 MORAL SCIENCE.
is always coincident with that, the highest good ol
others. If Christ commands a man to " lose his
life," it is that he may " find it; " if to "hate his
life in this world," it is that he may "keep it
unto life eternal."
These peculiarities of a good as the only object
of desire really ultimate, and as incapable of be-
ing directly sought, are worthy of careful atten-
tion. They show us at once of how little value
external things may become, and, do what we may
ourselves, how constantly and entirely we are de-
pendent on an agency not our own for any good
we may enjoy.
THE NATURAL AFFECTION'S.
These differ from desires in their object. The
Natural af- objcct of the desires is things. The ob-
feotions. . - , t rr * • •
Their ob- ject of the natural attections is sentient
ure.'and beings, chieflv persons. The affections
elassiflca- ° i t-v •
Hon. are more complex. Desire enters into
them, and so is a condition for them ; but in their
distinctive character the affections are the oppo-
site of the desires. The desires receive ; the af-
fections give. Though not selfish, the desires
have reference to self, the affections to others.
True, as the desires are our desires there is a re-
flex of good to us; but that is not thought of. U
it could be, and become the motive, the distinct-
ive element of affection would be lost. Affectior
\s disinterested. It must be, or cease to be at
IMPULSIVE PRINCIPLES OF ACTION. 67
all. Hence, and as spontaneous, its beauty. Aa
purely natural it has no moral character ; but
moral character is shown by dwarfing it through
selfishness and vice, or by giving it all the play
the higher powers will allow. Natural affections
are of great diversity, and the character of them
changes with their object. The affection of the
parent for the child is different from that of the
child for the parent. The affection of the brother
for the brother is not the same as that for the
sister.
These affections are usually classified as benev-
olent and malevolent. A better nomenclature
would be, beneficent, defensive, and punitive.
Nothing either benevolent or malevolent can be-
long to natural affection, but let any one come be-
tween the affection and its object, and the energies
of the being will be arrayed in opposition in pro-
portion to the strength of the affection. The de-
sires are for the well-being of the individual, the
affections for the preservation of the race in early
life, and for the well being of society.
EIGHTS.
It is with hesitation that I place rights among
oar active powers, and next in order. I Bights why
hesitate first, because no one, so far as I among mi-
know, has placed them there ; and second, piea.
because they involve an element from the moral
nature, which has not yet been reached. They ar«
68 MOBAL SCIENCE.
among our active powers only as the idea of a
right is associated with a desire or an affection ;
but thus associated they are among the most pow-
erful. Men fight for their rights, and feel justi-
fied and ennobled in doing so. The idea of the
right of a man to himself, that is, to the unob-
structed exercise of his powers for their legitimate
ends, is immediately given by the moral reason
in connection with the exercise of those powers.
This idea is fundamental in moral action, and per-
vasive like the atmosphere. It stands ready to
rush in at any point that is opened for it by the
operation of a specific desire. Like its twin idea
of obligation, it may stand by itself, or it may be-
come, when associated with a desire or an affec-
tion, the leading feature in a principle of action
and give it its name. It is just thus that we get
a new principle by the combination of the element
of affection with desire. Having then an original
desire for property, the idea of a right immedi-
ately combines with it when that is brought into
action, and becomes the leading feature of the
whole. I therefore venture to place as springs
of action next above the affections, those rights
that spring from the desires, as the right to life,
to property, to freedom, to reputation, and the
Btill more sacred rights that spring up in conneo
lion with the affections.
CHAPTER V.
RATIONAL PRINCIPLES OF ACTION.
SELF-LOVE.
This has for its object our own good. In com-
mon with the principles of action already object and
, . . 1 ... T nature of
mentioned it involves an mstinctiye tend- seii-ioTe.
ency, and, in addition, a rational apprehension of
good as valuable in itself, together with a compar-
ison of the means of attaining it. In the lower
principles of action there is a direct correspond-
ence between the principle and its object, and so
no comparison. Each separate principle tends di-
rectly to its own object, and so, without some
governing principle, they would become a mob.
But here there is comparison, and if self-love be
true to its own function, there will be a choice of
that which is highest and best for us. This gives
us from the principle itself of self-love, in addition
to the good from the active principle adopted, a
rational satisfaction and sense of dignity in secur-
ing our own highest good. This we have because
there is in self-love, and in securing our highest
good, both rational activity and dignity. When
a being comes to know himself as rational and
so MOKAL SCIENCfc.
moral, with impulses that are tc be controlled,
there is involved in that the activity of reason and
conscience, and a conception of the highest good
that is possible for a rational and moral being of a
Sell-love given capacity. It is this good that is
»duty the proper object of self-love. It is a
high and ineffable good, and the pursuit of it is
as much a duty as the pursuit of the good of our
neighbor. Why not ? God estimates it as highly.
He is as desirous it should be attained, and he
has intrusted the attainment of it especially to
us, and in the choice and pursuit of such a good
there is a consciousness of dignity and worthiness
wholly apart from any good that may come from
the activity of any particular desire or affection.
There is just .now a tendency to confound self-love
with selfishness, or, if that be not done, to dispar-
age efforts for our own good as compared with
those for the good of others. Such efforts are not
to be degraded from the high plane of duty. In-
deed the choice by each man of his own highest
good is a duty to others and to God as well as to
himself, for the moment an inferior good
gelflslmefiB . , ic i i
IS chosen as supreme, self-love becomes
belfishness in its principle, and will be sure to
manifest itself as such. No man can do this and
give God and his fellow-creatures their proper
place.
Next above self-love, and as having an object
of its own in the same way, is.
RATIONAL PRINCIPLES OF ACTION 61
KATIONAli LOVE.
For this, self-love is a condition. Without a
knowledge in our own experience of what a good
is, and of its value, we can have no conception of
the good of another, and no wish for it. But
self-love being given, we shall have in Elements of
the formation of this love, first in the ioto
order of time, an idea of the worth or value of
the being as distinguished from his worthiness.
This involves an appreciation of both the capa-
bilities and liabilities of the being. This, how-
ever, is rather a condition of the love than one
of its elements. Second in the order of time,
though first in that of nature, we have what Ed-
wards calls a " propension " of mind, or, as Dr.
McCosh calls it, an " appetency " towards the be-
ing, and a desire that he should attain his end.
This is an indispensable element of the love, but
not the love itself. It is spontaneous, and may
be overcome by other forms of spontaneous action.
That it may become rational love there must be
(third) a choice for the being of his end and
good, and such a devotement of ourselves to him,
that is to the attainment by him of his end and
good, that we shall be willing to make sacrifices
for it as we would for our own. Of this love the
central element is choice, — the choice choice the
of the good of others for the sake of ment.
that good. If it be not for the ^ke of that it is
62 MORAL SCIENCE.
not disinterested, it is not love. This choice is to
be made in view of the capabilities and liabilities
of others, without reference to their moral char-
ajter or to their relation to us as friends or ene-
mies. In no other way can we understand the
command of Christ to love our enemies; in no
other way can we follow his example. Here the
governing motive is not a sentiment, or impulse
from behind, but an apprehension of reasons
placed before us. It involves the will; and if it
do not so involve it that impartial efforts would
be made for the good of others as for our own,
it is not the love which our moral nature de-
mands, and which the Scriptures demand as the
fulfilling of the law.
The capacity for this love distinguishes man
Rational from all crcaturcs below him. It is ra-
tinctiTo pre- tioual, bccause none but a rational being
man can Comprehend the good and measure
its value; and it is moral, because it is demanded
by the moral nature, and so demanded as to be
involved in and to limit all the virtues. As the
idea of being underlies and is involved in all our
thinking, and as the idea of a good underlies and
is involved in all our choosing, so the idea of
love underlies and is involved in all the virtues,
and is so involved in them as to give them their
limit. It is what the moral law demands as affirm-
ing obligation; it is what it limits as guarding
rights, if that can be called limitation which it
RATIONAL PBINCll-LliS OF ACTION. 63
but another aspect of love. The guardianship of
rights is that office of love that gives it an aspect
of severity. It is in this guardianship Rational
that we find justice and its cognates. If jSItiMl
there were no rights to be guarded there could
be no justice. But justice has no absolute claim
like that of love. If it had, mercy would be im-
possible, since there can be no mercy where law
is concerned unless punishment might be justly
inflicted. As law has its origin in love, having
always for its end the best good of those under
it, there can be no real contrariety between them,
and no apparent contrariety till the subject of
law incurs its penalty. Then law, supposed to
be just, can know no mercy; and love, as the
originator of law, can know no expedient that
will set it aside. To the law of love there can be
no exception; but the claims of justice may be
set aside in favor of that higher and more com-
])reliensive law if that can be done, not only with-
out the violation of any right, but with the full or
even fuller security of all rights. This, we be-
lieve, can be done, and has been done; and when
tliis is done, "mercy rejolceth against judgment."
To express this love, benevolence would be the
best word if it were not ambiguous; but Benevoienc.
it has been mischievously so. By some ""'•''s"""'
it has been made identical with the love cora-
vnanded by the Scriptures, and so inclusive of all
the virtues. By others it has been regarded, aa
64 MORAL SCIENCE.
in part at least, an impulsion which we share in
"•mmoii with the brutes; and others still have
riewed it sometimes in one aspect and sometimes
Dr. Aiei- ^^ ''^*^ Other. Says Dr. Archibald Alex-
""*"■ ander : " No doubt much that deserves
the name of virtue consists in good-will to others
and in contributing to their welfare ; but it is not
orrect to confine all virtuous action to benevo-
ence. We can conceive of benevolence in a being
who has no moral constitution. Something of this
kind is observable in brute animals." ^ Again,
Bishop Bishop Butler says, as quoted by Dr.
Butler. Alexander : ^ " Without inquiring how
far and in what sense virtue is resolvable into be-
nevolence, and vice into the want of it, it may be
proper to observe that benevolence, and the want
of it, singly considered, are in no sort the whole
of virtue and vice." But in his sermon on the
love of our neighbor he says: "And therefore a
disposition and endeavor to do good to all with
whom we have to do, in the degree and manner
in which the relations we stand in to them re-
quire, is a discharge of all the obligations we are
under to them." He says further : " It might be
added that, in a higher and more general way of
consideration, leaving out the particular nature
of creatures and the particular circumstances in
which they are placed, benevolence seems in the
strictest sense to include all that is good an<J
1 Moral Science, p. 161. > Hid. p. 166.
RATIONAL PKINCIPLES OF ACTION. 65
worthy, — all that is good which we have any
distinct, particular notion of, We have no clear
conception of any positive, moral attribute in the
Supreme Being but what may be resolved up into
goodness." The bishop even speaks of benevolence
as entering into our love of God, which some are
slow to allow. He says : " That which we call
piety, or the love of God, and which is an essen-
tial part of a right temper, some may perhaps im-
agine no way connected with benevolence. Yet
surely they must be connected if -there be indeed
in being an object infinitely good." With this
ambiguity in the word, it is not surprising that
those really in accord should have seemed to
di£Eer.
•
CHAPTER VI.
THE MORAL AFFECTIONS.
We have now completed the list of direct active
principles before acting, that is, before a generic
choice is made. When such a choice is made,
especially if it be a choice of some good regarded
as ultimate and supreme, we may be said to create
for ourselves active principles that are spontane-
ous, but that have, as determined by choice, a
moral character. Spontaneous action is never
either free or responsible except as it is deter-
mined by voluntary action. Active principles
thus generated are the moral affections, and
the difference between these and the natural affec-
tions is, that the moral affections, though seem-
ingly spontaneous in the same way as the natural
affections, are conditioned upon a previous choice,
and derive their character from the character of
that.
That the moral should have been confounded
sfatuiai and with the natural affections is not sur-
moral affec- . . _,. t fY» i i i
lions. prismg. Ihe dimculfcy has been m a
failure to perceive the relation just stated of oui
generic and radical choices to subsequent spoit
THE MORAL AFFECTIONS. 67
taneoas action, the character of which is yet de-
termined by the choice. This relation is so inti-
mate that even where the choice is not of the
most radical kind, it will yet so control the char-
acter of a large class of desires, of affections,
hopes, fears, and subordinate choices as to cause
them to be the reverse of what they would have
been. Two men, who, with a full apprehension
of the principles involved, took opposite sides in
our civil war must have had opposite desires and
affections, and the events that caused hope and
joy to the one must have caused fear and sorrow
to the other. But all this is to be traced back to
the original choice. That determined the leaders
under whom they served, the army in which they
marched, the friendships they formed, and very
largely the direction and spontaneous jnovement
of their whole sympathetic and emotive nature.
And this, with the exception that the choice is
more radical and all-pervading, is what takes
place under the moral government of God. By a
thorough choice of Him and his cause, the whole
.nirrent of the soul, all its motives and subordi-
nate choices, its dispositions and tempers, its de-
sires and affections, its hopes and fears, its joys
and sorrows, and its ultimate destiny will be the
reverse of what they would have been if an
opposite choice had been made. All these are
Bpontaneous, are independent of volition ; we are
responsible for them, but only through their rela-
68 MORAL SCIENCE.
tion to that generic and permanent choice which
determines character, and in which character con-
sists.
It is but recently that the distinctive character
of these affections has been seen, and hence they
have not been placed as a separate class among
our active principles.
By some the emotions are classed as active
BmotionB principles, and active principles are
priDcipioB classed with emotions ; but no pure
emotion, that is, no emotion destitute of the ele-
ment of desire, belongs here. Neither joy nor
sorrow is an active principle. These are emotions
that result from our active principles in success
or defeat, but the emotions themselves are not
active principles, nor, according to any proper
asage, are the active principles emotions.
DIVISION m.
THE WILL.
Havinq thus considered the sensibility as it ii
related to choice, we pass to the third great divi-
Bion of our nature, the will.
Of will there are two functions — choice and
volition. These two, with rational in- iwofuno-
tellecfc and sensibility as their condition, wui.
fit man to hare dominion — dominion first over
himself, and then over nature and all inferior
creatures. Of these two functions choice is the
chief. In that alone is freedom, in that moral
quality. In its nature choice is free. If it be
not, it is not choice. Man is under a necessity
of choosing, but what he shall choose he himself
freely determines. Freedom in choosing, being
an essential mode in which our being is mani-
fested, is as certainly known as the being itself.
Not more certainly does man know the act of
choosing than he knows its quality as free. The
act itself is immediately known, and so cannot be
proved. It is too certain for that, and the same
may be said of its quality as free. Men may deny
freedom in words, but they universally affirm it \n
70 MORAL SCIENCE.
their actions, and treat each other as if they sup-
posed themselves and others to be free.
Choice is completed, and responsibility under
vThenre- moral government incurred, when the
bincarred. choice is fuUy made. No outward act
is needed. A choice that will revolutionize a
nation may be made in the quiet and darkness
of midnight, and may abide for an indefinite
time simply as a choice. As thus completed
by an immediate act, choice requires no means.
Hence outward force cannot so reach it as either
to compel or prevent it. Hence too, as the ques-
tion, How? always has reference to means, no one
can tell another how to choose. No one can tell
a child how to love its father, or a man how to
love God. It will follow also, since no outward
force can compel choice or prevent it, that there
can be no excuse for making a wrong choice, or
for not making a right one. The cause must be
wholly within the man, and within him regarded
as free.
Choice is either specific, or generic. A specific
Specific and choicc is the choice of a single object. A
choice generic choice is the choice of an end
that can be attained only by a succession of subor-
dinate choices and volitions ; or, which is much
the same thing, the choice of some one principle
of action to which others are to be subordinated.
Of generic choices there is a great variety as they
are more or less generic. The choice of a pro
THE WILL. 71
fession is a generic choice ; but the most generic
choice possible is that by which a man accepts or
rejects the law of his being, that is the moral
law. In doing this he disposes of himself. This
he alone, of all creatures on the earth, can do, and
that he can do this is his great distinction. He
can accept the law of his being and be wise, or
reject it and be a fool. No being below man is
capable of being wise, or of being a fool.
Choice may be either between good of the same
kind, as greater or less, or between good choice t*-
of different kinds, as higher or lower, things.
When it is between good of the same kind, it is
between things; when of different kinds, between
different principles of action. Thus if Between
the sense of taste only be addressed the v^inoifie,.
choice may be between an apple and a pear, but
it may also be between the indulgence of appetite
and the desire of knowledge, or any of the higher
forms of activity. In either case the choice pre-
supposes a knowledge by the intellect of that
which is to be chosen, and an apprehension
through the sensibility of some good on the ground
of which it is to be chosen.
Volition, the second and secondary constituent
of will, is always preceded by choice, choice pre-
not only by a choice that may be held oon.
in abeyance, but by an immediate choice to put it
forth. The choice between an apple and a pear
72 MORAL SCIENCE.
may be made long before either is taken, but the
moment comes when the choice is made to put
forth the volition, and the office of that is to
originate the moyement by which the apple or
the pear is taken.
DIVISION rv.
CHAPTER L
THE MOKAI, NAXUItB.
From this the moral law proceeds when a man
is a law to himself; and through it that same
law is recognized when it is revealed directly and
in its fullness by God.
By a nature we mean a constitution such that
on given conditions certain results will AMtim.
uniformly follow. Of the origin of how known,
what is thus called a nature no account can be
given. That it is can be known only by phe-
nomena uniformly manifested ; nor can we know
anything of the origin of the phenomena except
their conditions. The conditions being given,
fire will uniformly burn, and hence we say it is
the nature of fire to burn. Because the ox uni-
formly eats grass and the lion flesh, we say it is
their nature to do so. Because sensation uni-
formly occurs in us on certain conditions, we are
said to have a sensitive nature. In the same
way we say that mankind have uniformly, on cer-
tain conditions, moral ideas and feelings, and
hence that they have a moral nature. We say
71 MOBAL SCIENCE.
that it is as natural and necessary for a man to
be conscious of rights, and to feel under obligar
tion to do some things and to abstain from others,
as it is to think or to feel. Endowed as he is,
he cannot help thinking. If he could he would
not have an intellectual nature. In the same way,
if he could avoid having moral ideas and feelings
he would not have a moral nature.
This nature reveals itself, first, through the
Reyeaied in moral or practical reason, in the recogni-
tton"™*"*' ^^°^ o^ rights. No one can exercise his
rights. powers legitimately without a recogni-
tion of his right to himself, that is of his right to
use his natural powers for their natural ends with
no interference from any one else. This idea of
the right of a man to himself is involved in the
very exercise of his powers, and is revealed in
connection with every active principle of our nat-
ure. Has man an original desire for property,
constituting it an end and a good ? Then the
idea of a right to property will reveal itself in
connection with that desire, and no mere expedi-
ency, nor any law except that of necessity, may
interfere with that right. The idea may not come
into prominence till the right either is, or is at-
tempted to be, infringed, but then our nature is
stirred to its lowest depths. Rights are not prin-
ciples of action except as they need to be de-
fended.
As thus corresponding to a right on the part of
THE MORAL NATURE. 76
others obligation can be defined, and enforced.
Such obligation was formerly called perfect, while
one that could not be thus defined and enforced
was called imperfect. According to this the ob-
ligation to pay a debt would be perfect ; to give
something in charity, imperfect. Whewell would
limit the word to the first sense, but as commonly
used, and as I use it, it transcends the region of
rights, and is coextensive with the words ought,
and duty.
But vrith tue idea of a right comes also the idea
of obligatior.. for these are reciprocal. laeaofobii-
If I have a right to myself, others must gfrfg^hte-rt
be under obligation to respect that right, "'f""^^-
and I must be under obligation to abstain from
interfering with the right of another to himself.
It is affirmed, not solely on the ground of the
rights of others as made known through our own,
but also on the ground of their worth, and of our
capacity to do them good.
And here it may be noticed that these two
forms, in which the moral nature reveals s„iptorai
itself, are recognized by our Saviour in Jft^t"""
the two fundamental precepts of the '"""■
moral law given by Him. One of these corre-
sponds to the first and lower form, in which the
moral nature is manifested through the constitu-
tion, and the other to the second and higher
form.
The precept, " All things whatsoever ye would
76 MORAL SCIENCE.
that men should do to you, do ye even so to
them," is given solely with reference to our con-
duct towards men. It founds itself on our moral
nature as intuitively made known on the side of
rights, and could be interpreted only by one
knowing, not his own wishes, but his own rights
and the claims of humanity, and through these
knowing what others would have a right to expect
from him. It is the whole law as the moral nat-
ure reveals itself on the side of rights and with
reference to man, but not the whole as that nat-
ure reveals itself on the side of capacities and
with reference both to man and to God.
We need then the higher and broader precept,
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy
strength, and thy neighbor as thyself." The first
precept is " the law and the prophets." It is
what they taught, but on the second " hang all
the law and the prophets." It is said that Con-
fucius and other philosophers have so far under-
stood our nature as to give the first precept, but
Christ alone has risen to the comprehension and
grandeur of the second.
As a product of the moral reason, this idea of
obiigatim obligation is peculiar, because it is re-
product, lated to each division of our complex
nature. As related to the intellect, it is an idea
as related to the sensibility, it is a feeling ; ana
as related to the will, it is a command. We caL
THE MORAL NATVBE. 77
it Bu^etimes one and someii'mes th«i ^liLick.. It is
not a mere idea, or a mere iwling, oi, like iUauty,
a synthesis of the two. It iu also an imperative,
the " categorical imperative." It is commonly
callud an impulse, and an authoritative impulse.
Dr Wayland calls it so. But no impulse has au-
tlioiity. It is not an impulse in the ordinary
sense of that word, since its action is directly upon
the will, and its function is, not to impel a man
directly towards any particular course, but, when
two principles of action are in question, a higher
and a lower, to require the will to choose the
higher.
Like the other constituents of our personality,
the moral nature is active from the first, intomatio
that is, from the beginning of our moral JJ"^" ^^
life. This is true, as in the appetites, ""■
while there is yet no knowledge of results. Chil-
dren and persons the most ignorant have at once,
in connection with their active principles, an idea
of rights, and so of justice. They have an im-
mediate recognition that something is due from
others to themselves, that is, of rights, and recip-
rocally, that something is due from themselves to
jthers, that is, of obligation. Under these ideas
tlie moral life is developed, but they do not suf-
fice for a philosophy. If we would have condiUoM
; • <• . olaphl-
that, we must take possession of our act- lowphy
,ve principles, must know them in their relation
*^o each other, and be able to accept and justify
78 MOBAL SCIENOE.
them in the eye of reason, by the results they
would produce. If we see that obligation is pri-
marily obligation to choose, and that it always
demands the choice of the higher principle of ac-
tion and of the higher good, we may rationally
Accept it as affirming the law of our Ufe.
CHAPTER n.
MOBAL LAW.
Having thus a moral nature and moral ideas,
man becomes subject to moral law.
To know what moral law is, we need to distin-
guish it from otlier kinds of law. Law is spoken
of as natural, civil, and moral, and these need to
be defined separately, for I know of no definition
that will cover all the senses in which the general
term, law, is used.
We have then, first, natural law. A natural
law is a uniform fact, implying a force natural
that acts uniformly and is independent '*'"
of human will. If, as in gravitation, the rule in
accordance with which the force acts is known,
that enters into our conception of the law.
Of law as thus understood, there are several
varieties, as physical, vital, mental, in varieties
each of which there is a force uniformly natural law
directed to an end. Up to a certain point, the
mind is subject to this kind of law no less than
matter. These laws, or more properly uniformi-
ties, are the basis of experience, are the condition
ii education, and of that intelligent activity by
which means are adapted to ends.
BO MORAL SCIENCE.
Under natural law all things come alike to all.
pecuiiaritiei Accident, impi-udence, willful exposure,
law." are treated alike. It may even be a
duty to incur injury by what is called the viola-
tion of a natural law. One who should be scorched
in an heroic effort to save life would not be said
to be punished. Indeed, whatever harm may
come under natural law does not, as in other
cases, come from breaking the law, for a natural
law cannot be broken by one under it. The harm
comes, as in falling from a precipice, not because
a natural law is broken, but because it is perfectly
obeyed.
Civil law is the expressed will of the supreme
authority of the State in the form of a
ClTillaw •', T . ,
command, and with a penalty annexed.
It may be righteous or unrighteous. It takes no
cognizance of motives, but has for its object the
control of the outward actions of men so far as
they relate to the rights of others. As affecting
the will it reaches only to volitions.
Moral law is law which moral beings are at
Moral law ai- all times under obligation to obey. It
ways bind- .,,-,. ,
lug. is binding upon every moral creature
under all circumstances. To a moral law there
can be no exception. If there can be an excep-
tion to what purports to be a moral law, it is not
a moral law, but a general rule that is to be in
terpreted as the case demands. If man is to ba
H law to himself, moral law must proceed front
MOKAL LAW. 81
the moral nature, and as thus proceeding it ^11
haye, according to what has been said, ,^^
two branches, — the law of righteous- '"»'"'>«•■
ness, and the law of obligation. The law of right-
eousness respects rights, and its precept is. No
right may be violated. The law of obligation re-
spects principles of action as higher and lower,
and good as varying in its quality, and as greater
or less. Its precept is, Choose for yourselves and
for others the higher principle of action, and the
nobler and greater good. These taken together
are the moral law as derived from the moral nat-
ure. To this law there can be no exception, in
this world or any other. Of this law the under-
lying idea is that of a good. Without that idea
there can be no idea of rights, or of an obligation
to do anything for ourselves or for others. As
we shall see hereafter, this law in its coincident
two branches is coincident with the law love.
of love. No one who loves another can violate
Iiis rights, or fail to do for him what obligation
demands.
When moral law, in either form of it as pre-
sented above, is placed before an unper- obligation
verted moral being capable of under- afflrmia.
standing it, obligation to obey it is intuitively and
necessarily affirmed. If it were not, man would
not have a moral nature. The obligation is at
first recognized in a particular case, but immedi-
ately and necessarily, not by generalization or in
•
82 MORAL SCIENCE.
daction, assumes a general form. It is thus, by
the resolution of the two branches of the law into
the law of love, that moral law is the law of obli-
gation. Where there is obligation there is moral
law, and where there is no obligation there is no
moral law.
This affirmation of obligation implies both a
A law and Command and a penalty, and thus be-
' ""*• comes law. In this it differs from a rule.
A rule tells us how to do a thing. A law tells us
what to do and commands us to do it, but becomes
law only as it is enforced by a penalty, or by
punishment. This affirmation of obligation car-
ries with it the force of the word ought ; but un-
less it be supposed to express the will of God
with his autnority lying back of it, it will be, as
men now are, of small force in controlling the
appetites and passions. Men fear but slightly the
reaction upon themselves of violated law, which
may be regarded as penalty in distinction from
punishment.
The sphere of moral law is the control of the
Sphere oi ^^^^ himself iu his preferences and
moral law. choices. Disregarding outward manifes-
tations it takes cognizance of that which can be
known only to the individual himself and to God,
of that which in the Scriptures is called " the
heart." This is its grand peculiarity. It asserts
its prerogative just where moral forces have plaj
and moral battles are waged.
MORAL LAW. 83
This law, or affirmation of obligation, cornea
from within a man, as any law must by (,„„„ ,„„
which a man is " a law unto himself." "'""'n.
It is given by the moral reason when the occasion
conies, and is possible only on the condition that
there be a being possessed of intellect, sensibility,
and will. With this condition the idea and aflSr-
mation of obligation is given by the moral reason,
just as the idea of beauty is given by the aes-
thetic reason on condition of intellect and sensi-
bility, or as the idea of space is given by the pure
reason.
The occasion comes when there is opportunity
for choice between a higher and a lower good.
Obligation is primarily obligation to choose, and
choice must always be between two objects re-
garded as good, or between two principles of ac-
tion I'egavded as productive of a good.
But though the law is thus from within the
man, it is vet not of him as having choice Socrates,
and will, but comes by necessity, and K»nt.
as from a somewhat apart from himself. Hence
Socrates spoke of it as his demon ; hence Adam
Smith called it " the man within the breast ; " and
\ience the comparison by Kant of the moral law
to the stari-y heavens as equally wonderful, and
tis equally apart from himself. Only too, in the
fact of a moral law thus given, could Kant have
found what he regarded as the strongest proof of
the being of a God who is a moral governor. It is
84 VORAL SCIENCE.
an adequate, and tSe only adequate proof. From
the law of cause nid effect, as well as from the
revealed fact that wc ute in the image of God, we
may infer that a morrvl natiue, and ro moral law,
are involved in the personality of God as they are
in our owa.
DIVISION V.
THE PERSON.
Wb have now examined the conditions for
choice, and for action from choice by man as a
being under moral law. In doing this we have
considered the intellect, the sensibility, the will,
and the moral nature, separately. This it was
necessary to do, but we are to be careful not to
regard them as separate entities or agents. It is
not the intellect that thinks, or the sensibility
that feels, or the will that chooses. It is the man,
the one indivisible, intelligent, self-conscious, free
agent that thinks, and feels, and chooses, and acts
from choice. We thus find,
THE PEKSON, OE EGO.
We find a being who knows himself as the sub-
ject of phenomena, and so can say I.
This, no being below man can do. No animal
can do it, nor the sun, nor the stars ; and the
power to do it places man above them all. This
knowledge of himself as the subject of phenomena
and yet distinct from them is consciousness ; and
the knowledge of himself as the subject of moral
86 MORAL SCIENCE.
phenomena that pertain to his own actions is at
the basis of conscience. Finding such a being, we
find, not an act, but its source. "We do not find
the quality of acts as right or wrong, but rights
and obligations, righteousness and wickedness, as
pertaining to a person who chooses, and who
knows with himself whether he chooses or does
not choose in accordance with moral law. Here
we find, not faculties which we may name, but a
being who possesses these, and is more than they.
Here we find the tree which must be made good
if its fruit is to be good.
DIVISION VL
EIGHT AND WKONQ.
Thus far we have been investigating the con-
stitution of man as furnishing the con- jj,^,„ ^,
ditions of choice and action from choice ■'«"«""y-
under moral law. Both the conditions and the law
have their origin as independently of the will of
man as his physical system. His active principles
he did not originate, their relations he did not es-
tablish, he did not give their law. We now come
to man, not only as so and so constituted, but as
choosing from the influence of these principles
and under this law. This brings us to a region
wholly different from that in which we have been.
We have been in a region of necessity, we now
come into one of choice and of freedom.
Of freedom
Towards this point everything that pre-
cedes converges ; from it everything that manifests
character radiates. Through this, man comes to
his highest distinction and prerogative, that by
which he is able to dispose of himself in choosing
his own end. All creatures below man are sub-
ject by necessity to the law of their being. Man
chooses whether he will or will not be subject to
this law.
88 MORAL SCIENCE.
That man has thus a moral nature implies noth-
ing praiseworthy in him. It may be, and is, an
infallible indication of a moral nature in God, and
of his will that we should be under moral law •
but till we reach choice and freedom under the
law given through that nature there is no virtue
or vice, nothing right or wrong, and no ground for
reward or punishment. But in reaching choice
under moral law we find all these. Especially do
Bight and "^° °°^ ^^^ ^'^^ t^® ^""^^ ^^'^^ *^® WOrds
wrong. right and wrong. The object of choice is
a good ; the act of choice is right or wrong. The
theory of right was referred to in the Introduc-
tion, but from its prominence in moral discussions
it requires further attention.
Might has commonly been supposed to be the
ultimate, or rather the moral idea. So
\Fhewell , . tttt i i mi i •
it is made by Whewell. " ihe adjective
right" he says, " signifies conformable to rule; and
it is used with reference to the object of the rule.
To be temperate is the right way to be healthy.
To labor is the right y^aj to gain money. In
these cases the adjective right is used relatively,
that is, relatively to the object of the rule."
"It has been said also that we may have a
series of actions, each of which is a means to the
next as an end. A man labors that be may gain
money, that he may educate his children; he
would educate his children in order that they may
prosper in the world. In these cases the inferioi
R16HT AND WRONG. 89
snds lead to higher ones, and derive their value
from these. Each subordinate action aims at the
end next above it as a good. And the rules which
prescribe such actions derive their imperative force
and validity each from the rule above it. The
superior rule supplies a reason for the inferior.
The rule to labor derives its force from the rule to
seek gain ; this rule derives its force (in the case
we are considering) from the rule to educate our
children; this again has for its reason toforwara
the prosperity of our children."
" But besides such subordinate rules there must
be a supreme rule of human action. For the suc-
cession of means and ends with the corresponding
series of subordinate and superior rules must some-
where terminate. And the inferior ends would
have no value as leading to the highest, except
the highest had a value of its own. The superior
rules could give no validity to the subordinate
ones, except there were a supreme rule from which
the validity of all these were ultimately derived.
Therefore there is a supreme ride of human ac-
tion. That which is conformable to the supreme
rule is absolutely right; and is called right simplj
without relation to a special end. The opposition
to right is wrong."
" The supreme rule of human action may also
be described by its object. '
" The object of the supreme rule of human ac-
tion is spoken of as the true end of human action,
90 MORAL SCIENCE.
the ultimate or supreme good, the summum honum
.... The question why ? respecting human ac-
tions demands a reason -which may be given by a
reference from a lower rule to a higher. Why
ought I to be frugal or industrious? In order
that I may not want a maintenance. Why must
I avoid want ? Because I must seek to act inde-
pendently. Why should I act independently ?
That I may act rightly."
" Hence, with regard to the supreme rule the
question why? admits of no further answer.
Why must I do what is right? Because it is
right. Why should I do what I ought? Because
I ought. The supreme rule supplies a rule for
that which it commands by being the supreme
rule."
" Rightness and wrongness are, as we have al-
ready said, the moral qualities of actions."
According to this, when a subordinate end is to
All rules ^® gained right action becomes so by its
wd^J^cmd! relation to that end ; but when the high-
"^- est end is to be gained, right action has
no relation to that, but only to the rule for attain-
ing it. We have thus, as a ground of right ac-
tion, sometimes an end, and sometimes a rule that
is simply a means for attaining the end. But hav-
ing admitted that the object of the supreme rule
of human action is the true end of human action,
no reason can be given why the supreme rule
ihould not hold the same relation to the suprems
BIGHT AND WRONG. 91
end 01 good that any other rale does to its end.
That would make all rules, as they obviously are,
Becondary, and would carry moral action back to
the choice of a supreme end.
In saying that we are to do right because it is
right, right is made ultimate. But for Doing right
a man to do right because it is right, right
meaning by that as Whewell does, conformity to a
rule with no knowledge of the object of the rule
or of its validity from that, is puerile. The only
other meaning of this phrase, which many regard
as expressing the sum of disinterestedness and vir-
tue, is that a man is to do what he conceives to
oe his duty, because he so conceives it. This a
man may rationally do, but it is not making right
ultimate. It presupposes, if the agent be intelli-
gent, an investigation, or a knowledge in some
way, of the grounds of duty and of right. It is a
singular view of disinterestedness and of virtue to
suppose that they consist in a regard for an ab-
straction for its own sake, whereas the teaching of
the Bible is that we are to love God with all our
hearts and our neighbor as ourselves, and that to
do this is to be disinterested and virtuous.
Whewell speaks of rightness and wrongness as
the moral quality of actions. So we are accus-
tomed to speak, and it is remarkable to ^,^^4 ^ ^
what an extent many have been misled endtahMM
oy this, as if there were something moral '"*"»»«'
Uiherent in the act itseK. If we use rightness and
92 MORAL SCIENCE.
wrongness, or the adjectives right and wrong, aa
we constantly do, to mean the fitness or unfitness
of an act to accomplish its end whatever that may
be, then the quality inheres in the act ; but it is
not a moral quality. The burglar says, I entered
bj' the window ; his companion replies, that was
right. The policeman, seeking to catch the burg-
lar, says, I entered by the window, and his com-
panion says, that was right. In this sense of it
right depends on the judgment. When an assist-
ant surgeon tells his superior that he has cut off
a limb, the term right or wrong in the response
will have no reference to motives or to any moral
quality, but solely to his judgment. In this view
of it a man may intend to do right and do wrong.
He may intend to do wrong and do right. He
may even be virtuous in doing wrong and wicked
in doing right.
But while the quality of rightness and wrong-
Bight M ^^^^ i"^ *^® above sense may belong to
UyMttotho '^^ 3,ct, no moral quality can belong to it
•"'• except in a figurative way. It is con-
venient to call an asylum for the cure of lunatics
a lunatic asylum, and so it is convenient to call an
act done by a moral agent acting morally a moral
act ; but there is no more a moral quality in the
act than there is lunacy in the asylum. Moral
quality can belong only to a person.
The system which thus makes right the ulti
Right imme- mate moral idea has two phases. The
Uately iotu- „ , , ,, ...
.#« iirst regards the sense or intuition 03
BIGHT AND WEONG. 98
right as immediate and infallible. An action ia
right because it is right, and there is an immedi-
ate intuition of it. This not only admits of no
rule as a standard, but of no regard to conse-
quences. The second phase of this system not
only allows, but requires, the use of the intellect
in seeking for relations, consequences, utilities,
but says that the intuition of right is given only
in connection with these. It does not, Theintui-
however, tell us what the particular re- mateiyde-
... , T 1 !• ,1 pends on the
lations and consequences needed for the approhen-
intuition are. Fairly analyzed it will be good.
found that these can be resolved into a good in
Bome form, and so, that this system is coincident
with the one we advocate. If the question be
whether it is right to sell intoxicating drinks, or
to give monej^ to street beggars, there can be no
rational intuition of right till it is known what
will be for the good of the individuals in question
and of the public.
But are there not some actions right or wrong
in themselves ? No. No action can ^^^ „„t
have moral quality in itself. The only Jjfo^g"n
meaning that can be attached to that '•^emBeiyea
phraseology is that the person doing the act is
praiseworthy or blameworthy. Except figura-
tively no action can be rewarded or punished.
Not in the action but in the doer of it do we find
moral quality, and him it is that we reward and
punish. In him we find righteousness or unright-
H MORAL SCIENCE.
eousness, goodness or wickedness. These involve
moral qualities which can belong only to a per-
son. The action may indicate, but cannot possess,
them.
Is there then nothing right or good in itself ?
Righteous- Yes. Righteousness, regarded as a form
gooduoss. of constant activity in the will, is right
in itself, and goodness, goodwilling, is good in it-
self. Of these the products in action are right
and good, but only relatively, and not in them-
selves. Nothing IS wrong in itself always and
everywhere but the disregard of moral law, usu-
ally shown in selfishness, and its sure offspring
malignity ; and nothing is right in itself always
and everywhere but love, and those forms of an-
tagonism to selfishness and malignity which love
must necessarily assume.
DIVISION vn.
MAN CIIOOSING.
CHAPTER I.
AMEENATrVTBS AND LAW.
Having now considered what is preliminary to
choice as a moral act, and also right and wrong
as related to such an act, we wish to know pre-
cisely what takes place when we thus choose.
In order to this we will suppose a man given
to the use of strong drink, and with the J^^ inmtr,.
pay for a day's work in his pocket, to be '""'■
deliberating whether he shall take it home to his
suffering wife and children, or go to the saloon.
The question is between choosing in accordance
with the cravings of appetite on the one hand, or
with the promptings of affection and the behest of
the moral law on the other. It may not be needed,
but as the want of distinctness at this point has
been so great, I will venture to illustrate the rela-
tions of the several factors in a simple way, after
the manner of the " Outline Study of Man."
96 MORAL SCIENCE.
The person deliberating we will represent by
the line A. We will then place Affection, B, and
Appetite, C, in front of him as the motives by
which he is directly addressed, the one drawing
him upward along the line D, the other down-
ward along the line E. We will then place Obli-
gation, or the Moral Law, F, back of him, and
represent its behests as proceeding along the lines
G and H, thus : — „ -Q'
This, as I suppose, presents the relation of the
factors in all cases of moral action. The direct
motives in this case are affection and appetite.
In each there is a good; but one is higher, more
human and ennobling than the other; and it is
between these two kinds of good that the choice
is to be made. In a being rightly disposed, affec-
tion would win without the aid of the moral nat-
ure. The man within the breast would simply
stand by and smile assent; or, if the tendency
towards appetite were too strong, would say. No.
But when appetite is strong, and affection is
strong, and the moral nature, now taking thfl
form of conscience, ia awake, we see what a strug-
MAN CHOOSING. 97
f!;Io of the elemental forces there may be. But,
be the struggle greater or less, the choice itself,
the final decision by which the man disposes of
himself, is his own free act. There is no
pfficient cause of it, no proper cause of
any kind, out of himself. The act is simple, and
so cannot be defined. It is direct, requiring no
use of means, and so no one can tell another how
to do it, and no one can interpose to prevent it.
No force from without or within can so interfere
as to render the act otherwise than free without
subverting the nature. Force has no relation to
it, and motives have no causal relation. They
have no eJBBciency, The man himself, not his
will, but he, the agent, is the cause of the act,
and therefore he is responsible.
We here see that while there is but one force
drawing the man to choose wrongly, there contending
are three acting to lead him to choose '""*'■
rightly. On one side we have simply the crav-
ing of appetite. On the other side we have (1.)
affection for his family, having sole reference to
their good. We have (2.) a sense of the base-
ness of sensuality and of the greater consonance
with his manhood of, the higher act, with its inev-
itable reflex good to himself. We have (3.) the
affirmation of obligation, the moral law.
Of these three the force of each may vary in-
definitely. (1.) Pure affection, with no con-
tciousness of any other motive, may lead the man
t
98 MOIIAL SCIEXCK.
to go to his family. As thus prompted the action
would be beautiful.
(2.) A regard to his own dignity and good
may be the preponderating motive. The reflex
of the act in good upon the man himself could
not be the motive in the very first act; but such
good reveals itself at once, and is a rational and
worthy motive. If there were to be no
other there would be no selfishness. A
man is not to blame for finding enjoyment in do-
ing good if he cannot help it. This reflex good
to the agent thus inevitably connected with affec-
tion, and indeed with benevolence in its widest
form, has led some to say that an act purely from
affection or benevolence is impossible. It would
be if the act could not be done without conscious
reference to this good; but it can be, and is, just
as a boy plays ball with no reference to the health
and sound sleep promoted by it.
But (3."> we have the affirmation of obligation,
Place and the moral law. The relation of this to
. Hlce of con-
ience the act of choicc is wholly different from
that of either of the others. It is not an induce-
ment standing in front to be itself chosen, but
is a voice from behind saying of the path that
leads to the higher good, " This is the way,
wnlk ye in it." It presupposes two or more gocid
ijiings, causes or means of a good, in front, be-
tween which choice is to be made, and its funo-
'.ion is to demand the choice of the higher good
MAN CHOOSIXG. 9i)
[n this view of it there is u double Qiotive for
the choice of the higher good: one, its iiitrhisic
value; the other, the imperative of moral law. Of
these the imperative may so occupy attention that
the man will seem to himself to act wholly from
that. He may say that he does it because ho
.ought, from a sense of duty, from principle, from
a regard to the right, and because it is right; and
this may be the determining element in his choice
as between the two forma of good; but if there
were not in some intrinsic value, aside from the
affirmation of obligation, a reason why the choice
sliould be made at all, obligation must base itself
upon nothing. It could not be rationally affirm-
ed. No one can be under obligation to anything
for wliich there is not, aside from the obligation,
more reason than there is against it. In such ac-
tion the moral element may be more or less prev-
alent, but will always be present while reason
holds its seat.
Having thus seen what takes place when onlj
two active principles are in question, we need U
know what all those principles are, and their rela
tions to each other ; and to find a supreme law
We have ali-eady considered them separately ; but
perhaps we may be aided in apprehending their
relations if we present them thus : —
100
JIOKAL SCIENCE.
THE PERSON,
a
o
fz;
o
K
H
hi
<
Into, and above
this nature man
was put to dress
uiid to keep it.
When a choice
is to be made be-
tween any two
principles of ac-
tion an iuflueiice
i s supposed t o
pass from each
along the lines A
and B to the Per-
son, and also from
the conscience
along the lines C
andD
Righteous I n- ■»
dignation, (
Complacent C
Love,
Rational Love, )
Self-Love, v
Rights, )
Brother and Sis- ^
ter, f
Parental,
Conjugal, etc..
a V
Esteem,
Power,
Knowledge, g g
Property, '^.a
Libert}',
Society,
Moral
Affection*
Rational
and
MoraL
Natural
Affections
" Desires.
s
Instincts.
Sex,
Thirst,
Hunger,
Activity,
Sleep,
Air,
Appetites
MAN CHOOSING. 101
After what has preceded, little need be said of
che enumeration and arrangement in the jheappe
above column. The felt needs of air, '""■
sleep, and activity are not usually placed among
the appetites ; but as originating in the body, as
periodical, and as having a physical limit, they
come under the definition, and the regulation of
them is so within our power and so essential to
well-being, that attention needs to be drawn to
them as subject to moral law.
The desires may be variously arranged. In
the pi'eceding column, that of existence and that
of good are placed on the side as pervading the
rest. This they necessarily do. They
Th0 deairefl
are also distinguished from the others by
the fact that their objects can never be directly
Bought.
But whatever may be said of the arrangement
of the active powers, what is contended for is, —
First, that they differ from each other, and that
that difference is intuitively perceived, just as the
difference between memory and judgment is per-
ceived.
Second, that some are higher than others. By
tliose who have no theory, and no principle of
iinangement, the terms higher and lower are con-
stantly applied to these principles.
Tliird, that as the principles are higher or
lower, the quality of the good from their activity
s higher or lower, and that this difference of
102 MORAL SCIENCE.
:iuality is perceived intuitively. Speaking of the
" springs of action," Mr. Martineau says, " Imme-
diately on their juxtaposition, we intuitively dis-
cern the higher quality of one than another, giv-
ing it a divine and authoritative right of prefer-
ence."
In connection with this higher quality of the
uighMt good, it is to be noticed that as we pass
good ., , ,
wholly in up it comes to be more and more m our
power. own power till we reach the highest,
when it becomes wholly so. For the gratification
of the appetites, the desires, and the natural affec-
tions we are dependent on what is without us,
iiiid often beyond our reach, but no one can pre-
vent us from loving God and our neighbor, or de-
prive us of the good there is from that and the
accompanying approval of our conscience. Uere
we have an independent source of contentment
and blessedness. " A good man shall be satisfied
from himself." The highest duty and the highest
joy being thus naturally connected, we can see
how it is that in the Scriptures joy is made a
duty.
We say. Fourth, that the moral nature, as af-
fii-ming obligation, is not itself an active principle
having its own object, but that it acts directly
upon the will, or rather upon the man himself, to
determine him in his choice between two or more
active principles or ends. Of principles of actior
ill conflict it will always require hiin to choose th«
MAN CHOOSING. 103
higher. If there were not principles of action be-
Bides itself between which the man might choose,
the conscience would have no scope.
We say, Fifth, that the law of the conditioning
and the conditioned gives us a scientific i^„ „, „„„.
test of the relation of the active princi- andTcra^
pies to each other as lower and higher, ''°""'*-
this law having been as strictly observed in the
upbuilding of nature as the law of gravitation is
in its permanence. This law, like that of gravi
tation, was known and practically acted upon
long before the conception of it entered into sci-
ence.
We say. Sixth, that from the law of the condi-
tioning and the conditioned the law of j^„ „, u^.
limitation is directly derived, and that it "*"™'
is by this law that the normal action of the lower
powers in their relation to the higher is to be
tested. This law, as stated in previous editions,
and in the " Outline Study of Man," is, that we
are at liberty to bring into exercise every lower
power, and to derive from it what enjoyment we
may, provided such exercise be carried only to
the point where it will best minister to aU that is
above it.
This gives us the natural law of self-denial. It
is the denial for our own sakes of a lower princi-
ple of action when it would be inconsistent with
:he best action of any one above it. That such
denial should be called self-dea'\a,] does not speak
104 MORAL SCIENCE.
Well for that self. The Christian law would re-
quire us to take into account the good of others,
and to deny ourselves for that.
If now we begin at the bottom of the column
Conscience ^^ ^ctive principles, and go upwards, we
puWto° '" shall find that the conscience, which has
principles, jurisdiction along the whole line, will
enforce the law of limitation at every point. Ap-
petite will be at work as an independent principle,
and may be indulged up to the point where it
will best minister to the health of the body, and
to the highest efficiency of the powers above it ;
but the moment it tends to transcend that limit
the conscience puts in a veto. And not only so,
but, since appetite has for its object only an in-
ferior interest, the law of limitation may arrest it
before reaching the point determined by its own
law. Not seldom do higher interests require this.
The mother who might properly satisfy her own
appetite fully is bound to arrest it, if need be, for
the sake of her famishing children. As subordi-
nate, the law of appetite, its own law, is thus
constantly liable to exceptions through the de-
mands' of the higher nature, and in accordance
with the law of limitation. And so it is all the
way up. In connection with every lower princi-
ple of action there are exceptions, and the law of
limitation comes in, until we reach the highest
ihe prinoi- principle of all. We then find a princi
pie and law i i i ,
jfiove pie that has no limitation, and a law
MAN CHOOSING. 105
that baa uo exception. We find The Peinciplb
OF Love, and The Law of Love. There is no
possibility of loving God too much, and no danger
of loving our neighbor better than ourselves, and
80 there is no limitation. There can be no cir-
cumstances in which we shall not be under obli-
gation to love God with all our heart, and our
neighbor as ourselves, and so there is no excep-
tion.
The natural and supreme law of our constitu-
tion, thus found by a fair analysis of the Scop« of the
powers, and an exposition of their rela- law.
tion to each other, will, of course, take cognizance
of the whole column of active principles, whether
to prevent the encroachment of the lower upon
the higher, or of the higher upon the lower. As
man now is, the chief danger is that the lower
principles will encroach upon the higher. Hence
the law of limitation is to be carefully guarded ;
but having once reached through that and the law
of the conditioning and the conditioned the su-
preme law of love, that law can no more permit
excess in a higher principle as it is related to a
lower, than in a lower principle as it is related to
a higher. It can no more permit the injury of
health for the sake of knowledge, than it can per-
mit an indulgence in appetite that would prevent
the gaining of knowledge.
We thus see that the nighest activity of rational
ove wjth reference to its own ends as having
i06 MOKAL SCIENCE.
value in themselves, is the very thing, and the only
Dnion of thing, that the law demands. Seeing thia
lore. we find a perfect coincidence between
the law of our being and ibs highest active prin-
ciple, and thus do we marry them — LAW and
Love, the two mightiest forces in the universe.
It is this that we have sought. This, and this
alone, so brings harmony into the constitution
that law, and reason, and impulse can work to-
gether. We thus find a perfect law without bond-
age, and perfect freedom without license. We
find a perfect law without bondage, because there
can be no bondage where love reigns ; and we find
perfect freedom without license, because there can
be no license where law reigns. The highest har-
mony of the universe is in the love of a rational
being that is coincident with the law of that being
rationally affirmed ; and the deepest jar and dis-
cord is from the love, persistent and utter, of such
a being in opposition to his law. It is because
there is in the Divine Being this harmony of law
with love that He is perfect. It is because this
harmony is required in the divine government
that that is perfect ; and no philosophy for the
regulation of human conduct can be both vital
and safe in which that same union is not consum-
mated. Such a union is demonstrably the only
condition of perfection for the individual, or foi
society ; and when it shall be universally consura
Biated the niilleniiiuin will Imve conie.
MAN CHOOSING. 107
Thus it is that while love is a rational princi-
ple of action, and the highest possible ihaiawoi
• 1 -i • , ,1 ■• 11 love the law
principle, it is at the same time and al- ofourbeing
ways obligatory, and so the law of love becomes
the law of our being. In substance, and as ex-
pressing his inmost nature, love is the one word
uttered by God in the Bible. " God is uttered bj
Love." It is the one word that em- '^°'"-
bodies his commands as expressed in the Bible.
" Thou shalt LOVE the Lord thy God with nil
thy hfcart, and thy neighbor as thyself." By the con-
It is also the one imperative word ut- mun.
tered by Him through the constitution of man
regarded as a whole; and in the coincidence of
these two utterances we find a perfect proof tluit
both are from Him.
In the highest generalization, defining love to
be the choice of the good of conscious loveana
being impartially and for its own sake, '""-''"•"
the law of love will include self-love as well as
love to others. Still, since each one is specially
intrusted to himself, antl has appetites, passions,
interests, temptations, that cannot be shared by
others, it is better for practical purposes to regard
■elf-love as a separate principle.
CHAPTER II.
WICKEDNESS.
We have now seen what the harmony of the
3onstitution would be, and how it may be at-
tained. We turn for a moment to the revei'se of
this. In the possibility that man can reject the
law of his being we find the possibility of both sin
and immorality.
" Sin is the transgression of the law." It is
what the Scriptures call it, " anomia"
lawlessness. It is the choice of some
L-nd or principle of action lower than the highest
111 id making it supreme. It is the practical rejec-
tion by a rational and moral being of the law of
Ills being, the moral law, the one law for the con-
unity oi the ^^'°^ °^ moral beings whoever and wher-
law. gygj, tiiey may be. This law must be re
coived or rejected as a whole. " For whosoever
shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one
point is guilty of all." Any other principle would
permit each man to transgress in the directior.
of his strongest propensity and then to excuse
himself, as so many do, on the ground of their
obedience in other respects.
WICR.EDNESS. 109
This unity of the law and the necessity of re
ceiving or rejecting it as a whole divides t„oc1ms«
men into two classes — those who ac- "'"en.
cept the law, and those who do not. None obey
it perfectly, but some recognize it, justify it, ac-
cept it, and make it their purpose to conform
their lives to it. With others there is no practi-
cal recognition of the law as a whole. It is not
their supreme purpose to make it the law of their
life.
For those who do accept it, it becomes both a
principle and a law of love, an active principle
like any other, and the supreme law as proclaimed
by the moral nature. For such there are as many
forms of beneficence as there are of besetments
and liabilities, of wants and woes among ^^^^^^ „£
men ; and the merit of the agent in re- """'''•
lieving them will be measured, not by the amount
done, but on the principle of the widow's two
mites, by the amount of self-sacrificing love.
Other motives may lead to beneficence, but the
only pure source and true measure of it is self
sacrificing love.
For those, on the other hand, who do not accept
the law there are as many forms of sin as there
are active principles lower than the highest, and
that can gain occasional or permanent control. It
will matter much to the individual and to society
which of the lower principles predominates ; but
be it which it may, the character "will be rad-
110 MORAL SCIENCE.
Ically wrong unless the principle and the law of
love be made supreme.
This unity of the law and necessity of receiving
Nosepara- it Hs a wliole, if at all, shows too the im-
lon an/mo^ possibility of drawing a definite line be-
"•''*^- tween religion and morality. It is usual
and convenient to distinguish duties of which God
is the object, and offenses directly against him,
from those of which man is the object, and offenses
directly against him, and thus to make separate
departments of morality and religion. We say of
men that they are moral, but not religious ; and
it has been one of the great delusions and perver-
sions of the world to suppose that they could be
religious without being moral. Most religions
have been constructed on this supposition, and
not a few have incorporated the grossest immo-
ralities into their religious rites. But as the law
is the moral law, any infraction of it is strictly, if
not technically, an immorality ; and as it is a
divine law, any infraction of it is disobedience to
God, and so irreligious. A true religion must in-
clude and require all the duties of morality, but
no religion not from God ever did, or ever will,
thus include and require those duties.
DIVISION VIII.
OF CONSCIENOB.
In treating of the moral nature I said nothing
of conscience. The reason was that I
include in conscience only those plienom- nature and
I* 1 . I'll conscience
ena from the moral nature wluch relate "ot idenu-
to our own conduct. Through the moral
nature we are furnished with moral ideas, by
which we are enabled to judge on moral subjects
as on others where our own conduct is not in ques-
tion. We thus judge of abstract questions of
morality, and of the conduct of others. But ac-
>ording to its etymology (con-scio, a conscience
knowing Avith), conscience is strictly the ''"""J'-
knowing of ourselves together with a knowledge
of moral law as it is related to us. As Asoom-
commonly understood, however, con- deratood.
icience includes not only knowledge, but also the
feelings which precede, accompany, and follow
.he moral act. It presupposes a moral nature
that furnishes the two fundamental ideas of rights
and of obligation, and includes all the phenomena
that arise when either of these ideas is regulative
112 JIOKAL SCIENCE.
in our own conduct. Thus, the immediate rec-
ognition of lights by children and ignorant pev-
sons is said to be from conscience. They know
themselves together with the moral law that is
involved m the iinowledge of rights, and, when
their own rights are concerned, have a peculiar
class of feelings which are attributed to the con-
science.
But the chief business of conscience is to regu
coMcience late our choices. This it does, or seeks
ehoices. to do, by the affirmation of obligation.
In such cases we have presented to us always
an alternative. We may act from a higher or
a lower principle of action. We may choose a
nobler or a baser end, and the moral nature,
now acting as conscience, affirms obligation to
Elements of choose the higher principle and the
tonscience. jjobler end. Then will come delibera-
tion for a longer or shorter period, often a pro-
tracted and severe struggle ; then the choice ; then
the selection of means to carry out the choice ; and
then, on reflection, self-approbation or rcuiorso.
These are the phenomena, and so far as the moral
nature is concerned in them, they are all commonly
attributed to conscience.
We may tlien define conscience to be, first, tha
knowledge of ourselves together with the
D«Qnit]onfl. , i i r i i i
know ledge of moral law, and as we dr«
related, to that. This excludes feeling.
UK CONSCIENCE. 118
Or, second, we may define it to be tlie whole
moral consciousness of man in view of Lis own
actions and as related to moral law. This will
include the testifying state which accompanies the
struggle while deliberation is going on, and also
tlie self-approbation or remorse that may follow.
From what has now been said we may see how
far the conscience is infallible.
The moral nature necessarily affirming moral
law in both its branches, when a m )r,il conseienM
being sees that a proposed action \\ill iibie.
come under that law, the conscience will judge
of it infallibly as right or wrong. Accepting the
law respecting rights, the conscience will infal-
libly judge it wrong to steal because stealing is,
by its definition, the violation of a right. There
may be question whether a given act comes under
the law, and the judgment may err, but when the
act is known to come under the law the judgment
is infallible.
We next inquire whether the conscience can be
educated.
Those who make it wholly intuitive necessarily
say no. And as they say on the one Can hecn-
■ 11 • 11,1 ii Bcionce be
hand that it cannot be educated, so they educated?
Bay on the other that it cannot be blunted or
Beared.
But if we regard conscience as including feeling,
as practically we must, we have an indirect con-
trol over it, call it educatirn or what you please,
s
114 MOKAL SCIENCE.
by which the whole tone of our moral life may be
changed. We may habitually neglect to bring our
actions before the tribunal of conscience at all
we may deal unfairly with ourselves and bring
them disingenuously, — and one of these we shall
certainly do if we choose a wrong supreme end ,
or we may form tlie habit of bringing our actions
uniformly and fairly before that tribunal. Be-
sides, the general law of feeling applies here, by
which, if it be rationally cherished, it becomes
purer and stronger, or, if it be repressed, its foun-
tains are dried up. Hence the conscience re-
garded as a whole, may become more and more
sensitive and pervasive, or it may become blunted
and seared. The man may become hardened,
" past feeling." " twice dead," " plucked up by
the roots ; " or his path may be that of the just,
"shining more and more unto the perfect day."
Looking back now over the system we have
considered, it is claimed for it, —
1st. That it is drawn from the constitution of
man and accords with tt.
2d. That it accords with Christianity.
3d. That through the principle of the condi-
tioning and the conditioned it brings man intc
harmony with nature.
4th. That in the law of limitation it furnishes a
principle to be applied by the individual in ad
OF CONSCIENCE. 116
justing tbe claims of each tendency and spring of
action except the highest.
5th. That it reconciles discrepant systems.
6th. That, if fully accepted, it would result in
the perfection of the individual and of society.
PART II.
PRACTICAL.
LOVE AS A LAW.
MAN ACTING FROM CHOICE UNDEE MORAL LAW
PRELIMINARY STATEMENT.
^O^ AS A LAW DISTINGUISHED FROM THE LAW Of
LOVE.
Having considered the Law of Love, we now
proceed to Love as a Law. If we would conduct
life by philosophy it is not enough to know its
law and its end. We must also know how to
apply that law and to reach that end. We need
both parts of that perfect wisdom which it is the
part of moral science to teach. Perfect wisdom
consists in the choice of the best ends and of the
best means to attain them. In this, wisdom dif-
fers from skill, — perfect skill consisting in the
best use of means whatever the end may be.
What belongs to the choice of ends we have con-
sidered. Love is our general principle and primal
wisdom. We now come to another part of our
definition, and inquire what love, working under
tile law of limitation, would require us to do.
According to the Scriptures, " Love is the ful-
filling of the law." Hence the Law of Love and
of obligation or duty are coincident. The reason
is that love is that which the law requires, and
with which, if love be perfect, it ia satisfied.
120 MORAL SCIENCE.
This is conceded, or at least not denied, by wri-
ters on morals ; and yet when specific duties are to
be deduced, they either do it wholly from the
Btand-point of conscience and not of love, or incon-
sistently, from love out of regard to the Scriptural
law. But accepting the Scriptural doctrine, bp«
lieving that the Law of Love covers the domain o/
morals, we proceed to inquire what that law re-
quires.
This inquiry it will be observed is wholly deduc-
tive. In all inquiries respecting duties except the
highest, there are two orders of questions : The
first asks, What ought to be done? The second,
How ought it to be done ? To the broadest pos-
sible " What ? " on this subject, but one answer can
be given. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, and thy neiglibor as thyself."
This is the law of love. As a spiritual act, it is
the primal wisdom, and, corresponding to it there ia
no " How ? " No one can explain to another how to
love, because the love is a primitive act, and no
means can intervene.
Thus regarded love is an act and a choice, and
as rational must itself have a motive. LoTeasap
There must be a reason on the ground motive,
of which love may be demanded by the con-
science. That reason, as we have seen, is the
worth of being, or its capacity of good and evil»
But the act having been done, the generic choice
having been made, love becomes a motive in all sub-
LOVE AS A LAW. 121
sequent acts. The first and great question is, What
does the law demand ? To this the reply is, Love.
The second question is, What does Love demand?
And to every " What ? " here, there is a " How ? "
Or, if we please, all questions of this order may be
comprised in one, — How shall the demands of love
be carried out ?
It is in morals as in astronomy. In that we firsl
find the law, and then apply it. The law being
given, we inquire at what time the sun and moon
ought to bo in such relation as to produce an eclipse.
This inquiry is of a different order from those which
have it for their object to find the law, or the rea-
sons of it. If we suppose, with Kepler, each
planet to be accompanied by an angel, whose busi-
ness it is to see that its radius vector shall describe
equal areas in equal times, all the inquiries and
efforts of the angel might have relation solely to
that result ; but without understanding both the
law and the reasons of it, he could know nothing
of the philosophy of the heavens.
Failing to distinguish, at this point, as most have
Lore <u done, between love as an act demanded by
rhoice and , . i >, i/* • -
ts emotion, the conscieucc and itselt requiring a mo-
tive, and love as the motive of subsequent sub-
ordinate acts and demanding them, we fall into
confusion. In the one case we have the law
of love ; in the other love as a law. In the
first case the main element of the love is choice '
1 Sea Bac Sermon, ISSL
l:^2 moral science.
rather than emotion. In the second the choice is
implied, but emotion seems more prominent. In
the first the choice is hke the body of the smi, in
Itself dark ; in the second it is like the same body
with the elements of light and heat and beauty
gathered and floating around it.
Over the subordinate inquiries arising under love
offlce of 3,s a law, the conscience must watch, de-
wdTnte™ manding not only perfect uprightness and
"'' candor, but such painstaking in informing
the judgment as to secure that secondary wisdom
which more often bears the name, and by which
means are adapted to ends. But while the con-
science must keep watch of the processes, the pro-
cesses themselves are carried on by the intellect.
The great work of. the conscience is done in an-
swering the first question, and in holding the will
in the form of choice up to a perfect correspond-
ence with the law. Subsequently its work will be
to bring subordinate choices and specific volitions
nto conformity with the generic choice, and in
doing so, questions that will be relatively principal
and subordinate, the " What ? " and the " How ? "
will constantly arise.
Accepting then the law of love, we shall need to
inquire, what in the several departments
of duty does that law require, and how
are those requirements to be carried out?
II.
CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIB8.
In answering the above questions, a classification
af duties is needed.
In tliis we shall be guided by that principle of sub-
I'rincipieof ordiuatiou, on wliich the law of limitation
Hon. is based, as stated in the third of the
Lectures on Moral Science. It is as true of
duties as it is of forces, faculties, and enjoyments,
that those are lower w'liich are conditional for
others.
But are some duties conditional for others ?
First de- The Condition of good work is a good in-
S?e. ° strument, of good fruit a good tree ; and
of doing good to others, and glorifying God, a good
man.
Our first and lowest duty will then respect our
own state, including both disposition and capacity.
The first and imperative demand of love is, that we
secure those conditions in ourselves, by which our
power to do good will be the greatest.
We thus roach our first class of duties under
Hrat class ti,e law of love. They are those which
of dutlos •'
Mpwi our- i-uspect ouiselvei. They respect eithei
124 M01.AL SCIENCE.
our owri inward state or outward condition ; and
till we reach absolute perfection, will have for
their object a change for the better in one or the
other of these. They are not distinctively duties
to ourselves, though involving all that has com-
monly been regarded as such; but will include
everything possible to enable us to benefit others
and glorify God. Hence they will be held as du
ties, not so much from regard to ourselTes, as on
other and higher grounds.
The SECOND CLASS OF DUTIES are those to ow
fellow men. These will have for their ob- second ciasr,
iect, until they reach perfection, a change our'fluow
for the better, either in tlieir state or condi- '"™'
tion.
That these are lower than our duties to God wil
probably be conceded, but are they condi- xhesecon-
tional for them ? In a sense they are. ourXtie"
Whatever may be said of an innate or
connate idea of God, and of duty to him as all-per-
vasive, it is true that practically, and in a normal
state, the parent would be known before God, and
that God would be known through him. The sis-
nificance of " Our Father which art in heaven," is
reached only through a knowledge of what a
father on earth is ; and our duties to the earthly,
typify those to the heavenly Father, and prepare
us for them.
But besides this priority of time, and so a condi-
tioning from the order in which the faculties are
ieveloped, duties may be so related that one cannot
CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES. 126
oe consistently or acceptably performed except on
the condition that another has been. One who de-
frauds another may not bestow charity upon him.
He must be just before he is generous. In the
same way immediate duties to God so imply those
to men, tliat a man is in no condition to do the
ibrmer who has not done the latter.
This requires attention. It is the essence of
NoreUgion superstition, and has been the curse of the
without ^ 11 1 !• •
morality. race, to Irauic somethmg called religion
that could be gone tlirough with formally, and be
rested on for salvation, to the neglect of the love of
man, and the duties from that. Hence we need to
emphasize the impossibility of religion without moral-
ity. This the Scriptures do both in the Old Testa-
ment and the New. " I," says God, "hate robbery
for a burnt-offering." " When ye spread forth your
hands, I will hide mine eyes irom you, yea when
ye make many prayers I will not hear ; your hands
are full of blood ; wash ye, make you clean, put
away the evil of your doings from before mine
eyes ; cease to do evil, learn to do well ; seek
udgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the father-
less, plead for the widow." " If," says the Saviour,
" thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there re-
jiemberest that thy brother hath aught against
thee, leave there thy gift before the altar and go
thy way ; first be reconciled to thy brother, and
then come and offer thy gift." " If a man say, I
love God, and hateth his brother, ho is a Har. For
126 MORAL SCIENCE.
lie who lovetli not his brother whom he hath seen,
how can lie love God whom he hath not seen ? '
This view cannot be too strongly enforced, and
ought to enter into the substance of every treatise
on duty.
As prior then in time, and as prerequisite for ac-
ceptable worshiji, our duties to our fellowmen are
conditional for our duties to God.
Our THIRD CLASS OF DUTIES will be those to-
wards God.
These are higher than any other because of their
object, of the higher faculties involved, Third class;
• 1 1 1 1 1 duties to
and because tJiey imply all the others. Qod.
If the love of man be first, as it would be in a child
growing up normally, it will be conditional for that
of God, which will follow as certainly as the foil
day follows the morning twilight ; but when once
there is the love of God, it will be seen to include
or imply the love of his creatures. As man now
is, the true relation seems to be, when specific
duties are required, the performance first of those
toward man as a condition of the acceptable per-
formance of those toward God.
It will be remembered that in classifying physical
forces as higher and lower, we begin ciassifica-
with that winch is broadest, and at each ties as
• 1 1 p • 1- higher nnj
btep in our ascent comprehend fewer iridi- broader.
iduals, till we reach man ; but in classifying duties
we reverse the process ; we begin with that which
is narrowest, and as we ascend reach the broadest
DUTIES TO OUliSELVES 127
Riid grandest generality, including not only out
duties to all the creatures of God with whom we
are in relation, but to God himself.
CLASS I.
DUTIES TO OUKSELVES.
I.
CLASSIFICATION.
We now proceed to consider the first class of
conditionB duties in detail. These will require that
thBse''juties "C securc tliose conditions in ourselves by
auoou'r'du- wliicl) WO Can work most efficiently under
ties toothers, .i i pi
tlio law 01 love.
These conditions are : —
1. That we secure our rights ;
2. That wo supply our wants ; and
3. That wo perfect our powers.
Of thoso each in its order is conditional for the
next, and they will include all that we need to do
for our own good, and to enable us to do good lo
,»thers.
DIVISION I.
THE SECUKING OF OUK RIGHTS.
We are to sectire our rights so far as they may
bo a condition to onr host workinn; under the law
)f' love.
The only right thfit mud be secured for the abovp
128 UOKAL SCIENCE.
gnd is that to life. As long as there is life men
may act under this law, in whatever condition thej
may be. Hence the right to life is more sacred
than any other, and hence the riglit to defend it
even by taking the life of anotlier. God lias en-
dowed men with life, has placed them in their
positions here, often with many others dependent
upon them, has implanted within them an instinct
of self-preservation, has made the life of each as
sacred as that of any other, that security of life
which the instinct guards is essential both to the
well-being of society and of the individual, and if,
with these interests in question, life is wrongfully
assailed, it not only comes within the law of love to
defend it by taking, if necessary, the life of another,
but it is an imperative duty. God does not regard
life as too saci'ed to be taken for the violation of
natural law, and it is not only by a righteous moral
law that life is taken in such cases, but by a natural
law imjilanted in the constitution.
The right to life nmst be defended to the utmost.
'Jf the other great rights, as of liberty, property, and
.•ejmtation, we may be deprived and still work under
the law of love. These rights we are to secure as
far as possible in compatibility with that law,
but as no absolute rule can be laid down, and as
\he subject of rights will be treated further on, it is
not necessary to speak q^ tliem more fully here.
It is only to be said that at each point we are
to yield or defend these rights as the law of love
wisely interpreted may require.
DUTIES TO OUESELVES. 120
DIVISION II.
THE SXJPPLY OF OUR -WANTS.
The second condition of our action under tha
law of love is the supply of our wants.
Ry wants is here meant those things which are
necessary for the well-being of the body and the
mind. These and nothina; bcvond are essential to
fidl work under the law of love. To provide these
requires toil, and this toil every one not incapacitated
by feebleness or infirmity is bound either to undergo
himself, or to pay others an equivalent for it. No
duty is more strongly insisted on in the Scriptures
than this. Not to perform it not only violates the
first law of equity, hut deprives us of all position
and stand-point from which to labor for others.
DIVISION III.
THE PERFECTING OF OUR POWERS.
Having life and having our wants supplied, we
^.le next to perfect our powers. This is the third
duty to ourselves under the law of love. It is of
i.iuch wider scope than those before treated of, but
that the law of love requires it will be seen if we
look at the ways in which we can minister to the
good of others.
These are three : —
130 JIOKAL SCIENCE.
1st. By putting forth our energies, physical and
mental, directly to that end. Keiation of
. 1 perfecdou to
2d. By exerting over them an uncon- the good of
. „ others.
BCious mfluence.
3d. By awakening in them the joy of compla-
cency.
For each of these the one comprehensive con-
dition and duty is our own perfection. "Be ye
therefore perfect." How is this duty to be per-
formed ?
CHAPTER I.
perfection as related to direct action fob
others: of the body: of the mind.
According to the views in the preliminary state-
ment, the process in attaining this T)er- Perfection
^ . . by upbuild-
fection must be one of upbuilding. In mg.
the language of the Scriptures, it must be an
" edification." This gives us a point of departure
and a method, which the term " self-culture " does
not. In this view the instrumental powers, the
appetites, the desires and natural affections, and the
intellect are given us that through them we may
build up a perfect body and a perfect mind. These
l>owers we can control in three ways. We can
inoiie, restrain, and guide them, and these we are to
Jo partly from the good there is from their owd
regulated activity, but chiefly as they are con
litional for the moral and spiritua. nature. Of tha
nature our perfection would require the fullest pD*
sible expansion and activity.
DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 131
In building ourselves up then so as to become
Physic.i effective working powers, we begin with
r«rf«!tioti , , , T ° ^ ■ ' . ° ,
Hrst. tlie body. Love would require us to seek
physical perfection, because this would include
strength, beauty, and ffracc, and uach of these would
aid in the highest ministries of love. The more
strength love has to wield, the more efficient it will
be ; the more it is clothed in beauty and in grace,
the more satisfaction it will give.
For the perfection of the body we are dependent
rothiBend ou the appetites, the lowest of the instru-
law of limit- ' '
►tionfor mental i)owers over which we have con-
Ihe appe- ^
tites. trol. As lower, they are a condition lor
nil that is above them, but their immediate object
is the upbuilding and well-U'ing of the body, and the
continuance of the race. Through them we appro-
priate such things as the body needs, and we have
only to say that in doing this they are to be held
wtricfly subject to tiie law of limitation. By their
constitution they are in a measure self-regulating,
but must always require rational control with ref-
erence to their ends. They may be of any degree
of strength, and be indulged to any extent up to
he point where they cease to be in the best man-
r er a condition for the activity of that which \n
ibove them. The stronger they are the better, if
their action be for the strength, beauty, and grace
of the body, and for the upbuilding of the inteHoc-
tual and moral powers ; and all i)leasure through
them that is incidental to such upbuilding, or ^-ver
compatible with it, is legitimate.
132 MOKAL SCIENCE.
From tlie varying relatiuiis of the appetites, more
precise rules for their regulation cannot be laid
down.
As, however, the evils fioin the appetites are sc
great, we may not jiass tliem without J^"!"^^"
notice. The first great danger from the t't^
natural appetites is, that men will find in the good
iiom them their supreme end. This multitudes do.
Such are sensuahsts ; for the character is always
determined by that in which the supreme end is
(bund. Such persons may wallow in gross sen-
suality, or seek their gratifications in a refined and
fashionable way, but they will belong to the sty
of Epicui-us, will live unworthily, and will die and
be forgotten, leaving the world no better for their
havinc lived in it.
The second great danger from these appetites, ia
Uiat those who have higher aims will be constantly
111 hired and seduced by them, so that the whole
lone of their life will be lowered. Those are few
o whom some soil from sensuahty does not cling.
■ Fleshly lusts " not only injure the body, but
" war against the soul."
The third danger from the appetites is in the for-
mation of those that are artificial. These have notb-
ng to do with upbuilding, as the substances on
which they fix are all poison and incapable of being
assimilated. The pleasui-e from them terminate!
in itself ; the tendency to increase the amount of
the stimulus is strong ; the nervous system is \ut
DUTIES 10 OURSELVES. 133
paired by tlieiii ; habits are formed which hold
men in feai-ful bondage, and it may be questioned
whether the best state of the moral powers and
tlie highest spiritual exercises are compatible with
liiibitual stimulation, either alcohoHc or narcotic.
If God had judged it best that man should have an
appetite for these substances, doubtless He woidd
have implanted it.
Held in their proper place, the appetites are pro-
ductive only of good ; but looking at the history or
at the present state of man, we find the amount of
misery and degradation from abuse of the natural
appetites, and from artificial ones which are them
selves an abuse, to be appalling beyond description.
Of the great corruption of the heathen, one of the
most prominent forms is sensuality, their very re-
ligion being often but a deification of this. Of coun-
tries nominally Christian, especially in their great
cities, the corruption is unutterable, and seldom, if
3ver, has Cln-istianity so pervaded a community as to
lift them wholly out of this slough. Hence we
raise a warning cry at this point. Hence a right
training of the young must involve a control by
them of their appetites, since a failure here is a
ailure in all that is above them.
But while the proximate object of the appetites
■■ppetifes is the perfection of the body, they alone
-lent. are not sufficient for that. For its highest
strength, beauty, and grace, there are needed ir
addition health and physical training.
i34 MORAL SCIENCE.
1. Healtli. This is to the body what virtue ii
to the soul, its normal state, its good ; and
/. 1 ■ • • 11 1 Health
for this, attention is needed, not only to
the appetites, but to air, exercise, sleep, and cloth-'
ing. The care of health through these is a duty,
not only from the consequences to ourselves of its
failure, but because the power of love would thus
be paraly/.ed, and instead of aiding others we should
become a tax upon their energies, if not a burden.
Needless iU-liealth in its myriad forms is an incubua
ui)on society ; and, though it may seem harsh to
call it so, it is, as a violation of the law of love, a
crime.
This whole subject is not as yet brought as it
should be within the domain of the conscience.
The consequences of neglecting the laws of health,
of imprudence, and excess, are constantly attributed
to a mysterious Providence. They have the same
relation to Pi'ovidence as typhoid fever in the filthy
wards of a city. They are visitations under Prov-
idence rendered necessary by the neglect and folly
of man.
2. Physical training. Health alone will not secure
perfection of form or of power. Espe- physical
cially will it not secure grace, which is '™'>'"s-
higher than beauty, and is expressed chiefly
through motion. Hence the need of physical
waining.
The true snliject of education is man in the unity
t{ soul and body. If either factor be neglected,
Ii'JlUiJ - OLKStLVEb. loo
the highest results cannot be reached. Hence a
well regulated system of physical culture is not only
K legitimate part of education, especially of a liberal
education, but it is demanded. In this we have de-
clined from the wisdom of the ancients.
Physical training may be carried too far ; it may
I'hysioai become an end. Not subordinated to a
lo'te"* higher culture, or out of proportion, it is
suaraou. ^ deformity and a imisauce. It also needs
to be guarded against an ambition to perform diffi-
cult and dangerous feats. If it can be guarded at
these two points, it must become an essential ele-
ment ill our system of education.
Strength, beauty, grace, — these are the fruits of
physical training and health. Of these
strength is put forth solely under the fii-
rection of will, and its exertion for others may im-
pose obligation. Beauty and grace, on the other
hand, produce their effects without our direct voli-
tion. They are as an emanation, a fragrance, a
soft green, which we admire and enjoy without feel-
ing obligation.
Are we then under obligation even with i-egard
to the body, to seek not only strength to be used by
will for the good of others, but also those perfec-
tions and accomplishments even which may become
a source of pleasure when contemplated by them ?
{es, even thougn they are so often sought and dis-
played from vanity. By all .means let beauty be
•ought ; beauty of person, and even of dress. This
Vi6 MOBAL SCIENCE.
nature teaclies. The flowers are not sim]jly becom-
ing, tliey are beautiful. Nor do the Scriptures
forbid it. Tlie Apostle Peter, with his quiet and
solemn eye, does not condemn outward adorning
except as in antagonism to the higher '■ ornament
of a meek and quiet spirit ; " " the plaiting of
hair," and " wearing of gold," and •' putting on of
pparel," are not to be the adorning. E,ightly sub-
ordinated they may have their ])lace, but are as
nothing when compared with the " hidden man of
the heart, which is in the sight of God of great
price."
Let grace be cultivated. That costs nothing.
But let nothing be done from self as central. Let
it be in sympathy with the tendency of eveiy or-
ganizing and vital force in nature towards ])erfec-
tion, and as putting us in harmony with the
" Kosmos." Above all let it be for others. If
vanity coidd but be exorcised by love, accomplish-
ments would at once fall into their place and be-
come admirable. The taint which attaches to them,
as in the service of vanity and egotism, would be
removed, and the social questions which arise
concerning them would be easily settled.
But if we are to seek a perfect body, perfeouoa
Tiuch more a perfect mind. "' '°""''
Here again there must be upbuilding. Love
)f -lUg presup])osed, its first business will be to pu/
*nd hold in its place each of the instrumenta
powers.
DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 137
Of these the desires are to the mind what the
Uvrofiim- apDctitcs are to the bodv. They are nat-
Katioo for ^ ^ . . , "^ . .
(he desires, ural aiiu iieccssary principles ot action,
liaving JIG moral character in themselves, but re-
quiring control. Like the appetites they are to be
governed, not on the principle of repression, but
by being made to minister to something higher.
Let the desire of life, and of property, and of knowl-
edge, and of power, and of esteem, have their full
scope, provided they violate no right of others, and
that what the}' appropriate is used in the service of
the affections, and under the guidance of conscience.
But here, as in the appetites, we must draw atten-
Dangers tioii to the great danger there is from
Prom the . °, , °
desires. pervcrsion and abuse.
And here, also, the first danger is that the object
of some one of the desires will be adopted as the
supreme end.
In this case the character formed, and the re-
sults, are very different from those when the ap-
petites are thus adopted. The appetites have a
natural limit. They are satisfied, and cease their
craving; excess in them ultimately and speedily
debilitates both body and mind ; the sphere of the
sensualist is narrow ; he dies and is forgotten. But
the desires bave no natural hmit. " They grow by
what they feed on," and are all absorbing. Hence
we have the poltroon when we should nave the
martyr ; we have the miser, emaciated and cowei ing
over his gold ; we have the pale student outwatch-
138 MOKAL SOIKNCE.
JDg tilt' stars ; we have the conqueror desolating
continents, and the shifting devotee of public opin
ion These fill the world with their deeds. They
trample on appetite, and may seem nobler than its
slaves, but are equally in bondage, and some of
them beyond comparison more mischievous.
And here it may bo well to ^tate what that is in
which the selfishness, and idolatry too, of somshness
the race consist. It is in adojitiug as their "" " '^'
supreme end the good tliere is from the activity of
some lower part of their nature. This is selfish-
ness. Its primary form is not that of enmity to
God, or to any one else. TJiere is no conscious
malignity. It disclaims this when imputed to ii,
and says, " Is thy servant a dog that he should do
this thing?" Not interfered with, it is good-na-
tured, perhaps cultivated and elegant. But let any
one, even God, come between it and the end made
supreme, and it becomes aversion, enmity, bitter
and uncompromising rebellion. In such cases, the
form varying with the appetite or desire, and scope
being given, there is no form of deception, and no
extent or refinement of cruelty to whicli a people
civilized, and cultivated through art, will not go.
This, too, is idolatry. It is the true idolatry of
the race, which has always found svmbois to rep-
resent that which they have made their supreme
end, and who have vcidly worsliijiped their own sel-
lish passions as reflected in those symbols.
It need only be added that those who have choseD
DUTIKS TO ^UKSELVES. 139
higliei' ends ai'e in constant danger through inor-
dinate desire, even more than through inordinate
Appetite.
After the desires, the affections will require at-
rhoaffeo- teution by one who would perfect himself
n'raund'' ^s an agent for doing good. The affec-
"°™'- tions are Natural and Moral. The differ-
ence between these is, that the moral affections are
consequent upon acts of will or choice, and derive
their character from the character of these acts.
The natural affections are found in us acting spon-
taneously, like the desires.
For the most part the natural affections do not
require repression. They rather need culture, and
under that are capable of expanding into great
beauty. Nor is there from them such danger of
abuse that attention need be drawn to it here. It
is sufficient to say that they are to be developed
under the law of limitation.
The lEtei- ^f the instrumental powers it only re-
'"'■ mains to speak of the Intellect.
The necessity of training, and if possible, per-
fecting the Intellect if a man would do much for
his own good or that of others, is admitted. To
this every seminary of learning testifies. Its rela-
live importance is doubtless overestimated, since
education has come to mean chiefly the training of
the intellect.
The general statement here is that the law of
love requires that every talent and means of in-
140 MOBAL SCIENCE.
flaence, wliether general or professicnal, should be
cultivated to tlie utmost.
Does an artisan fail, as in making a steam boiler
to provide in the best way for the safety and com-
fort of the community ; is a physician ignorant of
thv! right remedy, or a lawyer of the precedent on
which his case turns ; does the clergyman lack
quickening and persuasive power ; each is con-
demned by the law of love, and responsible for the
consequences if the failure could have been avoided.
There may be faithfulness at the moment, — at the
bedside, in the court-room, in immediate prepara-
tion for the pulpit — but the failure and guilt may
lie far back in the indolent self-indulgence and dis-
sipation of the years of preparatory study.
We now pass to the Governing Powers. It is one
thing for a person to improve his instru- QoTeming
mental powers, as he might his knife or ^'"'"^•
his reaper, and another to improve those which are
more distinctively himself. It is in these that we
find the worth and dignity of man, in these the
image of God. In these is the germ of immortality ;
in these the seat of spiritual conflict.
For the education of these powers there are no
institutions except those of Christianity. j„ „^p.
Tiie Church with its Bible, and ministry, Spow-
and the Spirit of God pervading all, is "'■
God's institution for the education of these powers,
and training them up into the likeness of Christ,
and so of God. Nor would human institutions be
DUTIES TO OUKSELVES. 141
af any avail. Improvement here must begin in the
Will itself, by its submitting itself to the laws
of ruason and of conscience, and opening the
whole man to every high and holy influence
which God may bring to bear upon him. All
powers are to be improved, and these no less
tlian others, by their being exercised in the sphere
and under the conditions appointed for them by
God. So only. But the sphere of these powers is
to rule. Hence they can be imjsroved only as they
are permitted to be active in ruling. But that
they should do this nothing can secure but that
ultimate act of choice which determines character,
and which lies beyond the reach of all institutions
and external appliances. If these powers be held
in abeyance, their place being usurped by appetite
or desire in the form of passion, they will be dwarfed
and perverted, and will manifest themselves in
every form of superstition and fanaticism.
Such is the sphere of the governing powers. He
who would cultivate them must permit them to
govern, and to govern uniformly. So shall they
gain strength, and so shall he walk in increasing
light until " the perfect day."
But the conditions under which these powers are
Oon^idona to act, aud the helps offered, require to be
uid helps, known no less than their sphere. These
cannot here be treated of at large, but I desire to
advert to the subject of immediate divine aid, be-
cause that is so generally regarded as alien to phi-
142 MORAL SCI£NC£»
losophy. It is not so, for the whole philosophy of
upbuilding would lead us to anticipate that man in
ais liigliest powers would be connected with that
wliicli is still higher. And in this it is accordant
with the voice of heathen antiquity, and of the
Scri])tures. Always men have spoken of the voice
of God within them, and the Scriptures sj)eak of
the " light that lighteth every man that cometh
into the world." The expressions vary, but the
import is that there is a direct access of the Spirit
of God to the spirit of man, both for illumination
and quickening. For tlie reception of these the
Moral Reason is adajited as the flower is adapted to
receive the light and warmth of the sun, and no
symbol could be more beautiful than that of the
flower that turns itself to the sun and follows it in
its course.
But are we not here in danger of mysticism ?
V'es; but only as we are in danger of
conflagration from the use of fire. Let us
be cautious and encoiirage no mysticism. Let ua
rIso be cautious and neither ignore nor quench any
light offered us by God. This is a vital question in
our upbuilding. I hold that this communication
and aid are in strict accordance with philosophy,
and my conviction is that whoever attempts perfect-
.ig his directive powers without prayer, and open-
ing his mind, by putting away wickedness, to the
lluminating and quickening influences of the Spirit
■>f God, will fail of success,
DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 148
It is onlybv thus building up himself through the
ft'holu range of his faculties, that man can reach
the highest efficiency when he would put forth
direct acts of will in the service of love.
CHAPTER n,
PBRFEOTION A3 RELATED TO UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCB.
The second mode of doing good to others is by
unconscious influence or example.
This, in its liigliest degree, requires perfection not
so much of the powers, as in their control and mode
of action. No lower power may act beyond the
point at which it becomes a condition for the action
of a higher. Tlie appetite for food or drink may
not be so indulged as to prevent tlie fullest activity
of the desire of knowledge or of power. The desire
of power may not become so engrossing as to dwarf
the affections or stifle any claim of justice or of
right. Napoleon cared nothing for appetite, but
was gluttonous of power. When a man chooses the
object of any lower power for his supreme end, that
determines his character, his energies are directed
to that, his development is around it, and he be-
comes unsymmetrical, as a tree whose upward sap
is arrested and expands it into a deformity. This
most men do. They lack the controlling and
directive power needed to keep the faculties in
lu/x^rdination, and even if they choose the highest
144 MORAL SCIENCE.
end are long in bringing moral symmetry into theii
lives. Only when this is done are they in a con-
dition to exert the highest unconscious influence
over others, and when this is done, this influence is
more efficient than any other.
The direct power of man over nature is slight
compared with that which he gains throu jh her own
forces. The same is true of society. As God in-
tended man to be a social being. He implanted in
him those principles by which he may have a com-
mon life, and through which that life may be reached
ind modified throughout a nation, and for ages.
Among these principles is that sympathy and un-
conscious imitation by which families and nations
are assimilated, and to reach, as it may be done, the
common life through this is the sublimest work of
man.
It is in early life that this unconscious imitation
is most operative. Every child is a Chinese. Give
him a cracked saucer for a model, and he will make
a cracked set. The child needs formal teaching by
words, but his principles are formed and practical
habits moulded chiefly by that action of those
around him which expresses their inner life. From
this there is a subtle and pervasive influence that
no direct teaching can counteract. It is thus that
families, neighbornoods, sections of country an
reached and assimilated, and to this all contribute.
It is through this that great men, men great in
character and action, reach their highest influence
DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 146
riiey are simply set in the firmament of the past,
and shine.
Doubtless the power of a book, of the word spoken,
of mere teaching, is great, but this silent shining
addresses different principles, and under different
conditions. Power is from the inner life in its in-
tegrity, and this is most perfectly and certainly
revealed by action. Hence " Example is better
than precept." The word not weighted from the
life sounds hollow. Hence the folly as well as guilt
of attempting to substitute anything for that thor-
ough sincerity of character from which alone good
iniluences can legitimately flow.
We here find a special danger to preachers, and
to all who teach professionally or formally. They
are tempted to " say and do not." There is no
surer way to destroy self-respect and bring such
teachings into contempt. Against such teachers
the Bible denounces its heaviest woes. " Woe
unto you Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for ye
devour widows' houses, and for a pretense make
long prayers : therefore ye shall receive the greater
damnation."
CHAPTER III.
PERFECTION AS RELATED TO COMPLACENCT.
The third way of benefiting others through a
care for our own state, is by awakening in them th»
'oy of complacency.
L46 MORAL SCIENCE.
Under the former head we regarded man as
active, with powers to be addressed ; under this we
regard him as having susceptibilities. Our object
then was action, character ; it is now enjoyment.
The highest susceptibilities are moral, and it is
from manifestations of moral character that we
have our highest enjoyment through the susceptibili-
ties. Through these we have the love of compla-
cency, the sense of moral beauty and grandeur,
esteem, veneration, and the emotions which, in
their highest form, become worship.
For the susceptibility to natural beauty and
grandeur God has provided. Nature is full of ob-
jects that correspond to this ; it is among our
purest and best sources of enjoyment, and is the
forerunner and type of the higlier enjoyment from
the beauty of holiness. But the moral susceptibili-
:ies can be awakened only by character. For these
the great provision is in God himself, whose charac-
ter is perfect ; but aside from this, these susceptibili-
ties may be drawn out in high activity by human
character. If all people were to reflect the image
of Christ in their radical character, the ideals of
literature and art, or rather something more beau-
tiful and better, would live and act before us, and
no one can estimate the enhanced joy from mora.
beauty.
It is an office of Love to increase material beauty
She smiles upon the marriage of taste with industry
She would esteem it a crime to mar nature ; she
DUtlES TO OURSELVES. 14?
would, if possible, restore tlie beauty of Eden.
How much more then must Love feel under obliga-
tion to increase moral beauty ; how much more a
crime to diminish it. In a community whose moral
nature is developed, high moral character is the
purest, the best, the amplest contribution to mere
enjoyment that can be made. It is better than
pictures or statues or landscape gardens. Such a
contribution every man can make by attending to
nis own state, and it is among the more imperative
obligations of Love to do this.
That this end of love would be most fully
reached by our perfection, is too plain to need
enforcement. Everywhere the highest complacency
demands perfection.
CHAPTEE IV.
PBRFECTION AS BELATED TO THE GLOET OF GOD.
We have thus seen that our own perfection in
a condition of our best ministrations to others in
each of the three ways in which it is possible for
us to minister to them, and that love would there-
fore oblige us to seek that perfection. We are also
under obligation to seek it, because it is a conditi(jii
of our most folly glorifying God.
God is glorifiea by the manifestation of his per
fections. In the products of his wisdom and power
He is glorified, as tliey are seen to be perfect. He
148 MORAL SCIENCE.
is more glorified as He himself is seen to be perfect
in his moral character and government, and as He
is loved and obeyed by creatures made in liis image.
This love and obedience are the sum of human duty :
they are perfection. They are also the glorifying
of God, and, it may be added, the enjoying of Him.
Tliat God should be glorified by us voluntarily, and
enjoyed in any other way, we cannot conceive. In
this view of it, therefore, perfection can hardly be
said to be a condition of glorifying God. It is the
glorifying of Him.
CHAPTER V.
PERFECTION AS RELATED TO SELF-LOVE.
From the above it appears that love to others and
to God would require us to seek our own perfection.
But this is just what would bo required by a reason-
able self-love, and is there no place for that ? Yes ;
and we here reach the point, not only of the recon-
ciliation of self-love with benevolence, but of their
convergence. Self-love is legitimate. Our own good
IS of intrinsic value, and we are especially bound
to care for it as it is that part of the universal
good which is more especially intrusted to us. God
eares for it, and why not we ? In doing this wft
have reason to believe that we not only work with
Him for our own good, but as He himself works,
* From hence, also, it is evident," says Edwards, in
DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 149
his " Treatise on the Nature ofVirtue," " that the
divine virtue, or the virtue of the divine mind, must
consist principally in love to himself." If this be
correct, our virtue will consist in some degree in
love to ourselves. While, therefore, we allow self-
love a place in prompting efforts for our own per-
fection, it is a subordinate one.
It is worthy of notice that it is no part of the
divine law, as directly expressed, that we love our-
selves. It is simply implied in the command to
love our neighbor as ourselves. The reason
doubtless is the deep harmony there is between
loving God and our neighbor and loving ourselves.
So perfectly coincident are they as reciprocally re-
sulting, both and equally, from perfect powers act-
ing rightly, that if we love God and our neighbor
we do the very thing that self-love would, require,
and there is no need of enforcing a further law.
To love God and our neighbor is the best way of
loving ourselves.
CHAPTER VL
HABITS.
Ir. speaking of individual upbuilding and perfec-
tion, the subject of habits may not be omitted.
Habits presuppose original faculties and suscep-
Babits, ao- tibilitics by which acts are done and iin-
t!Lin. pressions are received independently o(
habit. They are formed by repeated voluntarj
150 MOnVl, SCIENCE,
action of the powers, and by repeated impressiona
Dn t]io sensibility. No man, therefore, is born with
habits, but every one has a tendency to form them ;
and, according to tlic distinction just made, tliey
will bo either active or passive.
Active liabits are formed by the repetition of
voluntary acts. It is an ultimate fact in ^^^^^
our constitution, that repetition, practice, '^*''"'-
use, produces, always facility in doing the acts re-
peated, and sometimes, in addition, a tendency to
do tliem. Facility and tendency, — these are the
results of acts voluntarily repeated, which required
at first careful attention and painful effort. Both
facihty and tendency are spoken of as the result of
liabit, but they need to be distinguished ; and we
also need to distinguish a tendency to do a thing in
a particular manner, from a tendency to do it at all.
By repetition one gains facihty in writing his name,
and a tendency, if he write it at all, to do so in a par-
ticular way ; but he does not gain a tendency to
write his name. For dohig that a rational motive
IS required. The same may be said of all acquired
skill. This is gained by the repetition of acts
giving facility, and a tendency to do the thing in a
particular manner. But in some cases a step further
is taken, and a tendency is acquired to do the thinj;
•tself. This may go so far that habitual action may
seem automatic, and not only not to be from the
will, but to be in opposition to it. It is this ten-
dencj/ which is more particularly spoken of aj
DUTIKS TO OI'ESKLVES. 151
•' liabit." This it is that may need to be guarded
against, or to be overcome.
Of sucli a constitution the object is evident. It
Object of is not to trammel us, or to reduce us to
ttBbits. routine, but to enable us so to incorporate
into our being tlie results of voluntary action as to
II vail oursehes of tliosc results with the least j)os-
sible attejition, and so that the mind may be free
to enter upon new fields of effort. This it is desir-
able to notice, because many writers have eidarged
the sphere of habit quite too niucli.
Such being the nature of active habits, and the
object of that constitution by which they are formed,
it is obvious, —
1. That men must be responsible for their habits,
Kespousi- and for all acts done from them. Not
liility for • r* 1 1 • •
habits. only do specific habits origniate in the will
as prompted by original and controlling faculties
that act independently of habit, but they can
never wholly escape from the control of will.
2. It is obvious that when men rest in any form
uabitscon- of habitual action, they defeat tlie end for
[fj^notto which the capacity for habits was given,
trammel uB. .^^rjjjpjj jg ^q gjyg freedom to cuter upon
new fields of activity. Habit, as habit, is automatic
and mechanical. It is simply conservative, while
man never reaches a point where conservatism is
not for the sake of progress. Hence, while we are
to seek by repetition all possible facility and power,
va are to guard sedulously against being broughl
152 MOKAL SCIENCE.
mto bondage to any tendency. It is sad to see the
power of rational will and free elioicu narrowed
tlown by any blind force, natural or acquired.
3. It is obvious that bad habits may be formed
as well as srood ones. In these there is
° . . . Bad habits.
a tendency to nicrease ni strength in-
definitely ; and when we have this accumulated
power thus added to the force of original passion,
we have a bondage the most fearful known. Hence
the wisdom of letting evil alone " before it be med-
dled with "
4. It is a point of wisdom to " set the habits,"
as Paley says, " so that every change may xhe'^set"
be a change for the better." In illustra- "''"'''"'
ting this he says that " tlie advantage is with those
habits which allow of an indulgence hi the devia-
tion from them. Tlio luxurious receive no greater
pleasure from their dainties than the ])easant does
from his bread and cheese ; but the peasant, when-
e\er he goes abroad, finds a feast ; whereas the
epicure must be well entertained to escajie disgust.
Those who spend every day at cards, and those
who go every day to plough, pass their time much
alike ; but then whatever suspends the occupation
of the card-player distresses him ; whereas to tiie
laborer every interruption is a refreshment ; and
this appears in the different effects that Sunday
produces upon the two, which proves a day of rec-
reation to the one, but a lamentable burden to ths
other." 1
> Uorai PhUoKphy, chap. vi.
DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 153
Passive habits, as has been said, are formed by re-
fwaiTe peated impressions. These, no less than
"■ active habits, have it for their end to regu-
late action. This they do by their effect both upon
the enjoyment and the suffering caused by impres-
sions. The end being action, the means are disre-
garded ; and emotions and impressions, both pleas-
ant and unpleasant, are moderated by such habits
when they vt'ould interfere with the best condi-
tion for action. The doctrme of Bishop Butler is
that, " From our very faculty of habits, passive
impressions, by being repeated, grow weaker.
Thoughts, by often passing through the mind are
felt less sensibly ; being accistomed to danger
begets intrepidity, — that is, lessens fear ; to dis-
tress, lessens the passion of pity ; to instances of
others' mortality, lessens the sensible •apprehension
of our own. And from these two observations
iogether, — that practical habits are formed and
strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive
impressions grow weaker by being repeated upon
us, — it must follow that active habits may be
gradually forming and strengthening by a course
of acting upon such and such motives and excite-
ments, whilst these motives and excitements them-
selves are by proportionable degrees growing less
sensible, — that is, are continually less and loss
sensibly felt, even as the active habits strengthen." '
This shows how needful it is that motives, excite-
1 Analogy, Fart I., chap. v.
154 MOKAL SCIENCE.
ments, sympathies, legitimately connected with ac-
tion, should be followed by sucli action, for no one
is so hardened and hofieless as he who has become
familiar with such motives without corresponding
action. " Going," says Butler, " over the theory
of virtue in one's thoughts, talking well, and draw-
ing fine pictures of it ; this is so far from neces-
sarily or certainly conducing to form a habit of it
in him who thus employs himself, that it may
liarden the mind in a contrary course, — that is,
form a habit of insensibility to all moral consid-
erations."
But while the above gives us the relation of
active and passive habits, and contains Qualification
. , , « 1 . of Sutler's
practical truth ot the utmost moment, it doctnoe.
may be questioned whether the doctrine of passive
impressions, as stated, does not require qualification.
No proof is given by Butler that " from our very
faculty of habits, passive impressions must grow
weaker." It is even conceivable that they might
grow stronger. The law applies to all that depends
on physical organization as now constituted, perhaps
goes further, but is not a necessary law of intellect
and sensitive being. Let that on which sensibility
de])ends remain unworn, as surely it may, and there
will be no reason wiiy the thousandth impressioii
ihonld not be as vivid as the first.
CLASS II.
DUTIES TO OUK FELLOW MEN.
Duties to our fellow men will fall into two great
livisions, wliicli wo shall treat separately, witb
livisions under each.
I. Duties to uien as men.
II. Duties growing out of special relations.
PKELIMINARY.
SELF-LOVE AND THE LOVE OF OTHERS.
In passing to these we must not omit to say that
Bt.f-iove as love to our fellow men requires atten-
ftnd love of . , . . ,
othoraro- tiou to our own Condition and state, so
ciprocally , . . .
derendent. seit-lovc reqmres attention to tlieir condi-
tion and state. If we can best minister to our fel-
low men only as we are perfect, tliey can best
minister to us only as they are perfect. As social
beings, our whole interest and enjoyment will de-
pend upon the condition and state of others, and
the promotion of their well-being is that of out
own. So intimate and reciprocally dependent are
a rational selt-love and a love of others. They are
not only not opposites. as son..:» linve supposed.
156 MORAL SCIENCE.
but are different pliases of one common principle,
equally necessary to the common end.
In our duties to others the law is that we shall
love our neighbor as ourselves. "We must tlien
do for him as we would for ourselves. But, as wo
have seen, we are to regard our own rights, to sup-
ply our wants, and to perfect and direct our powers
If, then, we would love our fellow men as we do
ourselves, we must —
1. Regard, and, if necessary, aid in securing
their rights ; —
2. Supply their wants ; and —
3. Do what we can to perfect and direct their
powers.
These will include, and in their order as lower
and higher, all our duties to our fellow men.
In these ways we are to "do good to all as we
I ;tve opportunity." But through rela- QrouoiJof
tiiiiis established by God, indicating the and duties,
ends not only of the individual, but of the family
lud of society, we are required, while we g[\ e to all
tlieir rights, to supply the wants and to seek to per-
fect and direct the powers of some rather than of
others. To empower us to do these more effec-
tually, we may have special rights over persons ;
we may owe them special duties ; and they may
have special claims and be under special obligations.
Tliis will give us what have been called the " rights
i)f persons " in distinction from the " rights of
things," and will require a separate consideratiop
if the rights and duties of the family and of society
FIRST GREAT DIVISION.
DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN.
DIVISION I.
DCTIES REGARDING THE RIGHTS OF 0THEB8.
CHAPTER I.
OF RIGHTS.
We are now prepared to pass to the consideration
jf riglits.
Of rights tlic correlative is obh'gatioii, and tlie
obhgatioiis corresponding to rights give tlie lowest
form of duty to otliers. For the most part riglits
are guarded by negative precepts, the command
being " Thou shalt not." They belong to others
already, and can be taken or withheld from them
only by positive injury. This love can never do.
The least that love can do for others is to respect,
B,nd concede to them, all their rights; and no one
who violates or withholds the rights of another can
eonsistently claim tc be benevolent toward him.
That we give to otliers their i-ights, is therefore the
Droper condition of all higher forms of duty.
158 MOliAL SCIENCE.
As actions are right from tlieir relation to an end,
BO all rio-lits are founded in the relation of those
things to whicli men have a right, to some joundadon
end indicated through our nature, and to "' "*'"''■
be attained either by ourselves or others.
For every active principle in man, for everj
natural desire, affection, or capacity, indicating an
end to be attained, there is a corresponding natura.
right ; and these rights are higher or lower accord-
ing to the dignity and sacredness of the end, or
which is the same thing, of that part of our nature
in which they originate. Thus the 'e ax'e rights
which would secure the attainment by instinct of
its ends, and by the appetites of their end. And
so of the desires, and of the intellect, and of the
natural affections, and of the moral and spiritual
nature. Whoever is permitted to pursue unob-
structedly all the ends indicated by these several
active principles, has all his rights ; and in doing
so he has a right to have and to do everything that
will not interfere with the rights of others. If ob-
structed on any other ground, he would not have
all his rights. Having endowed man with active
pi-inciples, the purpose of God evidently was to
place him in such conditions that he should be in
liiced, required, and enabled to secure the ends
indicated by tjiose principles ; and when in the
pursuit of those ends he is arrested by any mter-
f(Mvnce with siicli divinely constituted conditions
tiie indignant protest which arises in the breast of
■^"ery man is the voice of God in the assertion o)
DUTJLES TO OUB FELLOW-MEN. 159
rights. We are so constituted that, in apprehend-
ing the relation between these active principles and
their ends, the moral reason necessarily forms the
idea of rights.
Rights, as thus founded, are of several kinds.
And 1st, There are what have beL-a called
Kinds of "rights of things " and "rights of per-
"«'''*• sons." This is a radical distinction, and
needs to be clearly understood.
Men have a right to tilings that they may be
enabled to attain their own ends. They have
rights over persons that they may enable those per-
sons to attain their ends. Rights of things are to
guard against the encroachment of otliers, and
their sole correlative is obligation on the part of
others. From the use of anything to which one
man has a right, others are under obligation to ab-
stain, and ti) abstain wholly. Of rights over others,
having it for their object to enable them to attain
liioir end, the correlative is still obligation on the
part of others ; but tliey also involve obligation on
the part of him in whom tiie right vests to those
others. Tiie parent has a right over the child, and
Ihe child is under obligation to respect that right ;
but the parent is also himself under obligation to
the child to use that right solely for the end for
A'hich it was given.
As rights have theit foundation in their relation
Limit of *" ^^ ®'^*^' ®° t^^.y fi"<i their limit in tlie
''*'"' same relation, Relative.y to others a man
IGO yiJliAL SCIENCK.
may have a right to do what he will with Iiis own,
but in truth and before God, no man has a right
to use anything except for the end for whicli it was
given. No man has a right to destroy his property
wantonly, or to use it foolishly, though no other
man may have a right to prevent him.
Here, too, we find not only the foundation, but
he Hmit of all rights of government whether human
r diviuo. If any being be in a position to secure
his own ends independently of all others, then no
other being can have any rights over him. It is on
this ground that any right over God is impossible,
and his right over his creatures as moral Governor
is not from his relation to them as Creator and Pre-
server, as these relations are simply from his power,
but it is from his capacity and disposition to do for
them what is necessary for the attainment by thein
of their end. Moral governuient is by law, and )io
man will say that it would be right in God to give
his creatures a law that would lead them astray in
seeking their supreme end. So far as we can un-
derstand it the whole end of the moral government
jf God is to lead his creatures to the attahiment by
them of that end. If any one should fail of this
(llimately and finally, and it should appear that God
had not ])rovided conditions by which it was possible
Cor him to attain it, the fault would not be in the
i-riviture. But there will be no such failure. No
creatuie shall ever be able to charge such a failure
ipon God. Hence the righteousness of his govern-
DUTIKS TO OUlt FELLOW-MEN. 161
meiit, liis riglit under tliat government to control
liis creatures, and the guilt of theii- rebellion. In
the same way parents and civil rulers, holding rela-
tions established by God, through which their aid is
indispensable to others in the attainment of their
ends, have rights over them, but only for the attain-
ment by them of those ends. If any man make use
of another for his own ends simply, he uses him as
a thing. Tiiis, when done by an individual, is
slavery ; when done by a government, it is tyranny.
Rights, again, are natural, and adventitious.
Rights Natural rights are both of things and of
•d'eDti-""' persons. They are those which would
«ous. belong to man if there were no civil
government. A man has a natural I'ight to those
means and conditions of good which God has pro-
vided to enable him to secure his end, such as air,
light, water, the unappropriated products of tlie
jarth and waters, and the fruit of his own labors.
Parents have also a natural riglit to tlie obedience
and respect of their childi-en, and children to the
love and care of their parents, because these grow
out of natural I'elations. Adventitious rights are
those which grow out of civil society. No man is
naturally a ruler, or judge, or sheriff, or legislator.
These have rights as such, but they are adven-
titious. So also are many of the rights of property.
Rights are also alienable and inalienable. Alien
Bights auen- able rights are tnose which may be law-
iiteubie. lully transierrja to another. We do no)
11
162 MOBAL SCIENCE.
here inquire what others may unlawfully do m de-
priving us of rights, which will still be ours and
may again be exercised when we have the power,
but what we may do in transferring to others rights
which will cease to be ours. The ground of this
diftinction will be found in the ends which these
rights respect. All rights from the ?'iwer powers,
as the desires and natural affections, that do not
respect the supreme end, are alienalrS. A man
may transfer to another his property, or his right
over his child. But a man has an inalienable right
to himself in the use of all those means and condi-
tions which are necessary to the attainment of his
supreme end. These he cannot alienate, and no
one can rightfully deprive him of them. No man
may lower his true manhood ; but if, without doing
this, he can alienate or part with anything, he is at
liberty to do it.
If the foundation of rights has been correctly
stated, it will follow that the rights of all ^^^^^
men are equal. As rights are foundeil "*'"°'
»n ends indicated by active principles, if men have
I ommon active principles and a common end, tiiat is,
if tiiey are men, they must have common and equal
rights. This is the doctrine of the Declaration of
Independence, and the foundation of republican
nstitutions. The condition in which men are
bom, and their natural endowments, may be of the
greatest diversity, but the riglit of one human boinc
to all the means and conditions given him by Go(^
DUTIES TO OUK i'KLLOW-MEN. 163
lur atiiiiuiiig his ends must rest on the same ground,
ami Ijo as perfect and sacred as tliat of any oilier.
Tiiat men have equal riglits has been regarded as
self-evident, but some confusion has arisen from not
distinguishing clearly between the rights of things
Bijthta of and of persons. As regards rights of ])er-
persons to SOUS a practical evasion has been attempted.
liDBuisUed. All children, it is said, are indeed born with
equal rights, but, as unable to secure their own ends,
they need for a long time to be under guardianship,
and if there are persons or races who are under the
same need, they may be treated in an analogous way.
This is true, but before the desired application of
it may be made, it must be shown that such persona
are really unable to take care of themselves. There
are idiots and incompetent persons who must be
thus cared for, but to suppose large classes or races
to be left thus and without natural guardianship
would be an imputation upon Providence ; there
are no such races. It must also be shown that any
such assumed guardianship is a rightful one, and
will secure its legitimate ends. Such a guardian-
ship for tiie ends of those over whom it is assumed,
would not be coveted. The law of love would re-
quire us first to give all persons their rights, and if,
Hfler a fair trial, they are unable to take care of
themselves, then to have guardians appointed by
lawful authority, and for their good. This would
')e wholly contrary to the spirit of slavery, which
consists in using persons as things, and for our owp
ends.
164 ilOKAL SClJiNCK.
The rjglits which men, all men, thus have as em-
powered of God to secure their own ends,
ai'e those of Justice and of Truth, which
last is also a form of justice.
As between man and man, justice consists in con-
ceding and rendering to every one all his rights.
He who has all Ills rights has no injustice done him.
Divine Justice consists not only in this, but also in
rendering to every one his deserts. Tliese two
forms of justice are entirely distinct. Desert of
punishment depends upon guilt ; but with guilt as
such and in distinction from injury to the individual
and to society, man cannot deal. Tliat depends
upon the heart, whicli he cannot know and can
have no claim to regulate. Man looks on the act
and infers the motive. He may not punish ex-
cept on the presumption of a bad motive, but his
punishment must be graduated, not by the pre-
sumed badness of the motive, but by the tendency
of the act to injure society. God, on the other hand,
looks at the motive and disregards the act. He sees
and punishes guilt in intention where there is no
outward act. Hence " Vengeance belongs to Him."
He only can administer punitive justice. Man may
guard rights ; he may prevent any violation of them
m the name of justice and within its limits. And
the sentiment of justice within him may find satis-
faction in such punishment, but the measure of pun-
ishment by him must be found in its necessity to
i^uard the rights of society, and not in any satis-
DUTIES TO OUR FELLOW-MEN. 165
faction of absolute punitive justice. Any otlier
right can be had only from direct revelation.
We now pass to consider more particularly the
rijrhts which belong to all men.
But in doing this we must notice an element
BecurUyan ^^'bich enters into our conception of all
theTouUp- '"'gilt* — ^^^^^ °^ security. Tlie right to
lion of right, gpcm-ity in the possession and use of any-
thing rests on the same ground as the right to the
thing itself, since the end on which the right is
based cannot be fully attained without this. With-
out security there is no enjoyment or free use of
anything, and jjerfect security alone gives its full
value to a ])ossession. This is the element and con-
dition in connection with our rights which we
value more than any other. Heuce this element is
recognized in law ; and if there be good reason to
believe that any one will violate the rights of others,
he may be bound over to keep the peace.
CHAPTER II.
PERSONAL RIGHTS : LIFE AND LIBERTY.
ShCUKiTY being thus implied in all rights, the
first class wliich we shall notice is those of the
Person.
Every person has a right to life, and to such
security and freedom as will enable liim to attain
the several ends indicated by his active powers.
On the riglit to life all otliers depend. This is
the first guarded in the Decalogue. It is ^^ ^^^^^
also the first mentioned in the Declaration "''■
of Independence, wliere it is said to be inalienable.
It is so. It may be forfeited for crime ; it may be
surrendered for the sake of principle or of humanity,
but cannot be alienated for a consideration.
How, then, may the right to life be so forfeited
:liat others may have the right to take it uo„f„.
iiway ? *''^'**-
This may be done in four ways, and
1. By attempting the life of another. The righi
to take life in defending life is recognized by the
la^vs of all countries and by all persons, except a
few extreme non-resistants.
%. The right to life may be forfeited by attempt-
PEBSONAL EIGHTS: LIFE AND LIBERTY 167
fng house-breaking or robbery in the night. The
law jjroperly makes a distinction between sucli
attempts bj day and by night, and in the latter
case justifies tlic taking of hfe. Still every such
attL'inpt will not make this morally right, and for
such cases no general I'ulo can be laid down.
3. Tiie right to life may be forfeited by resisting
the officers of the law. If officers of the law aiu
resisted in its execution, they have a right, as a last
resort, to take life. If a mob which they have
been commanded to disperse, will not disperse, they
have a right to fire upon it.
4. The right to life is forfeited by murder, that
is, by taking life with malice aforethought.
The death penalty was early authorized and de-
manded by the Bible, not from cruelty, but on the
very ground of the sacredness of human life.
" Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his
blood be shed, for in the image of God made He
nMn." The estimate placed by a lawgiver upon
any right, can be measured only by the penalty by
which he guards it ; and as death is the highest
possible penalty, they who impose this show the
highest possible estimate of the value of life. That
is a sophism by which those who reject this penalty
would persuade themselves or the community that
m so doing they are more humane than others, or
Bet a higher value on human life. It is the reverse.
But the right to take life can depend upon nr.
estimate of its value by us. It must come cither
directly or indirectly from God, •— du'cctly by rev-
168 MORAL SCIENCE.
elation, and indirectly from its necessity to the
ends of government. Government is from God,
and has thus a right to do what is essential to its
own being and ends ; and if the secm-ity which is
its great end can be attained only by the death of
those who would destroy it, then society may put
them to death. Society has thus the right, and
must judge how far, in the varying phases of civil-
ization and Christianity, it may be necessary to use
it.
The rights of the Person are also infringed by
any violence actual or attempted. An assault is
violence attempted. Battery is any degree of vio-
lence, even tlie slightest touch in anger, or for in-
sult. Violence may also result in wounding or in
maiming the person attacked.
Under rights of the person is also included, —
the Right to Liberty. By this is here Right to
meant, not freedom of choice, but the '"""^y-
liberty of external action in carrying out our choices.
It is the right to do whatever any one may choose,
provided he does not interfere with the rights of
another.
Liberty to tliis extent is plainly essential to the
end of man as a responsible being, and hence a
natural right. It is also inalienable so far as it is
necessary to the highest end of any man ; but if
by parting with some portion of it, — for even
slavery does not wholly take it away, — a man can
bottur subserve the great ends of love, he is a1
liberty to do it.
CHAPTER III.
EIGHT TO PROPERTY.
The Right to Property reveals itself through an
itafounda- Original desire. The afHrmation of it is
"'"'' early and universally made, and becomes
a controlling element in civil society.
The sense of this right, thus originally given, is
deepened by observation and reflection. Without
this society could not exist. With no right to the
product of his labor no man would make a tool, or
a gai'ment, or build a shelter, or raise a crop.
There could be no industry and no progress.
It will be found too, historically, that the general
well-being and progress of society has been in pro-
portion to the freedom of every man to gain prop-
erty in all legitimate ways, and to security in its
possession. Let the form of the government be
what it may, if there but be freedom of industry,
and security in the possession and enjoyment of its
results, there will be prosperity
The laws of every government relate largely to
propert3\ They regulate the modes of it? acquisi-
h'on and transfer, and punish violations of the right.
Tlie acquisition of property is required by lovfe.
170 MORAL SCIENCE.
because it is a powerful moans of benefiting otherB.
There is no giving without a previous get- pmperty to
ting. A selfish getting of property, though ^'^i^^
better than a selfish indolence or wastefulness, is
not to be encouraged ; but the desire of property
working in subordination to the affections should
be. Most blessed would it be if all the desires
could thus work, but especially this. Industry,
frugality, carefulness, as ministering to a cheerfii^
giving, would then not only be purged from all
taint of meanness, but would be ennobled. " There
have," says Chancellor Kent, " been modern
theorists, who have considered separate and ex-
clusive property as the cause of injustice, and the
unhappy result of government and artificial insti-
tutions. But human society would be in a most
unnatural and miserable condition if it were pos-
sible to be instituted or reorganized upon the basis
ol such speculations. The sense of property is
graciously bestowed upon mankind for the purpose
of rousing tlieni from sloth and stimulating them to
action. It leads to the cultivation of the earth, the
nstitution of government, the establishment of jus-
tice, the acquisition of the comforts of life, the
growth of the useful arts, the spirit of commerce,
the productions of taste, the erections of charity,
and the display of the benevolent affections."
Property may be acquired, —
1. By appropriating so much of those things
vhicli God lias given to all as we need for oui
RIGHT TO PROPERTY. 171
own use. Some things which God has given to all,
Direct modes as air and sunlight, cannot be appropriated,
.f acquiring ^ ' -r.
property. and SO Cannot become property. But
the spontaneous fruits of the earth, the products of
the waters, and so much land as may be necessarj
for individual support, and as shall be permanently
occupied, may, by appropriation, become property.
2. Property may be acquired by labor.
Labor is the chief source of value, and the
laborer has a right to the value he creates. This
is a natural right resulting directly from a man's
right to himself. It may not be easy, it is not, to
adjust the questions that arise between the claims
of accumulated labor in the form of capital and of
labor directly applied, or wages ; but the principle
is, that the value created should be shared in pro-
portion ±0 the labor represented or applied.
In the above ways property may be acquired
Indirect directly. It may also be acquired indi-
"""O*"- rectly, and —
1. By exchange. This may be either by barter,
which is an exchange of commodities ; or by bargain
and sale, in which the purchaser gives money.
2. By gift. The right to give away property is
involved in the right of ownership.
3. By will. The right to bestow property by
will is admitted in all civilized countries. This ia
natural and beneficial to society. The right how-
ever is not absolute, but may be so limited by Jaw
as not to counterwork the general snirit of the in-
ititutions of a country.
172 MORAL SCIENCE.
4. By inheritance. When persons die intestate,
tlieir property is inherited by tlieir relatives in
accordance with law.
5. By accession. " This is the right to all that
one's own property produces, whether that property
be movable or immovable, and the right to that
which is united to it by accession either naturally
or artificially. This includes the fruits of the earth
produced naturally or by human industry, the in-
crease of animals, and the new species of articles
made by one person out of the materials of another."
" Also title by alluvion, or the deposit of earth by
natural causes." ^
6. By possession. To prevent litigation the laws
properly fix a limit beyond which a man shall not
be disturbed in the possession of property, however
it may have been acquired. This gives no moral
right, but is what is called " right by possession."
The right of property is exclusive. No man, no
state, has the right to take it away without ^^^ ^ ^^
an equivalent, and the owner has a right ^^'=''^'™
to put it to any use he may please that is consistent
with the rights of others.
Property may be real or personal. Real estate
consists of lands and of appurtenances, as Property
houses, trees, shrubs, that cannot be easily sonai.
moved. All other property is personal.
With the exceptions to be mentioned hereafter
ihe right of property is violated if it be taken witb
^ Kent*B Qmimeniariet.
RIGHT rO PROPERTY. 173
out tlie free consent of the owner; or if througn
Phis right concealment or deception the owner fail
how tIo*
lilted to have a full knowledge of the equiva-
lent offered. If property be taken with consent
enforced by fear, or by violence without consent, it
is I'obbery.
If taken by forcibly entering a dwelling in the
night, it is burglary.
If simply taken without the knowledge or con-
sent of the owner with no violence, it is theft.
If pi'operty be taken, and through concealment
or misrepresentation the owner be ignorant of the
equivalent offered, it is cheating.
If the equivalent offered be a foi'ged paper, it is
fraud. The line between fraud and cheating is not
sharply drawn. In a large sense they cover the
same ground, but while there is fraud in all cheat-
ing, yet forgery is a fraud, and not cheating.
If property be taken with consent obtained by
lying or deception without an equivalent, it is ob-
taining property under false pretences.
Of these, robbery, as violating both the rights of
person and of property, is the highest crime. As
violating both the rights of security and property,
burglary comes next. The others are criminal in
the eye of the law, for that is the only criminality
that can here be estimated, as they tend to unsettle
the right of property and disturb the order of
wciety, and this tendency may vary with time ana
tircumstances.
174 MORAL SCIENCE.
The right of property is exclusive, but as it is an
inferior good, it may not stand in the way (jjoand of
of the great interests of the community, or ferei™^h
of the hfe of the individual. Hence the "^'"k*"-
community have the right, provided for and asserted
under all governments, of taking in a legal way,
and for a fair equivalent, private property for the
convenience and safety of the public. And indi-
«duals have the right to take property as food to
preserve life.
It is commonly said that the right of property
precludes the taking of the least thing without the
consent of the owner, but consent may sometimes
oe presumed. The rule is to take nothing we
should not be willing the owner should see us take.
To take an apple in passing through an orchard is
not stealing.
In the ways above mentioned property is wrong-
fully taken. It may be taken rightfully with the
I'ree consent of the owner, whether as a gift or for
an equivalent. If for an equivalent, it may be by
exchange or by purchase.
The law of exchange, as already indicated, is
chat each party should have a full knowl- j^^ ^^ ^^
edge of that which is offered as an equiva- "•'"''«''•
lent. In exchange intrinsic values are not consid-
ered, but the convenience or taste of the parties
Hence a fair transaction can require nothing bu
freedom from constraint, and a full knowledge b^
aach party of the equivalent offered.
RIGHT TO I'KOl'ERTy. 175
The law of exchange by purchase, or of buying
unci selhng, is the same, so far as the seller is con-
cerned, as that of simple exchange, except that a
trader is bound to ask for that in which he professes
to deal, no more than the market-price. A fair
transaction requires tliat there sliall be no conccal-
niunt or deception in the article sold, that no more
than tlie market-price be demanded, and that no
improper motive, as vanity, or a depraved appetite,
be appealed to. In selling an article in which he
does not profess to deal, a man may ask what he
pleases.
Property may be permanently and rightfully
alienated, by gift, by exchange, and by
sale. It is also permanently alienated by
gambling. Tiiis has different forms. In some cases,
as in dice and in lotteries, it is simply an appeal to
chance. In others, as in cards, there is a mixture
of chance and skill. In others, as in betting, of
chance and judgment. In all cases the object is
gain without an equivalent, and while tliere is such
gain on one side there is, on the other, loss without
compensation. In legitimate trade both parties aio
benefited ; in gambling but one. Legitimate trade
requires and promotes habits of industry and skill;
gambling generates indolence and vice, and stimu-
ates a most infatuating and often uncontrollable
lassion. It is wholly selfish, and wholly injurious
.11 its effects upon the r-ommunity. That a practice
thu» inherently vicious should be resorted to fo;
176 MORAL SCIENCE.
charitable purposes, does not change its character,
but only tends to confound moral distinctions.
But arc all appeals to chance in the distribution
■j{ property rambling ? Not necessarily, Aiionation
,„?,. . ^ , of property
if we define it by its motives and results, by chnuce
rt . XT ■ T • 1 1 not always
A picture is given to a fair. No individual gauiuung.
will o-ive for it its value : that value is contributeu
by a number, and the picture disposed of by lot.
This differs from an ordinary lottery : 1st, Because
there are no expenses, and all that is given goes for
ail object which the parties are gathered to promote.
2d, The prize is given so that nothing is taken for
prizes from the amount paid in, but the whole goes
for the j)roposed object. 3d, This may be done
from a simple desire that the fair should realize the
worth of its jjropeity and so benevolently. And
4tli, Appeals to chance under these conditions are
not likely to be so frequent or general as to en-
danger the habits of the community. All this may,
and should, in fairness, be said. It should also be
said, 1st, That no form of charity should be tolerated
for a moment that in the actual state of a com-
munity will foster a spirit of gambhng. It should
be said, 2dly, Tliat any attempt to promote a benev-
olent object by an appeal to selfish motives is
wrong. Benevolent giving is a means of Christian
culture, but selfish giving in the form of benevo-
lence is a deception and a snare. If the cause of
lienevolence cannot be supported benevolentlj^ it
lad better not be supported at all. Any othej
RlGUl TU i'KUl'liBlV. 177
mode of supporting it will dry up its fountains.
While therefore we do not say that all appeals to
chance in the distribution of property are gambling,
we do say that all combinations and arrangements
to cause persons to give money for benevolent ob-
jects otherwise than benevolently are wrong, and
more especially if they tend to promote a spirit of
gambling.
But not gambling only, speculation also requires
attention in its relation to morals. In
bpeculation. n-^ o ■ i • J ir
some or its forms, as m buynig and selang
stocks, or wheat, when there is no delivery, vs^hat
is called speculation is mere gambling. It is sim-
wTiatia ply betting; on the question of a future
tailed spocu- , ? r, ■ , .
lation. market price. But in speculation, as dis-
tinguished from gambling, the speculator does not
expect to get something for nothing. There is
a bargain and a transfer of what each party ac-
cepts as an equivalent. Speculation is purchase or
sale in the expectation of a change of prices. With
fixed prices, which are the basis of ordinary profits,
it is impossible. The problem here is to give
enterprise and sagacity a fair field without vio-
lating the law of love. And 1st, If the ground on
which a change of prices is expected is equally
Vnown, or accessible to both parties, all agree that
the transaction is fair. 2d, If one party has the
power to cau?e fluctuations in price, and buys of
«ells with the intention of doing this, all will agree
that this is swindling. But 3d, If there be f
1.78 MOBAL SC1£NC£.
certainty that there will be a rise of price in
consequence of an event known only to the pur-
chaser, then tlie inquiry is whether he may avail
himself of his knowledge. On this opinions differ.
It may be said on the one hand that the owner
receives full compensation for his property as esti-
mated by any price he may have given for it, any
labor he may have bestowed upon it, or any expec-
tations he may have formed from it, and that if
there is to be an increase of value without labor —
if somebody is to gain without loss to anybody, it
may as fairly be the man who by his enterprise or
good fortune has the knowledge as he who has the
property. It may be said on the other hand that
when a man raises a crop, he does it with the ex-
pectation of any advantage that may accrue through
unforeseen events, and that for a quicker or more
fortunate man who has bestowed upon it no labor
at all, to step in and seize an advantage that would
have been his in the natural course of events is
not strictly honest, to say nothing of the law of
love.
In solving such cases, it may be said that society
k-iay be established and exist permanently cooperation
. , -, p . . and conipe-
(in two pnnciples — that or competition, HMon.
and tiiat of cooperation. The first has its advantaces,
and the evils of it are diminished as general intelli-
gence is increased. Under it the evils of ignorance
are felt pecuniarily, and intelligence is thus stimu-
lated. Under this system transactions like the
BIGHT TO i'KOl'ERTY. 179
»b(AX' \v(juld bo allowable. It is only transactiona
based on such a system that human law can regulate.
But the principle of cooperation is far higher, and
the results would be better. This would require
that each man should Ijc made acquainted with the
facts, and not only be permitted to act in view of
them, but be advised respecting them.
The above is a common case. There is anothei
less common and differing from it in one respect.
A man discovers a mine on the fai-m of another.
May he buy the farm and say nothing of the mine ?
In the above case advantajie would accrue to the
holders of the |)roperty despite the will of him who
had the knowledge, but here tiie whole increased
value comes from the knowledge and is dependent
upon it. May not he then who has the knowledge
avail himself of the whole of the increased value ?
So it would seem, and yet if men had confidence in
each other as disposed to act on the principle of
cooperation, the owner would be informed of the
facts, and would sliare the profits equally with hiir
H'ho informed him.
In connection with this subject it should be saio
that nothing tends more strongly to demoralize a
community than unsteady prices. It unsettles in-
dustry, and promotes a spirit of gambling ; and any
legislation that so' tampers with the currency, or
disturbs values in any way as to produce this, will
affect disastrously the moral, no less than the pecu-
aiary interests of the country.
180 MORAL SCIENCE.
But property is not only parted with pcrmanenth
bv sale or excliani-e, but also temporarily Temporerj
for a compensation. If it be money, it of property,
is loaned ; if real estate, it is rented ; if a horse, it is
let.
Money differs from other property in being
created by law for the public convenience. Hence
its amount, the conditions on which it may be
issued, and the rate of interest have always been re-
garded as proper subjects of legislation. The pub-
lic must have a right to prevent that which it creates
for its convenience from becoming an injury, but
the precise legislation required will be a question of
expediency rather than of morals. Where money
is abundant, and the amount in a country is large,
and especially in a commercial community, it may
be wise to permit men to take what interest they
fan, when under other circumstances it would not.
And banks, being created for the convenience of
tlie public, may be restricted in tiieir rate of interest
when individuals would not. Their possible com-
bination and power to control the currency may
•equire this. The rule is, that all possible fi-eedom
compatible with the public interest should be con-
ceded in their use of money both to banks and to
individuals. This being understood, bargains in
■egard to interest are to be regulated on the same
(irinciples as other bargains.
When money is loaned, money is to be returned
5ut when real estate is rented, or when horses ant
KIGHT TO I'ROPERTY. 181
carnages are let, tlie same property is to be re-
turned. Ill tlie mean time the property may be
abused ; and this gives rise to the rule in such cases
that it is to be used only for the purpose for which
it was rented or let, and that the same care is to
be taken of it that a reasonably careful man would
take of his own property. If, in connection with
such care, tliu property should be injured by acci-
dent in tlie use contemplated in tlie bargain, the
loss will fall on the owner ; if in any other use, on
the person in temporary possession.
Property is also often lent without compensation
simply for the convenience of the borrower. In
this case the lender is undei' obligation not to de-
mand it arbitrarily and witliout reference to the
specific use for which it was borrowed. The bor-
rower is under obligation to use the property with
rare and to return it promptly/.
CHAPTER IV.
RIGHT TO REPUTATION.
The next right that belongs to man is that of
Reputation.
Tlie desiic of esteem is as natural as that of
property, and is equally the foundation of a right.
With most it is a stronger desire, and so the foun-
dation of a right that is more precious. If there
are those who say with the Roman miser, —
" Populus me sibilat at milii plaudo,
Ipse (lomi simul ac nummos contcniplar in area,"
" The people hiss me, but I applaud myself at home,
while I gloat over my hoarded riches," — they are
but few. In the Scriptures a desire for tliis is en-
couraged, and it is set above property. " A good
name is rather to be chosen than gTeat riches, and
lovino; favor rather than silver and gold." With
many, reputation is dearer than life, and as society
is now constituted, the me.ms of enjoying life are
even more dependent on this than upon property.
If knowledge is power so is reputation, and espe-
cially is it power in tlie form of influence. If then
i man have sucli a possession, we may not dotrac'
from it except foi a good reason.
BIGHT TO KEPUTATION. 183
The most common mode in which the right of
[hi, tight reputation is violated is by slander. The
tatod™ Un- essence of this lies in diminishing the rep
*"■ utation of another without good cause,
whether by truth or falsehood. It was formerly a
maxim of law " the greater the truth, the greater
the slander." The reason of tliis was that tiie
truth tended more to injure reputation than false-
hood. Now, however, the courts accept the plea
of truth in mitigation of damages, and generally in
full justification. The malice or the mischief may
bo as great, or even greater, if only truth be told ;
but society is not bound to shield a man by its laws
from tiie natural results of his own acts when fairly
made known.
Slander may be mahcious, selfish, or inconsid-
erate. It is seldom probably from pure malice.
That is not the usual form of human wickedness.
Rut there is scarcely a position or occujiation in life
in which any considerable reputation will not so bring
him who has it into competition with others, that it
sliall either be, or be supposed to be, for their in-
terest to have it dimhn'shed. And as the facilities
for slander are almost unlimited, as the modes of it,
by insinuation, hints, injunctions of secrecj^ so tend
to veil its real nature, as 't has so many shades, and
as there is not the same danger of legal prosecution
as in taking from the property of another, our treat-
mert of others in regard to their reputation, when
tliey are in competition with us, becomes one of the
Saost trying tests of character.
184 MORAL SCIENCE.
Tlic test of cliaracter is however scarcely leas
levere under tlie temptations in the ordinary inter-
course of society to inconsiderate sJander. Tliere
is Iiere no malice, no competition, no special object,
but topics of conversation are needed ; there is
excitement in telling news, and words really slan-
derous are uttered uimiindful of the exaggerations
hat are sure to follow, and of the deej) wounds
they may give. In such a case lack of criminal
intention is no more an excuse than it would be in
a man who should throw the slates of a roof he
might be repairing into the street of a city careless
of the passers below.
Against the higher forms of slander a man of
average principle would be guarded, but it was
probably with special reference to these lighter
forms that the Apostle James says, " If any man
offend not in word the same is a perfect man and
able to bridle the whole body." Christians are re-
quired to lay aside " all evil speaking." They are
to be put in mind "to speak evil of no man." So
carefully do the Scriptures guard the sacred and
orecious right of reputation.
It would appear thus that there are two distinct
cases in speaking of others when reputa- Keptitation
tion is in question. In the one an indi- euJ/nSbed/
vidual lias a reputation, and we know of nothing he
has (lone either in gaining it or since it was gained
lint, if truthfully stated, wov.ld diminish it. To
diminish reputation in such a case would be to ado
RIGHT TO KEPUTATION. 185
the guilt of lying to that of slander. We have no
more right to do it than we have to steal. In the
second case an individual has a reputation, but wo
know things either in regard to his mode of gain-
ing it, or that he has done since, which, if truthfully
stated, would diminish or perhaps blast it. In this
case we are not only permitted to state what we
know, but are bound to do it when required to do
it by justice, or for the protection of the innocent,
or for the good of the offender ; but we are to do it
with the temper and limitations required by the law
of love.
But reputation may be diminished not only by
slander, but also by ridicule. The object
Ridicule. p , . . i rni •
or this IS to awaken contempt, ihis may
be proper when provoked by pretense or affectation,
by extravagance or absurdity, ])erhaps by persistent
awkwardness or carelessness, but never to bring
into contempt anything that is genuine. The mo-
ment this is done, — and it may be done towards any
man, — however keen the wit, or perfect tlie mimicry,
or droll the caricature, we obscure the distinction
between that which is reputable and venerable,
ind that which is contemptible, and tlius not only
wrong the individual, but undermine those higher
tentiments on which the stability of the community
depends. Ridicule is an effective weapon, but re-
quires care in its use, and out of its sphere is de
moralizing and dangerous.
CHAPTER V.
RIGHT TO TllUTH.
We have now considered the rights connuouly
mentioned as belonging to all men, — the generaJ
right to security, the riglit to life, to liberty, to
property, and to reputation. I aui inclined to say
there is still another — the right to truth.
This has the same foundation as other rights, that
is, in its necessity to men for the attainment by
them of their ends ; it is often so spoken of as to
imply that it is a right, as when one is said to have
no right to the truth, and in grave cases men are
put under oath and the riglit is enforced by law.
We should hence have naturally expected that it
would be regarded as a right and classed among the
others. Whewell does, indeed, place the right of
contract among the primary rights of men, and
bases it on the need of mutual understandins:. But
in that mutual understanding which is essential to
the order of society there is no jjroper contract.
Nor is such understanding by any means wholly
based on anything that can be called either a con-
tract or a promise. Men act on expectation based,
either, as in nature, on uniformity of causatioc
BIGHT TO TRUTH. 187
without ruference to obligation; or on confidence in
tlioso wlio liavc voluntarily excited expectation and
who feel, on that ground, bound not to disappoint
it. Which then is the prevalent element in the
affairs of life ? A man keeps a shop. Do I expect
to find it open during business hours because he is
under contract, or has promised to keep it open ?
No, he may shut it up for a holiday, as John Gilpin
did his, and break no contract ; or he may shut it
up indefinitely and give no notice. My expectation
in this, and in a multitude of similar cases, is based
on that uniform operation of motives, which, aside
from any sense of obhgation and in compatibility
with freedom, gives stability and consistency to con-
duct. It may be difficult, it is, to separate expec-
tation thus based from that which rests upon an
implied promise. This always exists vtfhen expec-
tation is voluntarily excited, and carries obligation
with it, and it is from the two combined that we
feel so secure of the uniform conduct of those
around us. So far, however, as a right exists in
this case, I should prefer to call it a right to truth
rather than a right of contract, though it is perhaps
of little consequence what we call it.
But such cases are on tlie same general ground
with others, in which there is certainly no contract.
A.11 human interests connect themselves witli truth.
As has been said, men act on expectation, and can
let successfully only a!= their expectations are well
founded, that is, as they are founded in trutii. Hul
188 MOKAL SCIENCE.
God has made men so dependent on each otner lor
information, that neither the ends of the individual
nor those of society can be attained unless the repre-
sentations which they make to each otlier are large-
ly true, and what I say is, that when any legitimate
end of another depends on his being told the truth,
he has a light to the truth. It must be so or there
are no rights. A traveller asks the right road.
Ho has a right to the truth. A child asks if a berry
be poisonous. It has a right to the truth, and such
cases are so numerous, that a right to truth seems
to me among the most sacred and important of our
lights.
But it may be asked, who shall decide when a
man has a right to the truth. In some cases the
law decides it. Wiiere it does not, the person of
whom it is demanded must decide. Certainly he
who asks an impertinent question, or any question
not essential to the attainment by himself of some
legitimate end, has no right to the truth, though
the absence of such right will not justify a lie.
A right to truth, as stated above, will include
that of contract whether express or implied.
If any say that a right which cannot be en-
forced is no right, it is replied that this is enforced
every time an oath is taken, for the only object of
nn oath is to enforce the truth ; and that this right
can be enforced quite as fully as the right to rep»
tatiot).
DIVISION II.
DUTIES REGAKUING THE WANTS OF OTHEKB
CHAPTER I.
JUSTICE AND BENEVOLENCE.
Having consitlorcd Riglits, we next pass to the
supply of Wants. This is tlie second great class
of duties required by love .is a law.
The transition here is from the duties of justice,
to those of benevolence. Between these there are
important differences. These were formerly indi-
cated by saying that the obligations and claims of
justice were ])erfect, while those of benevolence
were imperfect. But this form of expression was
objected to as weakening the force of obligation,
and of late the differences themselves have been
too much overlooked.
But it is one thing for a man to ask for the pay-
ment of a debt, and quite another, however great
may be his need, to ask for charity. In the first
case he has a right to the money, and the person
Dwing it is under obngation to j)av it on the ground
>f that right. In the second case the person asking
lias no right to the money, but it may still be right
190 MORAL SCIENCK.
for the person asked to give it, and lie may be
under obligation to do so. There may be a claim
of" liumanit}', if not of justice, and an obligation on
the ground of tliat claim where there is no right.
Hence the first difference between the duties of
justice and those of benevolence will be that one
respects rights, and the other right. These are gen-
erally coincident, that is, it is generally right for a
man to do what he has a right to do ; but they may
be opposed. A I'ich landlord may have a right to
collect his rent from a poor widow upon whom un-
expected and unavoidable misfoi'tune has fallen, and
take from her her last crust and her last blanket,
but it would not be rijrlit. The rent migjit be
justly due, the claim niiglit be valid in law, the law
might enforce it, and properly, for otherwise there
could be no law ; but it would not be morally
right.
A second difference, growing out of tlie first, is,
that as i-ights are capable of definition and precise
limitation, the obligations growing out of them may
be enforced by human law, whereas that which is
right, being incapable of such definition and limita-
tion, the obligation growing out of it cannot be thus
enforced. Hence the proper business of legislation
is to secure to all their rights, and not to oblige any
to do right. If there are courts of equity their
object is not to compel the doing of right, but to
(irevent the doing of wrong through the imperfcc>
tjni)s and under the forms of law. Tb«»f legislatior
JUSTICE AND BENEVOLENCE 191
should seek to pass from the guardianship of rights
to an attempt to compel the doing of right, is nat-
ural ; but this has seldom been done without con-
fusion and mischief.
A tliiril iliiFerencc between the duties of justice
and tlioso of benevolence is, that while rights are
tlie ground of a claim, and he in whom they vest
may propei'ly be indignant if the claim be not met,
he who asks aid as charity can never make a claim,
and has no ground for indignation if his claim be
refiised. It may be that the person asked is under
obligation to give, but of that he who asks is not
to be the judge. If he might be, two spheres
totally different would be at once confounded.
Goodness must be free to choose its own methods,
else it would not be goodness. The rich man who
refused all apphcants for aid, and lived in odium
that he might accumulate enough to sup])ly a city
vi'ith water, was afterwards justified and lauded.
He was under obligation to be beneficent, but was
at liberty to choose his own methods ; and even if
he had not chosen to recognize the obligation, it
was not for those who had no claim on him but that
of humanity to call him to account.
A fourth diflFerence is, that while a fulfillment of
the obligations corresponding to rights excites no
giatitude, a fulfillment of obligation in doing right
by supplying wants, does excite gratitude. Neman
i-i grateful for the payrapnt of a debt. It is simple
.nstice, and is, or should bo, a matter of course.
192 MORAL SCIENCE.
But if wants are gratuitoiisly supplied, even thougli,
as in the case of the good Samaritan, the benefactoi
could not fail of supplying them without a violation
of obligation, gratitude is felt. The reason is that
in the one case the man receives simply what is his
own, what he has a right to, and may claim ; and
this is always thus where simple justice is done.
The natural order of things, except as provided for
by tlie natural affections, is that every one should
have his rights and supply his own wants. In this
there would be no call for gratitude, while any
interference with this order by an infraction of
rights would awaken indignation. But when this
natural order lias been broken in upon, and there
is want or suffering for which he who gives relief
is in no way responsible, then the supply of that
want, and the relief of that suffering, can come only
from simple goodness ; and such goodness manifested
in behalf of any individual is the proper ground of
gratitude. Be it that the benefactor is under ob-
ligation to be good. The action of the moral
nature enters into, and forms a part of goodness.
But this obligation having been recognized, and
goodness, instead of its opposite, having been freely
chosen, the exercise of such goodness towards an
individual whose rights we have not violated, and
whose wants and sufferings are from no agency of
Durs, is a ground for gratitude, and all the grouna
^here can be. There is no contrariety, as some
teem to think, between a pervasive moral nature
JUSTICE AND BENEVOLENCE. 193
an the one hand, and the utmost freedom of choice
iind the fullest play of every generous affection on
the other. That these affections should have wide
scope is right, and if there be obligation it is only
to the choice of that which is inherently lovely in
the promotion of good.
13
CHAPTER II.
SUPPLY OF THE WANTS OF 0THEB8.
With this view of the differences between the
duties of justice and those of benevolence we pro-
ceed to consider what the law of love would require
in the supply of physical wants.
Give a person all his rights, and it is to be
expected that he will supply his own wants. From
the feebleness of infancy and of age, and from
sickness, this is, however, often impossible ; and
then, though there be no claim but that of human-
ity, love would require others to supply them.
Here two propositions are to be established.
The first is, that whenever a person has i^^^^^^
all his rights, and it is possible for him to SStTitent
supply his own wants, love not only does ^''"'J^-
ot require us to supply them, but positively for-
bids it if our doing so would encourage either indo-
lence or vice.
Intelligent activity is the great source of good to
man. It is the foundation of self-respect and of the
respect of others. Beauty of person and talent we
jdmire, but these are gifts. Will, intelligently
exerted for a worthy end, is the only object of
SUPPLY OF THE WANTS OF OTHERS. 195
*
approval. Mental attainments always, and wealth
generally, — the great means of doing good to
others, — depend on such activity. There is be-
sides, as the inseparable concomitant of such activ-
ity, a satisfaction of the highest kind, and that can
come in no other way. Of this activity, want is
the appointed stimulus. Opposed to it is indolence,
a besetting sin of the race ; the mother, not only
of imbecility, but of every vice — and in the stern
contest of God's ordinance of want with this sin,
(ove cannot interfere. An apostle commanded,
' If any would not work, neither should he eat."
The second proposition is that when it is im-
wheu^nts possible for persons to supply their own
rtppiie4°by wants, Love requires that they be sup-
' """• plied by others.
This impossibility as it appears in infancy, in sick-
ness, in disability from accident or sudden calamity,
».nd in old age, is divinely appointed as a part of
our condition here ; and over against it we find the
promptings and claims of natural affection, of friend-
ship, of neighborhood, and of humanity. In tlie
spontaneous play of these, if we could but exclude
indolence and vice, we should find an adequate pro-
vision for the supply of all wants. The wants and
liabihties of each would but tend to the union of
the whole, and the burden of their supply, if indeed
:t would be a burden, would not be greater than
the discipline of character would require. Nc
legislation would be needed. But indolence and
196 MORAL SCIENCE.
vice do exist, and from them come want and suffer-
ing that assume such proportions as to require
legislative action. May not, then, such want and
suffering be left to the provision made by law?
No ; and this for the sake of both parties.
Legislation can do much, but when its provisions
are best administered it is impersonal ; LegfaiaHon
not satH-
like the laws of Nature, it must go by cientuse-
? , ourethis
general rules, and so cannot touch the supply,
heart. It has in it the power of relief, but not of
reform. It may reach want, but not character, and
till that is readied nothing effectual or permanent
is done. The present life is not retributive, but
disciplinary, and when the laws of well-being have
been so far trans£iressed as to brine; want and suffer-
ing that call for charity, these should lead to refor-
mation. But this they seldom do. More often we
find either a liardened defiance or a languid and
hopeless discouragement. What is then needed is
such kindness and sympathy as will bring to the
poor and suffering and degraded the hope of res-
toration to his own self-respect, and to the respect
■and love of others. This can come only from a
manifestation of individual and personal interest.
Love begets love, and for all who can love there is
hope. If love thus manifested, and seconded bv
the natural fruits of transgression, will not work a
reformation, no human effort can avail.
Nor will the highest interests of the benefactor
uimself permit that the relief of want and suffering
SUPPLY OF THE WANTS OF OTHERS. 197
fro-.n indolence and vice should be left to legislation
alone. If we except the forgiveness of enemies, and
kindness to those injurious to us personally, there is
no way in which Christ can be imitated so closely
as by doing good to the degraded through their own
fault, and to those seemingly lost. There is no
achievement like that of lifting a man sunk in vice
and enchained by evil habits onto the high ground
of Christian manhood, and fixing him permanently
there ; and the more there is of sympathy, and of
effort for this, the more is the character improved.
For tlie sake of both parties then, we are for-
bidden to remit the care of the poor by their owr
fault to proyision made by law.
DIVISION III.
PERFECTING AND DIRECTING THE POWERS OF OTHER&
CHAPTER I.
DUTY OF INFLUKNCE FROM THE RELATION OF CHAK-
ACTEK TO WELL-BEING OBSTACLES TO CHANGE
OF INTELLECTUAL STATE AND OF CHARACTER
But we are not only to supply the physical wants
:jf men as we have opportunity, we are also to seek
to perfect and direct their powers.
In speaking of our duty to ourselves, nothing was
said of directing the powers, because they were sup-
posed to be under tlie direction of the law of love.
The inquiry was what love, supposed to exist,
would require us to do. But as a condition of well-
being, a right direction of the powers, so far as it
can be distinguished from perfection, is even more
important than that. It is necessary to progress
toward perfection.
There is here a distinction to be made between
the intellectual and moral jiowers. For the im-
provement of the moral powers the two conditions
of activity, and right direction, are requisite, but
ictivity alone is needed to improTe the intellectual
DUTY OF INILUENCK, ETC. Iflfl
powers. The Inirglar gains adroitness and skill in
picking tlie lock as rapidly as the lock-maker in
guarding against him. With given activity it
matters little for purposes of skill and efficiency
on wliat objects tlie intellect is employed, or for
wliat end. But if the moral powers are not em-
ployed on riglit objects and directed to a right
end, tJiere is not only perversion but deterioration.
The more active they are the more they deterio-
rate. If, therefore, we would do the highest good
to men we nmst seek, not only to perfect their
powers, but to perfect tlie moral powers by direct-
ing them riglitly. Our object must be to produce
a change not merely in tlie condition, but in the
state of men ; and not merely in their intellectual
state involving acquisitions and capacity, but in
their moral state which involves, or rather which is,
character.
And here, in character, whether we would con-
t'hir^tor"' suit for our own good, or that of others,
being"' we find that condition of well-being which
is to be singled out as " the one thing; needful."
It is to be distinguished from everything else —
from all dispositions and tendencies so native as to
be wholly independent of choice, and which, if they
lie back of choice, have yet no moral character till
they are sanctioned by that. It is to be distin-
guished from all characteristics, which are accidental
Peculiarities ; from acquisitions, which are what we
gain, whether of material or of power, character
6t'ing implied ; and from all accomplishments, which
200 MORAL SCIENCE.
are acquired perfections in ourselves, and means or
pleasing others, if we have a disposition to please
them. So far from consisting in any of these
tilings, it is this that controls and directs them all.
This can transform and renovate all dispositions,
can remedy all infelicities of temperament and of
temper. Character can triumph over the most ad-
verse circumstances, turning them into means of its
own advancement. Jt can transfigure and glorify
the humblest lot. It is the possibility of this in
our humanity, and its capacity for it that gives to
that humanity its highest value, and it is the higher
manifestations of this that give it its dignity. What
then is it ? It is the very essence, not of our sub
stantial being as given by God, but of ourselves as
having capacity to choose our own ends, and to
take our own ])luce in his universe. It is deter-
mined by and consists in our radical choice. It is
our deepest loxe. When we know what tlie su-
preme chosen end of any man is, we know his
character. This it is that determines his affinities
in the moral world where the attractions and re-
pulsions are stronger than they are in the physical
world. With this, the deepest, central love of its
being, right, Immunity comes into such a relation
to the Maker and Proprietor of all, that it enters
mUo the possession and inheritance of all things :
with this wrong, it not merely falls away into in-
:lill'erence to all that is good, but into repugnance
to it, and enters a realm of positive evil and suffei^
ing corresponding to the good of which it is capable.
DUTIr 01' INFLUKi^CE, ETC. 201
From thib relation of character to wull-being it
aiust be our duty to do what we can that tlie chai'-
acter of others should be right; but the intellec-
tual acquisitions and power of others, and especially
tlieir character, hold a relation to our efforts en-
tirely different from the supply of their wants. If a
rnan fail to supply his own wants we can do it with-
out his coijpei'ation, or at least, we can so provide
for tiicm that liis cooperation, unless he may choose
to commit suicide, is a matter of course ; but no
man can be benefited to any great extent intellec-
tually, or at all morally, without his own active co-
operation. We have direct power over matter, but
can reach mind only by influence. If any one
choose he can oppose a barrier to anything we can
do that we cannot overcome.
And not only so, there is a tendency in ignorance
_ . , and vice to erect such barriers. Mind has
Barriers to
iimirancc '^^^ ''*'* inerttcB as Well as matter. The
»ndvice. ignoraut pei'son sees what he sees and is
content with it. He is not content with the igno-
rance as such, but with knowledge, that is, witli what
he knows, and every person who is content with
what he knows is in the same condition, only ke
may be a little less ignorant. The man has knowl-
edge, it is his knowledge ; in the light of it he sees
»nd walks, he sees nothing beyond, and so desires
nothing. If this knowledge, however limited, be
connected with customs of long standing, so that in
the light of it the man walks where his fathers
^02 MOIJAL SCIENCE.
walked, and if enlargement of knowledge would
draw after it a change of associations and habits,
and especially if fancied interest from short-siglited
views come in, then will new ideas not only not be
welcomed, but they will be resisted. And so strong
is this tendency that if a people be ignorant there is
no hope tliat enlightenment will spring up from
tliemselves. There is no example of it in history.
It must come from above, or from without ; when it
does come it will be resisted, and the resistance will
be in proportion to the ignorance and the fancied
Interests in question.
■ But if this be true of ignorance, much more will
it be of vice. Vice involves habits of action, chosen
habits. Its very essence is in these. It relates not
merely to associations of thought, to ordinary cus-
toms and the routine of Ufe, but to the whole direc-
tion and tendency of the man, to the tenor and
current of his affections and choices. Vices differ
as appetites, desires, passions may be stronger ; but
they have a common root in the fact that the man
is not lifted from the plane of indulgence in that
propensity which is strongest, whatever it may be, to
the higher ground of subjugating all propensities
and merely impulsive tendencies to the demands
of intelligent clioice, and the voice of conscience
speaking in accordance with that. It makes a
radical difference whether the conduct has its rool
in rational choice and be sanctioned by the con-
tcieuce, or in blind impulsion of whatever kind
DUTY OF liNl'XUENCE, ETC. 208
In tlie one case tlie man is controlled by what in
the Scriptures is called the spirit in opposition to
the flesli, and in the other by that which is called
the flesli in opposition to the spirit. In its nature
all impulsion is blind. Each appetite and desu-e
finds its motive in its own object. In themselves,
impulsion, desire, appetite, have no moral character,
but the man who gives himself up to the control of
any one of these has a moral character. He lays
aside his true manhood. He debases himself.
Outwardly he may do nothing unseemly, but he
permits that to rule which ought to serve. He falls
into bondage, and nothing but favoring outward
circumstances, or an amiable temper, or a selfish
prudence, can stand between him and any crime.
In a sense and to a certain extent the impulsive
and the rational powers may be coincident, but they
can never act in the same manner, nor have tlie
same end. Iui]HiLsion, apjietency of every kind, are
independent facts in our constitution. They are to
control us up to a certain point, and then are to be
.•egulated. Up to the point where they need reg-
ulation they may be said to be coincident witli the
rational power, but they are blind ; they are essen-
tially of the nature of servants, and whoever gives
niinself up to the permanent guidance and control
of any one of them, or to be controlled by them in
turn as ?ach may be strongest, is in bondage. Tliis
bondage may assume a great variety of forms, and
be mere or less invetcratf a;id debasing, but in
£04 MORAL SCIENCK.
3very form it is bondage, and more to be dreaded
tlian that wliich is physical. We call it bondage,
and it is so. It is an unnatural position, a degrada-
tion. Let the spiritual nature with its powers of
comprehension abdicate its seat and work in sub-
jection to the lower and blind nature of appetency
iiid impulsion, and the broad wisdom appropriate to
lliat nature degenerates into the cunning of the
Berpent. Intellectual power becomes a curse, and
instead of holding his erect position and communing
with the heavens, the man, that which is distinc-
tively so, goes upon his belly and eats dust.
This bondage is felt, but it is chosen, for though
it be bondage, there is yet in it a certain freedom,
the freedom of abandonment and insubjection.
There is in it no trouble or sacrifice of self-denial,
for the higher nature, in whose behalf alone self-
dniial is possible, is set aside. If we add to this
the blindness and paralysis that come upon the
b])iritual powers when they are thus ignored and
abused, the light that is within us becoming dark-
ness, we shall not wonder that it is so seldom, if
ever, that any one who has come under the power
of this bondage breaks away from it of his own
accord, or by his own strength.
We have, then, three conditions of humanity in
iheir order as lower and higher, in which „.
o ' Three con-
we are required to put forth efforts in its ?jj'|^^g""
ochalf: physical want, igrorance, and I ''^'"■''
will not say vice, but that state in which the v»
DUTV OK INFLUENCE, ETC. 205
tioiial and spiritual powers are in bondage to those
that are impulsive.
Of these, physical want, as producing Immediate
rirst, phys- Suffering, and as addressing us through
leal want. j,|jg genscs, makes an appeal that is uni-
versally felt. Hence all mankind have a sympathy
with the disposition that would relieve such want.
]*\om the time of Job, and doubtless from the be
ginnmg, men have commended him who has been
" eyes to the blind," and " feet to the lame," and a
" father to the poor," and who has " caused the
widow's heart to sing for joy." Besides, physical
suffering is often unavoidable. It may be from
hereditary disease, or from misfortune, or accident,
and no possible agency, or want of agency, on the
part of the sufferer can come in to check our sym-
patliy. It is to be said, too, tliougli giving to sup-
ply pliysical suffering often requires delicacy, yet
that we approach in this less near to the centre of
ersonality, and are less in danger of wounding
dither self-love or a just self-respect.
But, with the evils from ignorance, all this is in
o. , J a jrieat measure reversed ; and with those
Second and o
third, ig- from spiritual bondage, and from vice, as
tiid vice. distinguished from its physical effects, it is
wholly so. There is here no immediate suffering ;
the senses are not appealed to ; there is nothing to
measure the evil, and those who are the subjects of
the evil are not conscious of it. Ignorance may be
from indolence and negle'^t, c- from mere wilfullnesa.
206 MORAL SCIENCE.
It is often self-complacent, or perliaps makes itaelf
anconsciously ridiculous and absurd. Still less
visibly do spiritual bondage, and vice except in its
lower forms, connect themselves with suffering.
Around these wealtli and learning and accomplish-
ments are often gathered ; they array themselves
in the fasliions and organize the gayeties and pomps
of this world. Having their seat within, and being
connected witli much tliat is attractive, it is not for
one man to say how far they exist in another. As
they must be from choice and in\'olve tlie supreme
choice, and are always wrong, whoever seeks to
remove them must venture into the very seat of
personality, and always with direct or implied cen-
sure. It is not therefore to be wondered at that
while those who have relieved physical suffering,
and those who have enlightened ignorance through
the regularly constituted forms of education have
been welcomed and commended, those who have
sought to 'enthrone conscience and benefit men
spiritually should have been thought intrusive and
fanatical, and should have been resisted and per-
secuted. The truth is, that over large portions of
the earth this form of doing good has not been
iittempted. Its necessity has not been recognized.
Us very nature has not been understood. Christ is
tlie only person who ever made this his sole aim, or
it least, who made all things else subservient to
fliis. He alone saw clearly what was the greai
vant of the race. This, we can now see, has its
DUTY OF INFLUENCE, ETC. 207
foundation in the nature and condition of man, as
much so as ])hysical or intellectual want, and also
that it should be recognized as fui'nishing the high-
est sphere of labor for the good of man. But this
sphere has not been recognized distinctly, and this
labor has not been done except where the teachings
of Christ have come. He first revealed fully the
motives and conditions of successfid work, He inau-
gurated the system by his own crucifixion, and it
has been carried forward since only by the sjiirit of
self-renunciation which He thus illustrated.
In each of the spheres above mentioned, it is
more blessed to give than to receive. The reason
GiTingand '^i *-''^'- gi^i'^g implies a superiority of the
rwei'ing. giyer in the possession of the thing given,
and also the exercise of faculties capable of confui-
ring a higher joy. He who would relieve ]ihysical
want must havu money, or food, or clothing to give ;
he who would enlighten the ignorant must luive
knowledffe, and lie who would lift another from anv
form of spii-itual bondage or vice, can work effec-
tually only by standing, in some points at least,
ibore him.
CHAPTER n.
BPHEKES OF EFFORT : WHO MAY LAHOB IM
THEM.
But \Yliile there are thus these three gi'eat fields
of labor, and wliile it is more blessed in each to give
than to receive, the question arises, who niay enter
in to labor in them.
In the first, the field of physical want, the ca-
pacity, the right, and the obligation have always
been supposed to go together. If any man had
wealth, and was disposed to employ it in relieving
such wants as wealth can directly relieve, no one
lias objected ; but to labor as teachers, and also for
tlie spiritual interests of men, men liave been espe-
cially set a])art. This has been done for good rea-
sons, but I suj)pose tliat liere also the capacity gives
the riglit and imposes the obligation. For the sake
af order, and to guard against error, goverinnents
and ecclesiastical bodies have assumed to authorize
teacliers and those qualified to minister to the spir-
itual wants of men, bvit they have no power except
to exolu'le those who have not the capacit>. Ca-
[)acity is given of God, and no man or body of men
aas a right to forbid one who has it to do a good
SPHERES OF EFFORT : WHO MAY LABOR IN. 209
work to Ilia fellow men. J£ one who has capacity
be thus forbidden, it is still his duty to go on as the
Apostles did, doing his work and taking the conse-
quences. This may bring on conflicts and turn the
world upside down, but any other doctrine would
be fatal to progress.
As referring to distinct parts of our nature, the
Three three spheres of beneficence spoken of
ipheres (lis- -*■ ^
triniinatoj. abovc uccd to be carefully discriminated,
and in the minds of very many, the third needs to
be legitimated. We need not merely to see their
limitations, but especially the difficulties and obsta-
cles of each. We need also to see their relations
as higher and lower, the lower good being a condi-
tion for the higher, and the lower work furnishing
the best introduction to that which is higher, and
the best standing-point for it. He who fails to do
good to the bodies of men when that is in liis power
and they need it, or who fails to enlighten the ig-
norant when he can, will enter upon a higlier work
at a great disadvantage, if indeed he can succeed in
it at all. We need, finally, to see, what it has been
my general object to impress in these remarks, that
each of these spheres is open to all who can enter
in, and that the relations of men to each other as
.nen, impose upon all the obligation to do for othem
lu each of these spheres whatever they can.
14
SECOND GREAT DIVISION.
DUTIES FROM SPKCIAL RELATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
BIGHTS OF persons: RIGHT AND RIGHTS: SPECIAI
DUTIES : THE FAMILY.
We have now seen that it is our duty to do good
to all —
1. By conceding to them their rights ;
2. By supplying their wants ; and
8. By directing and perfecting their powers.
But tliis good is to be thus done to all in their
simple relation to us as fellow men. As such they
stand to us in the relation of perfect equality — not
necessarily an equality of condition, but an equality
Df rights. We have no right over them, they have
no claim upon us on the ground of having been
m any way specially committed to us.
But in the relations, constituted by God, of hus-
band and wife, and of parent and child, ^ . ,
and others growing out of these, there is "J** '™'';
o o 'of special
a commitment of each to each, and of "'''''*•
iome to others ; and there is a foundation laid foi
RIGHTS OF i-EKSONS, ETC. 211
wliut lavu been called the rights of persons, with
their corresponding duties, claims, and obligations.
As has been said, the rigtit of parents over the
child is from the fact that God has so committed
tiie child to them, tiiat they are either indispensa-
l)le to the attainment by the child of its end, or can
do for it what no one else can. This right, thus
founded, involves the duty on the part of the par-
ents of doing what they can to enable the child to
attain its end. This is the very purpose for which
the right over the child was given, and no duty can
be more imperative.
We have thus, in special relations of which those
Bpeciai ^^ t^^*^ family are but an example, an oc-
auttes. casion for special duties. As we pass to
the consideration of these duties that arise from
or under the " Rights of Persons," we make an
important transition. We come into a region in
many respects new. It is one thing to treat of
duty among equals having a common standard, law,
or authority, to which they must alike defer, and
quite another to treat of it among beings who have
.•eciprocal rights and duties, claims and obligations.
[n the one case, the standard may be simply imper-
gonal law, or what must mean the same thing, — the
law of obligation as revealed in each one, and so
there be no responsibility except of the being to
himself. There could he no government, no obe-
dience, no punishment. In the other case, all these
lejJJ exist, and ii: treating of these duties, new ques-
212 M01£AL SCIENCE.
tions and principles must be involved that will re-
quire attention.
And first, it may be well to notice more fully,
though it does not belong here exclu- Eeiationof
. . Right to
Bively, the relation to each other of Right, Rights,
and of Rights. Neither of these can be, except
with reference to an end. The idea of an eternal
Right existing in the order of thought before God,
or any being who could have the conception of an
end, and controlling him, is to me inconceivable.
Right relates to what beings are to do ; rights to
what they may claim and require others to do.
That is the right thing to be done in a family by
which the ends of the family as God instituted it
would be attained, and a parent has rights that he
may cause those ends to be attained. In the im-
perfection of human arrangements men may have
legal rights which it would not be right to enforce,
but it would be a contradiction to say that they can
have a right morally to do that which is not right.
He who enforces his rights for the end for which
they were given, does right ; he who does it for
any other end is a tyrant.
We next ask attention to the claims of „, , .,
The family
special duties and of the familv, out of ofV°TaT
which they all grow. "^^^^
It is said by some that we are to regard every
man, and labor for him according to his intrinsic
worth, irrespective of any special relation to us
Tiiis has a show of breadth and of liberality, bu
KIGHTS OF PJJKSONS, ETC. 213
is contraiy to nature, and would defeat ita own
end.
If there be one set of arrangements more illus-
ti'ative than others of the divine wisdom and good-
ness, it is that by whicli the knowledge and strength
and affection of the parent — that natural aflFection
wliich fixes upon the child as his own — is set over
against the ignorance and weakness and utter de-
pendence of the child. This, if any thing can, in-
dicates the ministry to which the child is to be
entrusted. Throughout animated nature the good
of the wiiole is reached by sj)ecific ministries indi-
cated and animated by specific affections. Through
them a large part of the good on the earth is con-
ferred and enjoyed, and he who would set them
aside, would set aside one of the widest and most
pervading of all the provisions and ari-angciuents
made by God.
It will follow from what has just been said, that
those who thus go contrary to nature must defeat
their own end. Is that end the hiippiiioss, or the
best care of the race ? The race has no existence
separate from the individuals of whom it is com-
posed, so that what is best for each individual is
best for all. But it is found that tlie happiness of
individuals is best promoted by a faithful attention
to those special duties which are involved in these re-
lations which God has established. The children of
each parent are committed to him. This gives him
ft specific duty. These are his platoon as an undei
21 i MORAL SCIENCE.
:)fficer in the great army of the race. There may
be higher duties in relation to the army and its
coininander tlian the care of his platoon. Exigen-
cies may occur wlien this shall be, for no natural
a flection or imjiulsc can give absolute law, but un-
der all ordinary conditions it is the business of each
parent to take care of his own children. It is not
for him to look the world over and compare his
children with those of others and decide on their
relative value or worthiness. By the voice of na-
ture and of God, as well as by every ad\'antage of
labor and of influence, his first duty is to his own
children, and as this is the case with every other
man, it will follow that in this way all children will
be taken care of in the Ijest ],)ossiblo manner.
And what is thus true of the parental relation is
true in its measure of all the relations of kindred,
as of brother and sister, and the more distant grades
of affinity. It is also true of those to whom we
aix' bound by friendship, of those to whom gratitude
is due, of those who stand in the relation of neigh-
bors and even of fellow citizens.
Of course specific affections need regulation.
There is danger of excess in them and of absorp-
tion by them. They do not give law, but are as
much intended to have an influence in social life as
the instincts are in the control of the body. With-
in limits, and under ordinary conditions, a man may
■-ationally yield himself to the guidance of his in-
itincts with the conviction that they are the voice
BIGHTS OF PERSONS, ETC. 216
Df a higher reason than his own. Let a man ignore
Instinct and Appetite in the care of his animal life,
and hand the care of that life over to Reason to be
provided for on scientific principles and there will
be no longer spontaneity or beauty in that life, and
ils ufficieiicy will bo impaired. In the same wny,
if wo disallow those feelings which naturally spriii^^
from the near affinities and proximities of social lil'c
Vfc take away its warmth and spontaneity, and sub-
stitute the limited and discordant views of individ-
uals for the wisdom of God.
The family is the ordinance of God, and its un
derlying idea is religious. It is, indeed, a training-
school for the community and the state, but only as
preparatory to fitness for a place in that great family
above of which the family here is a type, and foi
which it should be a preparation. It is the first
form of human society, the foundation and source
of all other forms, and as that is such will they be.
It was because the family is thus the fountain-head
of society, and must determine its character, that
our Saviour insisted so strongly upon its sacredness.
In nothing were his teachings more in opposition to
the spirit of his time, or to the general spirit of the
world, and nothing in those teachings caused greater
surprise to his disciples. But he knew his ground,
ne abated no jot from the strictness of his require-
ments, and the history of the world since shows the
wisdom of his precepts. Without this the materials
'or a free government never have been ftimished
216 MORAL SCIENCE.
and never can be. This it is, just this, that oui
people need not only to see, but to have impressed
upon them, for it is upon the purity, the sacredness,
and the well-ordering of families that the perma-
nence of our institutions must depend. Have what
public schools you will, enlighten the people as
you may, and without the family as formative, —
formative of habits of obedience and of a temper of
mutual forbearance, — and as offering in its spirit
the only model of a right government, the perma-
nence of free institutions in any such form as will
make them a blessing is impossible.
On this point I feel that I cannot speak too
strongly, because we are here at the root. Most
questions of what is called social science pertain to
the branches, but in this — the right constitution
and ordering of families, — is God's social science,
and if men will but learn and apply this fully, most
other questions that now pertain to that science will
disappear. Remove the swartip and the malaria and
there will be no occasion to discuss the mode of
treating the epidemic.
But while insisting thus upon the claims of the
family, I would not be insensible to those Basis of
p 1^ • 1 1 IT • commun-
01 the idea that underlies communism, ism.
The basis of communism is, for the most part, sec-
alar and economic, and its advantages are wholly so.
It seeks the best distribution and results of labor
But may not these be as well reached through the
femily as in any other way ? If not, it would be a
RIGHTS OF PERSONS, ETC. 217
jtrange exception to the law by which that which is
lower is best attained by attaining most fully that
which is higher. The difficulty has been that fam-
ilies have not been so ordered as to attain the higher
end, and then, in their isolation and selfishness evils
have arisen for which communism has been sug-
gested as a remedy. This has been tried with every
advantage by earnest, enthusiastic, and cultivated
people, but has uniformly failed. It always will.
But while there will be economic as well as so-
cial evils as long as the real end of the
Ooifperatlon. „., , ,. i-ii o /~t t •
family m trammg up children for God is
not reached, and while communism, as dispensing
with the family, can never succeed, yet another idea,
represented by another word, has arisen, through
which a measure of success, perhaps a large one,
may be hoped. That word is cooperation. To this
there is no objection. Through this, in perfect
compatibility with family relations and interests,
much may be done to diminish labor, to increase
production, and to divide more equally, not to say
justly, the common results of labor and of capital.
How much may be done in this way we do not yet
know. The experiment has not been fully tried.
Let it be tried. Let whatever can be done in this
way be done ; but Jet us hold fast to God's institu-
tion of the family. Let us hold fast to the doctrine
of special duties made imperative upon us by our
Dersonal relations. Let us not put off work at our
»wn doors for distant work, mistaking indolence, oi
:I18 MORAL SCIENCE.
sentimentalism, or the love of notoriety, or all to-
gether, for either phihmthropy or religion. Finding
a chart laid down for us in the voyage of life, let us
follow it, and not venture in seeking the good of
tiie whole to substitute our own wisdom for the
i^iBdbm of God.
CHAPTER n.
GOVERNMENT : RESPONSIBILITY : PUNISHMENT.
Accepting these special duties, or, indeed, recog-
nizing Rights of Persons at all, we reach at once
the right of the parent to command, and the corre-
Bponding obligation of the cliild to obey; or, more
generally, we reach the right of one moral being to
govern another, involving both command or author-
ity, and obedience ; we rench Faith as tlie only ra-
tional ground of obedience ; wu have Responsibility,
both of those who o;ovem for the governed, and of
those who are governed to those wlio govern ; and
we have Punishment. These are great ideas in
morals ; the larger part of our duties are connected
with them, but tliey can have place only under a
system of special relations, and in connection with
special rights growing out of the relations and caus-
ing the duties to vary endlessly as the relations
vary. At these ideas we need to look.
The foundation of the right of government and
its limitations as they are related to an
mont. QwA, have already been referred to. This
right first appears in the parent. If he is to secure
the end of tlie child, it is Indispensable that he
220 MORAL SCIENCE.
should have the right to control him. So far as
that may be necessary, he has a right to control
him physically and by force. Such control in very
early years he is bound to exercise. Subsequently
lie lias a right to command, and the child is under
obligation to obey. This is properly government —
tlie control of one intelligent and moral being by
the expressed will of another. On the one side
there is a command, on the other there is obe-
dience.
And by obedience here is not meant conformity
to the will of the parent on the ground of
■If 1 •!! T Obedience.
perceived reasons aside irom that will. It
is one thing to appeal to the reason of a child,
showing him the reasons why we wish, or command
him to do a particular act so that he may do it, not
on the ground of the command, but of the reasons ;
and it is quite another thing to give the command
without reasons, and to be obeyed simply on the
ground of the command. Of these only the last
is obedience. If the child so sees the reasons for
action that he would perform the act on the ground
of those reasons without regard to the will of the
parent, such an act cannot be in obedience to that
will. There are parents who seek to control their
children by such presentation of reasons and call it
government ; but it is not government. The child
may do right, and this may be the best thing for the
Darent to do, but he should not delude himself with
tlie idea that he governs, or that the child obeys,
GOVERNMENT : RESPONSIBILITY : PUNISHMENT. 221
To obey is to do the will of another, simply on the
ground thnt it is his will. He who obeys may see
reasons for it, or against it, or see no reasons at all,
but he would do the act equally in either case be-
cause he was commanded to do it. If that be not
the reason, it is not obedience.
Now it is just this obedience to which the parent
has a right, and wliich the child is bound to yield.
But, you will ask, is not the child a rational crea-
ture, and is not his reason to be appealed to ? Yes,
his reason is to be appealed to, but in so far as he is
under government in distinction from influence,
tliat reason is to be exercised, not in an attempt to
comprehend tlie reasons by which the will of the
parent is determined, which would be to put him-
self upon an equality with him, but in comprehend-
ing the reasons for confidence or faith in the parent.
This brings us to consider the great principle of
Principle faith whicli underlies all rational control of
nf fiuth. Qjjg being by another. This is a rational
principle, wholly so, having two branches as it makes
its demands upon the understanding or the will,
and is expressed in belief or in obedience. Their
common root is confidence. Belief because another
says it, is confidence expressed in believing ; obe-
lience because another commands it, is confidence
expressed in action. This is the great and only pos-
sible uniting, elevating, and assimilating principle
where an inferior being is to be governed by the
will of a superior, that is, to be governed at all ; or
222 MORAL SCIENCE.
where any one being is to be governed by the -w .11
of another. The child, the subject, the being gov-
erned, may not know the reason of the command,
but lie knows that lie who gives it is wise and good,
and he feels that it is the most rational thing he can
do to believe a proposition simply because he s.iys
it, and to do an act siini)ly because he commands it.
As this rational faith is the sole principle of gov-
ernment aside from fear or force, it be- jaitha.id
comes us to examine it well as needed in b"^™™™
this relation of parent and child, where we first
find the need of it. In early life children need to
be controlled wholly by their pai-ents, and they are
to be so guided that they may pass gradually from
that control to a jierfect independence of them, and
to a wise course of action under the government of
God. In this subjection and control there is to be
no shade of degradation, no slavish fear, but only a
control made necessary by the condition of the
child, I will not say to the fulfillment of its destiny,
but to the attainment of its end. Such control will
be reached by a subjection in perfect faith, both of
the understanding and the will of the child to the
understanding and will of the parent, and in no
other way. This will be government ; it ^\ ill be
lubjection, but it will be government by one quali-
fied both by wisdom and by love to govern ; it will
De submitted to in the recognition and full faith of
this wisdom and love, and can therefore liave in it
nothing misleading or degrading. The child simplj
GOVERNMENT : RESPONSIBILITY : PUNISHMENT. 223
Works under the law of love in his peculiai rela-
tions as ordained by God ; and that is all that any
creature can do. He is to rise as rapidly as possi-
ble to his position of independent action, but ui the
process of thus rising, his wisdom and duty are to be
subject to Jiis parents. If the parent be what he
sliould be, the end will thus bo reached perfectly.
If he be not wliolly what he should be, sucii sub-
iectioii will still be generally right and best, but if
the parent become disquahfied by vice or imbecil-
ity to direct the child to his end, then the civil law
may interfere, or the child may himself seek otiier
protection and guidance. This shows that tlie duty
does not arise from the mere relation. Remove the
idea of an end to be attained, and that of duty will
also disappear.
And here we find, not merely the principle of
Kespnnsi- faith, which, though rational, wholly so,
biiity. j^jj^} ufijg,. lY^Q circumstances the only
rational thing possible, is yet not philosophy at all,
any more than instinct is, but we also find the fact of
responsibility. This also has two branches. There
is both a responsibility for others, and to others ;
though responsibility for others must, except in God,
ultimately resolve itself into responsibility to an-
other. This is a great fact in morals, and the
ground of it needs to be clearly stated.
If any hold that the will of another is the groiuid
of obligation, responsibility to him will follow of
course. But if a man b<! under obligation on a
224 MORAL SCIENCE.
ground independent of the will of another, how can
he be responsible to that other ? Most pliilosophers
do in fact find a ground of obligation other than the
mere will of any being ; but all our duties arc so
connected witli responsibility, and all the duties of
every created being must be, that many liave not
thought of duty as possible without that. Respo)i-
sibihty has seemed to them to be involved in the
very conception of law, as much so as obligatioii.
And in one sense it is ; but in any sense in which a
moral beino; can be a law unto himself it is not in-
volved ; and the question is, how such a being, thus
capable of being a law to himself, can, consistently
with this, become so subject to anotlier as to be
responsible to liim.
This difficulty has been clearly seen by Dr.
Hickok, and lie sets it aside by saying, that inas-
much as positive authority must have otlier ends
than spiritual wortliiness, it has nothing to do with
pure morality, and ]nire morality has nothing to do
with it except to see that none of its requisitions are
jpposed to moralitv. "Pure morality," he says,
" in the contemplation of such occasions will not be
sufficient to cover all the methods of dealing with
human conduct, and thus other systems of motives
must be found and classified which do not du'ecl
themselves immediately to the end of highest wor-
thiness, and thereby other rules of human actioij
must be attained than the ultimate rule of pure
morality. But no such motives may be applied, ano
GOVERNMENT : BESPONSIBIUTY : PUNISHMENT. 226
flu such rules atlupced conti'ary to the clauiis of pure
morality." '■ Again, it is said of authority that, "it
IS introduced as a necessary means of constraint
where pure morality will not admit of an appli-
cation ; but in no case, and for no reason, may it bo
used in conflict with morality ; and hence the neces-
sity of subjecting all authority to the criterion of ^•
rigid iVloral Science by which only can it be known
that it is nothing but righteous authority that has
been tolerated. Positive authority, thus, must come
within the field of a pure moral science. It will not
govern by morality, but it must govern in full ac-
cordance with morality." ^
Here it may be asked, if positive authority does
not govern by morality, what it does govern by ;
and also how any authority can be a " righteous au-
thority " that has no moral quality and is exercised
outside of the field of morality. All government,
as such, is by authority, and it would seem desirable
to find a ground for that by which the government
of God may be a moral government, and not simply
not immoral.
The question respecting tlie ground of responsi-
Ki hteous bility then recurs, and an answer to it is
mthority suggested in the expression used above,
" Rio-hteous authority," that is, an authority having
its foundation in Rights. Has the parent a rii/hi
to govern ? If so, responsibility must follow, for
mthout that there can be no gorernment. This is
I Moral Science, p. 14^ , « Jbid., p. X48.
15
226 MOKAL SCIENCE.
self-evident. On what ground then can govern-
ment be justified ? Why not leave each moral be-
ing to the conti'ol of his own moral nature, and to
the results of his own action under the guidance of
that nature ? There might then be guilt on the
violation of obligation, the shock of which would be
felt within his own being, but no responsibility to
another. This is so with God. He is, and can be
responsible to no one ; but the responsibility of crea-
tures to Him must follow directly from the posses-
sion by Him of the right to govern them. These
must go together. To-day a child is at large in the
streets. He has no responsibility to any teacher,
and no teacher has any right over him. To-morrow
the parent places the child in a school, and now the
teacher has rights, and the child is responsible.
The teacher not only has the right, but is under
obligation to use all legitimate means to attain the
ends of the school, and the pupil is responsible to
him for that, and only that which would interfere
with those ends. Any authority needed to attain
rhose ends is righteous authority, as growing out of
his rights, and no other authority is righteous. So
the responsibility of the child to the parent is directly
from the right of the parent to control him, and must
be coextensive with that right. But, as we have seen,
ihe rights of the parent are from his relation to the
end of the child and of the faniily, which he is under
obligation by the affirmation of his own moral natuj'e
to take every proper means to secure, and so tht
child must be directly responsible to hiiji.
GOVERNMENT : RESPONSIBILITY : PUNISHMENT. 227
And not only is there responsibility to others, but
Besponsi- also, as has been said, for others. If tliese
Mlltj- for . "^
•thers. do ultimately coalesce from the fact of the
responsibility of all to God, yet this aspect of tlie
Bubject requires attention. The parent is responsi-
ble for the welfare of the family, that is, he is under
obligation to Go(i to see that that welfare is guarded
and promoted. He not only has a right but is un-
der obligation, on the ground of that, to guard their
rights. So far as he is able he is bound to see that
no selfishness of one sliall so encroach upon another
as to debar him from the exercise of any natural
right or the attainment of any legitimate end. Here
again we have the right of government, not merely
that the end of the individual may be attained, but
that the rights of all may be guarded. From his
very position the parent must be the guardian of the
child if his rights are to be secured, or if his end is
to be attained ; and hence we see tliat rights, gov-
ernment, and responsibility have a common ground
in their necessity for the attainment of a common
jiid having intrinsic value, and in view of which
obligation is immediately affirmed. The child is
bound to have faith in the parent because he has
.•eason to believe that he is wise and good, and will
do all things for the ends of the family ; and the
nan is bound to liave faith in God because he has
reason to believe that He is wise and good, and will
ao all thino-s for the ends of liis^ intelligent and
moral kingdom ; and so the child and the man can
228 MOKAL SCIENCt
joyfully submit to government, and acknowledge
responsibility under it with the conviction that so
only can they work for that end in view of which
obligation is affirmed. So only can conduct become
rational, so only can we have science in the place
of blind impulsions, and unity in the principle of
conduct in our various relations.
There is one point more concerning responsibility
It always has respect to some person. A Responsi-
man may violate obligation as affirmed person,
within himself, and it be nothing to another except
as a moral being ; but if he be responsible to
that other, then a failure to meet that respunsibiJity
is a violation of a right that must admit and may
demand retribution. If a parent command a child
to do an act which he has a right to command, the
child is directly responsible to him for obedience.
It' the child refuse to obey, not only is an ordinance
of God that is inwrought into the very structure of
society set aside, but the personal rights of the pa-
rent are invaded. Not only is obligation violateo
and guilt incurred, but there is a direct personal
affiront, an infringement of a sacred right, and the
parent is bound to vindicate that right in the only
way possible, that is, by punishment.
We have thus the origin, not only of the right of
government, but of punishment, the idea punishEont
and right of which are, indeed, involved "'"'"
in the very notion of government. The conse
juences within the moral being himself, of violating
government: RESPONSIBILITY: PUNISHMENT. 229
abligatioii, tlie shock that may ensue, whatever that
may be, is iipt puiiishinenl. It cannot be. Punish-
ment is tlie vindication by a person, through some
positive infliction, of violated rights. In no other
way can such rights be vindicated, and rights gen-
erally be protected, except possibly by some expres-
,ion of a displeasure as great as would be manifested
oy inflicting tlie punishment. In no other way car
the attitude of the person towards his own authoiity
and rights, or towards uniA'ersal righteousness as
sailed through these, be indicated, and his mora
character be made to appear. Government being
by authority, is an expression of Will, and if punish-
ment is to sustain government, that too must be,
and must be known to be, an expression of the same
will. Evil may be suffered and inflicted that is not
punishment. Evil from accident, or misfortune, or
fi'om the laws of nature regarded as impersonal, is
not punishment. Nor is evil inflicted by equals
upon equals punishment, nor that inflicted from
anger, or malice, or for the sake of discipline. This
latter, evil inflicted for the sake of discipline, is gen-
erally supposed to be punishment, and parents say
to children that they punish them for their own
good. But if that be the sole end the infliction of
evil has no refei-ence to law, and cannot be properly
punishment. Punishment presupposes a law ad-
ministered by a personal lawgiver having rights.
It presupposes a righteous penalty annexed to the
law, and that the law has been violated. These
230 MORAL SCIENCE.
conditions being given, punishment is the infliction
of a previously declared penalty by the will of the
lawgiver for tlie sake of sustaining the authority
of the law. That authority can be sustained in no
other way. Nothing but a penalty proclaimed, and,
if need be, inflicted, can make known and measure
the regard of the lawgiver for the law. Hence, as
entering into the very conception of government,
punishment is justified. It can never be wanton,
or capricious, or revengeful, for evil thus inflicted
would cease to be punishment, but the extent of it
must be measured by its necessity for the attain-
ment of the ends of government, and what that
extent should be only a righteous and comjjetent
lawgiver can judge. Obviously, as proclaimed be-
forehand, the penalty must express, and that only
can, the estimate by the lawgiver of his own rights,
and of the rights of others that are in question, and
also his benevolent desire to present the highest
moral motives the case will allow to prevent the in-
fraction of law. And then, whatever it is right to
affix as a penalty beforehand it must be not only
■ight, hut necessary to inflict as punishment, else,
unless some adequate reason can be given, all gov-
ernment must be abandoned.
In connection with the above, two things are to
be noticed. The first is, that the jjroper violation oi
ground of iiuiiishment under anv f!,overn- proper
. , • 1 • p 'i T- • ground of
ment is not the violation ot obligation, puninnmeti
mat is, guilt as such, but only the ^■lolation of y'o^
aOVERNMENT : KESPONSIBILITY : PUNISHMENT. 231
gatiou, as that violates riglus. In iiuiaaii govern-
ments this is avowedly so. Tliey do not claim to
punish guilt as such, or to measure it except as it
violates the rights of the community. Under the
divine government it Iiappens, or rather it must be,
that the violation of obligation and of the divine
rights, and so of the rights of his intelligent uni-
verse, correspond, but the punislnnent is not in
view of the guilt as such, but as it is guilt that vio-
lates the I'iglits of others. There must be guilt.
Tiiat is the only condition of punishment, but not
its ground. If we may suppose guilt that would
violate no rights of God, or of any other being,
liowever detestable it might be in itself, or whatever
tiie consequences might be within the being liimself,
it would be no ground of punishment. There is no
abstract inexorable justice that would require it,
and henro, even though guilt may liave been in-
curred, if the rights of all be ])erfect]y preserved
and secure, jninislimont may be righteously omit-
ted. It will not be demanded.
The second point to be noticed in coimection with
uppeaiof the above, is that the ajipeal of ])enalty
worthy fear, when threatened, and of punishment,
(vhen inflicted, is not primarily to any form of the
Sensibility tliat can be reached through positive in-
fliction. Tins ajipeal is not therefore to the fear ol
suffering as suffering merely, but of suffering as it
may be caused by that recoil of personality against
aggression upon its rights, which is an inherent and
232 MOKAL, SCIENCE.
essential j)art of righteousness — a fear of sufl'ering
as expressing the disapprobation of the lawgiver,
and felt to be deserved. This is no unworthy fear,
as some seem to suj)pose.
There are three sources of suffering to us as
moral beings. The first is, the recoil of i^j^g
our own moral natui-e when the law of its momrsukr-
Deing is transgressed. This is remorse, in '°*'
■which a man constantly accuses and condemns him-
self. The second is the expression of disapproba-
tion by others without any act of will put forth
towards us. They may do, and wu may fear, nj
hostile act, but the look of mingled displeasure and
sorrow is felt and remembered with a pang, and
this feeling will increase with the excellence and
dignity of the being, and if we have wronged him
personally, with his kindness and love towards us.
A third source of suffering to us as moral beings is
from a direct act of will withdrawing fi'om us con-
ditions of good, and inflicting upon us positive evil.
To avoid each of these, to avoid simple suffering
even, would be a suitable motive ; but it is not by
the fear of suffering that moral creatures can, or
ought to be governed. Not so does God or any
wise man seek to govern them, but by the fear of
penalty. It is by the moral nature alone tiiat suf-
I'eiing can be known as punishment, and hence i1
is to that nature, and to no ignoble and unworthy
I'eiir, that punishment appeals.
CHAPTER III.
REIATION OF THE SEXES: CHASTITY.
We liavc now considered the general topics con-
nected with the transition from those duties which
we owe to all men, to those special rights and du-
ties which are indicated by our special relations,
and it will be next in order to consider the rights
and duties tliemselves.
The special relation on which all others depend
is that of the sexes. In connection with this the
first general duty is that of Chastity.
Chastity is a duty of the individual both to him-
self and to tlie coniniunity.
Effect upon 1st. It is a duty to the individual him-
tho Individ-
"1- self.
By chastity is meant personal purity, and upon
the violation of this, whether by solitary or social
rice, God has set the seal of his condemnation by
the effects of it upon both the body and the mind.
All solitary vice tends to weakness and insanity,
the extent of both which from this cavis^ is little
suspected ; and in connection ■^^ ith the social vice
there is a disease, one of the most loathsome and
wretched ever known, which seems to have beea
sent as a special judgment and check upon it.
234 WOKAL SOIEJJCE.
Mor is the effect upon the mind loss debasing.
"However it may be accounted for," says Paley,
"■ the criminal intercourse of the sexes corrupts and
depraves the mind and moral character more than
any single species of vice wliatsoever. That ready
perception of guilt, that prompt and decisive resolu-
tion against it, wliich constitutes a virtuous charac-
ter, is seldom found in persons addicted to these
indulgences. They prepare an easy admission for
every sin that seeks it ; are in low life, usually the
first stage in men's progress to the most desperate
villainies ; and in high life to that lamented disso-
luteness of principle, which manifests itself in a
profligacy of public conduct, and a contempt of the
obligations of religion and of moral ]n-obit3% Add
to this that habits of libertinism incapacitate and
indispose the mind for all intellectual, moral, and
religious pleasures, which is a great loss to any
man's liappiness."
2. Obedience to the law of chastity is a duty to
the community. From the time of Sodom, Biectupon
sins of licentiousnesss have been the chief munity.
cause of the corruption and downfall of nations.
There is no ruin and degi-adation like that which
these sins bring upon the woman, and there is no
[Toneral debasement like that of a great city deeply
infected with this class of vices, and those that in-
evitably accompany them. If men could be brnuglit
to obey the laws of God in regard to chastity anc
Uiarriage, and also in regard to narcotic and intox-
EELAllON OF THK SKXES : CHASTITY. 235
icatiiiy substances, laws written not only in liis
Word, but in tlieir physical and moral nature, the
great obstacle to the intellectual and moral improve-
ment of the race would be removed. Abstinence
from these is not virtue. It may give greater skill
to fraud, or more power to ambition, but it is a con-
dition of virtue. It is in connection with these
sins that man is capable of degrading himself below
tiie brutea ; and through them what is called civiliza-
tion, that is, skill in literature and the arts, and in
producing the elegancies and luxuries of life, may
coexist with a state of society to which the savage
state would be infinitely preferable. Certainly
every one owes it to society to do what he can to
relieve it from this incubus.
In combating this class of sins in ourselves the
Theimagi- proper point to guard is the imagination
nation to bo "^ 7 , , i mi • ■ i ■ i i
guarded. and the thoughts, ihis is the citadel.
With this sufficiently guarded, we may go anywhere
and be subject to any form of outward temptation,
for " to the pure all things are pure." But few
only can go thus. Against no class of sins do we
more need to put up the petition : " Lead us not
into temptation." We need to guard the senses,
especially as temptation may come through them ir
the guise of the fine arts, which have often been ot
great efficiency in corrupting a people.
CHAPTER IV.
RIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRIAOB,
After the general duty of chastity it will be in
order to consider : —
1. The rights and duties of the sexes in their re-
lations to each other previous to marriage.
2. The rights and duties, in their relation to each
other, of those who are married.
3. The law of divorce.
4. The rights and duties of parents.
5. The duties and rights of children.
1. Of the rights and duties of the sexes in their
relations to each other previous to marriage.
These will relate, first, to the period pre- Rights and
. , , , , duties befon
vious to bemg engaged to be married. engagement.
That is a critical period when young persons first
twake to a consciousness of those sentiments which
are to unite them so closely, and to affect so nearly
their own happiness and that of the coming gener-
ations. A new world is opened up to them full of
susceptibility, emotion, sentiment, romance, ]iassion
and with cajiabilities of both happiness and miscrv
unutterable. What shall be done ? Left to them
BIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRIAGE. 237
selves, there is danger of imprudence and misjudg-
ment. Controlled by others, there is danger that
that which is highest in sentiment and purest in af-
lection will be sacrificed to fancied interest, or to
nmbition. It is not easy for the parties themselves,
much less for others, to distinguish the glamour of
a transient infatuation from the conscious recogni-
tion and opening affection of two natures made to
supplement each other. In the freshness and glow
of such sentiments prudence is spurned, and an ap-
peal to dutj' seems cold and impertinent. Hence,
in some countries, in most indeed, young persons
have been kept during this period under the strict-
est surveillance, and everything pertaining to mar-
riage lias been regulated by others. Among tlie
Moravians, partners were, until recently, assigned
by lot. There are persons living in this country
now who obtained their wives in that way. But in
this country now it is virtually in the hands of the
young people themselves, giving rise doubtless to
greater ha|)piness in some cases, but in others to
mistakes and scenes both ludicrous and sad. By
those who have had opportunity to observe it has
been gravely questioned which course is best. In
.uiy way there will be persons unmatched and mis-
matched. But however this may be, this matter
not only now is, but will continue to be chiefly in
tlie hands of those more immediately concerned, and
n view of that they have duties whether they wil'
ieed thenj or not.
238 MORAL SCIENCE.
And here the one duty of those whose affections
are yet free is to withhold themselves from any at-
tempt to awaken affection in another except with a
view to marriage. This will be hard where there
IS conscious beauty and power ; vanity and pride
will jilead strongly, and many will go as far as they
can or dare. But the existence of an affection that
cannot be requited is a great evil, and to awaken
purposely, or to seek to awaken such an affection,
is a crime. It is trifling with feelings that God in-
tended should be sacred, and causes a revulsion that
nothing else can. It makes cynics and misan-
thropes of the most hopeless kind. One who can
thoughtlessly or heartlessly trifle with a true affec-
tion, or who mocks at it and treats all claim to it
as a pretense, is lost, — is incapable of even conceiv-
ing of the great liapjjiness there is in affection with
secm'ity for its basis, and which God intended should
be connected with the marriage state. Only when
there is a view to marriage may that more intimate
ac(juaintance be sought which will justify an en-
gagement, and when the parties are on this footing,
the one duty is frankness in relation to everything
that could affect the feelings of the opposite party.
After an engagement is entered into, the rights
Tutl duties of the parties become more Rights and
definite. The parties are now betrothed, eDgagcment
sffianced, engaged to each other by a promise only
'ess sacred than that of marriage. They are, and
lliould be known to be, in such relation to each
BIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRIAGE. 239
other that it would be criminal in either of them to
seek the affection of another, and that it will be
criminal in any other to seek the affection of eitlier
of them.
Tlie lengtli of an engagement involves no pi'in-
ciple oxcejit that neitlier party has a right to pro-
long tlic time beyond that desired by the othei ,
\vitlio'it good reason. In general, short engage-
ments are best.
The levity and capriciousness with which such en-
gagements are broken are to be deprecated. If it
be found that there was concealment or deception
in relation to anything material at the time of the
engagement, or if there be gross immorality or
licentiousness subsequently, the other party will be
justified in breaking the engagement. Nothing
short of one or the other of these. can justify such
a step of one party without the consent honorably
obtained of the other. An engagement is not mar-
riage, but only preliminary to one, the object of
which is a happy life in the attainment of the ends
of marriage. Incident to an engagement, though
not the object of it, is a more perfect acquaintance,
and if, in connection with this it should appear that
their mutual happiness is not likely to be secured,
and this shall be the opinion of pach, they are not
only at liberty, but are bound to break an engage-
ment which they find to have been made under a
misapprehension, though, it may be, without fau)<
Dn either side.
240 MORAL SCIENCE.
Perhaps it ouglit to be said, as the affections of
woman are stronger than those of man, and as she
is not allowed the initiative, so that the injury of a
broken engagement would be greater to her, it is
incumbent on the man to be especially scrupulous
on this point.
The reciprocal rights and duties of husbands and
wives grow, like all others, from the law mghtsanj
of love, but from that law as applied in Smtanos
this special and most intimate and sacred *"* ^"
relation. With the affection that should form the
hasis of marriage, the happiness that may flow from
it is greater than any other not distinctively religious.
It is, indeed, made in the Scriptures a type of that
higher happiness which is to flow to the church from
her union with Christ. A failure to attain this hap-
piness can arise only from ignorance or from a want
of right purposes and dispositions.
There is often ignorance or misapprehension of
the reciprocal rights and duties involved in mar-
riage. God has indicated in the structure of the
physical frame, and in the mental characteristics
which correspond, different spheres of duty for the
husband and the wife. The adaptation of each sex
to its sphere is equally perfect, and as both are parts
of one indivisible race, the terms superior and in-
ferior are not properly applicable. What is needed
s a distinct recognition by each sex of its own
sphere, and a cheerftil acceptance of its responsi-
bilities and duties. The object is unity througlt
BIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MARRIAGE. 241
diversity, and, within limits, the greater the diver
sity the greater the beauty of the possible unity.
If God has made, as He has, by nature and by
revelation, the husband the head of the house, then
the truest and best happiness of the wife will be
found only in recognizing him in that I'elation. If
God has made it the business of the wife to " guide
the house," then the husband will find his peace and
happiness in giving her the reins in that depart-
ment. Of course there are exceptions, as there are
to the command to children to obey their parents.
If the parent become imbecile, or intoxicated, oi'
command the child to steal, he is bound not to obey.
The relation is changed, and the law of love must
be interpreted by the relation. So it is universally.
If through ignorance, or inadvertence, or wayward
speculations and theories of equality that recognize
no difference, the natural relations fail of recognition,
the full benefits of marriage cannot be realized,
though the temper may be right.
But while ignorance is one cause of failure in
CaoMs of married life, the great source of trouble is
ness. a want of right purposes and dispositions.
It is some form of selfishness on one part, or both,
The husband is imperious, exacting, unsympathiz-
ing, self-indulgent, perhaps sensual to the extent of
vice. The wife is indolent, neglectful, extrava-
gant, peevish, unsympathizing. Perhaps there
was an original failure of a full commitment of each
to each, so that there never has been that conscioua
16
-242 MORAL SCIENCE.
'inity and perfect confidence in which the charm of
married life consists, for next to loving with a per-
fect love is the happiness of a perfect confidence,
and of an assurance that love is returned. The
great duty then will he to cherish and cultivate
mutual love.
But can love be cultivated ? On this point there
is much misapprehension. Love is radi- cuitivnUon
cally an act of will. True, that which ''^""•■
leads to marriage is accompanied by admiration, by
desire, by sentiment, but these do not become love
till the will authorizes them by an act of choice, and
this fact gives the will an indirect control over all
the emotions and feelings connected with it.
In the first place then, each can cultivate those
qualities in themselves that will tend to secure love.
Each can seek to become more lovable. A reso-
lute purpose and persevering effort in this will work
surprising changes, and is far better than complaints
of want of affection. Such complaints tend only to
aggravate the difficulty. In the second place, hus-
band and wife may seek, and are bound to seek, the
improvement of each other ; and by this I mean not
merely intellectual improvement, but improvement
in all that is a ground of esteem and of rational affec-
tion. The mode and measure of this will so depend
upon their relative age, upon acquirements aiid
temperament, that no details can be given ; but a dis-
position to give and to accept aid in this way wiV
greatly tend to mutual love. But in the third place
BIGHTS AND DUTIES IN RELATION TO MABRUGE. 243
and wliich is perhaps quite as important as either,
we can form the habit of looking at excellences and
overlooking deficiencies and even faults. Let each
party adopt the spirit of the couplet —
" Be to her virtues very kind,
Be to her faults n little blind."
and it would, I will not say pour oil upon the
troubled waters, but would prevent them from ever
becoming so troubled as to " cast up mire and dirt."
This I say on the supposition that there are faults
to be overlooked and follies to be kind to, but if
there are, and I have known such, husbands whose
wives have for them no faults or follies, and if there
are wives whose husbands have none, these remarks
do not apply to them.
In these ways a vast deal may be done in the cul-
tivation of mutual love, and this, as inclusive of all
other duties, and sure to draw them after it, and
also as being so little underst(jod and a])preciated, is
the one great duty that needs to be inculcated upon
those in the marriage state.
CHAPTER V.
THE I^W OF DIVORCE.
Marbiagb, as we have seen, involves a union
lacredness altogether pocuHar. In its perfection it is
»f marriage. ^ spirJtual unioH, and only in it does the
life of each party become complete. That this union
should be, and should be understood to be for life, is
essential to the interests of both parties, to the wel
fare of children, and to the interests of the State.
Only on the condition of such understanding can
there be a perfect commitment of each to each, and
that perfect community of interest and of life which
radically separates marriage from all forms of pros-
titution and unlawful cohabitation. As thus pecu-
liar and sacred, the original institution of God was
that the union should be of one man with one
woman, and for life. Under the Mosaic dispensa-
tion divorce was permitted on various grounds
but the original ground and saci-edness of marriage
was not lost sight of. This appears from a remark-
able passage in Malachi showing the unreasonable-
ness and evils of both polygamy and divorce, and
tlie displeasure of God towards them. " And this,'
lays he, " have ye done again, covering the altar of
THE LAW OF DIVORCE. 245
the Lord with tears, with weeping, and with crying
ont, insomuch that he regardeth not the offering any
more, or receiveth it with good will at your hand.
Yet ye say, wherefore ? Because the Lord hath
been witness between thee and the wife of thy youth
against whom thou hast dealt treacherously. Yet
is she thy companion and the wife of thy covenant.
And did not he make one ? Yet had he the residue
of the Spirit." He might have made any number as
easily. " And wherefore one ? " continues the pro-
phet. " That he might seek a godly seed. There-
fore take heed to your spirit, and let none deal
treacherously against the wife of his youth. For
the Lord God of Israel saith that he hateth putting
away." What a picture ! Poor wronged women
bathing the altar of God with their tears ; those who
did the wrong seeking to be religious by offerings
while they yet held on to the wrong ; God rejecting
their offerings, asserting the law of marriage, declar-
ing that He made one woman for a perpetual union
with one man that the children might he trained for
Himself, and implying that this could be done in no
jther way.
The original law of marriage, thus asserted by
Malachi, Christ fully restored. This law is based
on the very nature of marriage, and is confirmed
by the fact that rather more males than females are
born, allowance being made for their greater expos-
ure to the causes of death. This has been so felt
to be a law of nature that among various nations,
246 MORAL SCIENCE.
the Romans and Scythians, who have not had i-^e
light of revelation, marriage has been held saci-ed,
adultery lias been puiiislied by death; and the very
i:nv of divorce laid down by Chiist has been
adopted. Hence it is the duty of Christian States
to make this law tlieir standard, and to approximate
it as nearly as the state of public sentiment will
allow. No doubt there are cases of peculiar iiard-
Bliip. Persons of uncongenial temperaments and
tempers are united. There will be ill-assorted mar-
riages and misadjustments of every degree. There
will be vice and abandonment on one part or the
other, and such cases are liable to be of peculiar
hardship to the woman. But facility of divorce
will set back its influence to the very fountain-head
of the institution. It will affect the spirit with which,
marriage is entered upon ; it ^^■ilI generate and mul-
tiply the very evils for which divorce is sought.
Nothing can so tend to repress petty differences,
liable to become exaggerated into permanent feuds,
as the consciousness, always felt like a jjervading at-
mosphere, even when it is not recognized, that they
ure inseparably united and must be mutually depend-
ent. If facility of divorce be sought, as it is, on the
ground of cases of special hardship to women, it is
to be remembered that the evils of divorce fall
with peculiar hardship upon her, and tl at the punty
and general elevation of the sex will always be in
proportion to the strictness with which the law of
maniage is enforced.
CHAPTER VI.
RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN.
In considering the reciprocal rights and duties of
parents and children, we are, as before, to be
guided by the Law of Love intei-preted by the re-
lation. The child is entrusted to the parents by
God. In its original weakness, ignorance, and en-
tire dependence, the i)arents have, and must have,
tlie right of entire control. As the child becomes
capable of taking care of itself, tliis right will be
modified, till, at length, wiien the occasion for it
shall cease, the right will cease altogether. This is
typified by what we see among the lower animals.
They have no knowledge of rights, but the care and
-■ontrol of the young is provided for by an in-
Btinct which ceases when the young are able to take
care of themselves. If the young need no care,
there is no instinct, showing how carefully every-
thing in nature is furnished and regulated witli ref-
erence to ends.
The right of control thus belonging to the parent
IS to be used, first, to promote the end of the child,
ind second, of the family.
The end of the child is not identical with whfit it
248 MORAL SCIENCE.
sometiuKJs called, and supposed to be, the good of
the child, consisting in his own personal advance-
ment or eiijoymunt, in some " summum bonum "
that can belong to liim alone ; but it is the very end
indicated in his constitution, and for which God
made him, that is, not merely to be a recipient of
good, but an originator and promoter of it, in syni-
[)at]iy \Aith God in his spirit, and in harmony with
Hhn in his methods. It will thus enter into the con-
ception of his end that he should promote the good
of the family.
In marriage and in the birth of children the fam-
ily is constituted. This is a divine institution hav-
ing an end that can be readied only through all
its members ; and while the child may not be, as
tiie ancients su[)]iosed, used selfishly, as a thing, for
the good of tlie ])arent, he may yet be required to do
all things tliat are legitimately for the ends of the
family. He may be )equired to labor for the com-
mon support, and it is the duty of the parent so far
to control eacli cliild tliat no one shall interfere
with the riglits of any of the others.
This riglit of control may and should be en-
forced by physical means if necessary. There is an
end to be attained for tlie child himself. It is of
the last importance to him that he should be taught
obedience and subordination. These are in the or-
iler of God's providence, and he who does not know
how to obey will never know how to rule. The
u^me thing is important to the peace of the family
SIGHTS AND DUTIES OF I'AKENTS AND CHILDREN. 21G
iind of society, and miit^t be secured by every legit-
imate means. Let persuasion be tried. Let reason
be appealed to ; but if these will not suffice, the rod
should not be spared. Perhaps the rod was for-
merly used too much. It will be quite as mischiev-
ous in every way to use it too little. The child lias
a rational nature, but may not be reasonable. He
has also an animal nature, and there is no reason
why that should not bo appealed to. Do you think
it degrading to your child to whip him? You need
not do that. Whip the mule that is in him. If
possible whip it out of him, and then you will have
a child and not a mule. The less we have of the
use of the rod the better, but government, subor-
dination, order, must be maintained, and if these
cannot be had without tlie rod, the parent is dere-
lict in his duty if he do not use it.
The rights of the parent are for the sake of his
first duty of ^uties, and to enable him to perform
^y^Vj"^ them. His first duty is to provide for phys-
ictti wants. j|,j^] ^ants, ill whole or in part, according
to the age of the child, and to make such provision
as shall comport with his condition in life. He is
bound to provide for his health and physical devel-
opment, and to put him to no such employment in
ifind or desree as shall interfere with these.
The second duty of the parent is to secure such
Second duty intellectual education and such training,
•duoation. jjj somo industrial pursuit, or in some pro-
fession, as shall secure his support and his useful-
<250 MORAL SCIENCE.
ness as a citizen. It might be supposed tliat nat-
ural aflPection would secure this, but in all states of
society there are individual cases in which it does
not, and it is found that high civilization and aggre-
gate labor have hitherto, by some misadjustment,
precipitated a stratum of society in which artificial
appetite and animal want have so been the prevail-
nm element as to subordinate natural affections,
making the children mere instruments of selfishness,
and dooming them, almost by necessity, to a similar
condition. It is this state of things that has justi-
fied, and that alone could justify an interference by
society with the hours of labor, which, we should
naturally suppose, parents would best know how to
regulate. It is the duty of the parent to make over
to society good material for its upbuilding, and if
any class of parents fail to do this, society not only
has the right, but is bound in self-defense to inter-
fere.
The third gi-eat duty of the parent relates to
moral and religious training. " Man does T^ij^^^j-.
not live by bread alone," nor can the "Jj^J"*
child. He is capable of being trained for '""°'"e-
God, and God has entrusted him to the parent that
he may be thus trained. The only effectual way in
which the parent can do this is himself to be what
the child should be. There is in example an im-
perceptible and pervading influence that can be had
in no other way. Let this be good in principle, and
judiciojis in outward forin, and all other good in-
RIGHTS A.ND DUTIES OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 251
Hueiices will, almost of course, fall into its train.
Let this be evil, and it will be mainly through this,
in connection with physical deterioration, that the
miquities of the fathers will be visited upon the
children to the third and fourth generation.
But besides this, much may be done in giving
direction to reading, in regulating associations, in
forming habits. And all this, especially the forma-
tion of habits of thought and feeling, as well as of
action, is to be begun very early. They will then
become incorporated into the life as they will not be
likely to be, and perhaps never can bo afterwards.
In all this there is to be care not to do anything
obtrusively or in excess. Much harm has been
done by bending the bow too far. It flies back. It
may bo difficult in the stress and pressure which
active business life, and especially public life, brings
upon men to give the time needed for such training
of children, but no folly can be greater tiian that so
common in this country, by wliich parents make
themselves slaves to lay up money which, for want
of right training and moral qualifications in the
children, becomes their ruin. Nothing can be more
sad or instructive than the history, in this regard,
of many of our wealthy families. It is no less the
wisdom of parents, in behalf of their children than
in behalf of themselves, to " seek first the Kingdom
of God and his righteousness." The highest value
)f wealth must be to purchase for children, indi-
i-e( tly of course, more knowledge, more wisdom.
262 IIORAL SCIENCE.
more health, better habits, to give them bettor facil-
ities for usefuhicss, and more chances of it ; in
short, to raise them to a higher manhood. Thus a
liigh. manhood, a pure, elevated womanhood, is the
end to be reached. If it can be reached, as cer-
tainly it may, without wealth, that is of little conse-
quence. If wealth becomes obstructive of this, it
is a curse. But it need not be thus obstructive.
Instead of vanity, pride, dissipation, luxury, effemi-
nacy, the result of wealth may be, and should be,
the training of families not only in the knowledge
and virtues that give dignity to life, but also in
every accomplishment that can give it grace.
We now pass to the rights and duties of chil
dren.
It is sometimes said that a right and an obligation
are reciprocal : that wherever there is a Kightsof
, . ... children
right tliere is a corresponding obligation, claims.
Tiiis is not strictly true. The parent, as a parent, is
for the sake of the child. His rights are to enable
him to perform his duties, and both are for the sake
of the child, and these rights and duties commence
before there can be either duties or conscious rights
on the part of the child. And when the child be-
comes capable of duties and conscious of rights, these
have generally no reference to the end of the parent.
The rights give no right of control, but are simply
claims, and the duties are mostly such as are re
quired by the well-being of the child, which is, cf
should be, the great object desired by the parent.
RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF I'AKSNTS AND CHILDREN. 253
The duties of children may all be comprised in
Duuwof tl"^ one word '■'■honor" as that is used in
:hiidren. jj^^ pjf^j^ Commandment. This seutimont
of honor towards the parent, expressing itself ir
outward act according to the clianging relation oi
parent and cliild in tlie progress of the cliild towards
maturity, would hold the parent and child in per-
petual harmony, and would secure to both every
end contemplated by the parental relation. The
child that honors his father and mother will render
them implicit obedience in his early years. If, as
his power and right of self-control are increased, it
should become his duty to differ in any respect from
the parent, or even to disobey him, as in rare and
exceptional cases it may be, the spirit of the law
will still be preserved, and all will be done that can
be with a good conscience, to meet not only the
commands, but the feelings and the wishes of the
parent. The temper expressed by this word
' honor," is precisely that which is needed to fit
the child for his duties towards God and towards
society as represented by government. This spirit,
extending itself from the parental relation into all
others, permeating the character, becomes a foun-
tain of courtesy, and makes the difference between
a people reverent, mutually respectftil, and capable
of self-control, and an irreverent, reckless, profane
mass of individuals incapable of self-govei-nment,
and sure to inaugurate, sooner or later, in the name
\)f liberty, a stat<3 of society compared with which
254 MOKAL SCIENCE.
despotism would be a blessing. So long as children
honor their parents in this land, there will be piety
towards God, and freedom in the State ; but if these
fountains be corrupted, whatever form governments
uuiy assume, men will fall off from their allegiance
to God, and the spuit and benefits of fi-eedom will
depart.
CHAPTER VIL
lOCIETT AND GOVERNMENT: THE SPHERE OF GOV-
ERNMENT : ORIGIN OF GOVERNMENT : MODE OJ
FORMATION.
We now proceed to consider Civil Society and
Civil Government.
Government is the agent of society for the ac-
OoTemment complishmcnt of its ends, and like the
how divine, family^ Jg a divine institution. By a divine
institution, we mean one made necessary by God
through relations ordained by him for the attain-
ment of our end. The fact that food is necessary
to sustain life, makes the use of it of divine ap-
pointment ; and the fact tliat the end of the child
cannot be attained except tlirongh control by the
parent, gives the parent riglits directly from God,
and imposes upon the child corres])onding duties.
No assent or contract on the part of the parent, or
of the child, is required to constitute the family so
far as to render valid every right and obligation
needed for the attainment of its ends. The rights
and duties are from the ends. The relations, caus-
ing the family to be what it is, indicate those ends,
■nd through them, the m'l of God. These rela-
206 MOKAL bClENCE.
tious and ends man cannot change. He can only
act or refuse to act in conformity with, or in refer-
ence to tiicui. Acting in conformity with tliese
relations, and witli reference to these ends, the
blessings intended to flow from the family will be
realized, and as there is a failure in this, evil will
result. The institution is from God, it cannot be
changed by man. All he can do is to conform, or
refuse to conform, to the relations it involves, and
seek, or refuse to seek the ends indicated by those
relations.
And precisely so it is with Civil Government. It.
is a divine institution, if not as directly, ci^,g„^.
yet as really as is the family. The %ZttL
rights which society has, and which it may '""'"'•
rightfully exercise through some form of govern-
ment it has from no contract. Men may, if they
choose, express the rights and duties involved in
government in the form of a contract, but it is a
mistake, and may lead to mischievous consequences
to suppose that these rights and duties originate in
iny form of conlract. By the constitution of God
the ends of the individual can be attained only
through government, and therefore the rights of
government and the duties of individuals under it
originate in the same way as the rights and duties of
parents and of children. The individual is born in
Bociety. That is his natin-al state, and as thus born
both society and he have reciprocal rights and duties
These he may recognize and have all the benefit!
BOClliTY AKU GOVi:i{NMENT, ETC. 257
of society ami of govei'nmeiit, or lie may refuse to
I'ucoguize tlieiii and be deprived of these benefits,
but tlie rights and duties exist independently of
\m will. They exist, and in entering into society,
the individual comes under no new obligation, and
gives up no right.
It is said in tlic Declaration of Independence,
(hat " Governments derive their just powers from
the consent of the governed." If, as most have
supposed, this refers to the foundation of govern-
ment, and not to its form, the above view is opposed
to it. Such a doctrine would exclude the will of
God as underlying government. It would also take
away its authority, for the consent that may be
given at will may be withdrawn at will. Besides,
the princiijle would require, not merely the consent
of a majority, but of every man. Such a doctrine
may please the popular ear, and be accepted when
there is no strain upon the government; but when,
as in our late struggle, there is such a strain, the
instinct of the nation sets aside the doctrine of mere
contract or consent, and practically asserts an au-
thority resting on a deeper basis. Its form of gov-
ernment a nation may ordain and change. If that
government overstep the limit of just authority it
uiay be resisted, but within those limits its rights
lire from God.
The distinction between society and government
Distinction ^''^' ^^ more prominent if we suppose
^'ty'an'/'' sacli individual composing the society to
ioT«nmieut ^^, perfect, that is, to exercise a perfect
17
258 MORAL SCIKNCE.
8elf-gc7ernment. In that case nothing that iould
[iroperly be called government would be nesded
Tlici'e might be regulations respecting all mattcra
requiring uniformity and involving no principle, as
the age for voting, or the distribution of the prop-
erty of one dying intestate. These might be
made by the united experience and wisdom of the
community, and to them all would conform, not as
under government, but as apprehending the rea-
son of them, or, at least, the necessity of uniform-
ity. We should thus have, with perfect family
government, and perfect self-government, which is
simply obedience by tlie individual to the law of
God, society without civil government, but capable
of being organized into a civil government when-
ever the occasion should arise.
Such occasion can arise only as civil government
inay be needed to enable individuals to Q^unjiund
reach their end, and it will have no right "f '.'*.*,'°"i
' O of civil gOT-
to do anything which will not contribute "°™>^"'=-
to that. Government can have for a legitimate
end only the good of the governed. The object of
it is to do that for the individual whereby he may
be enabled to attain his end which he could not do
for himself.
What then can government do for the individua..
which he cannot do for himself?
To answer this question fidly we must contem
plate government in two aspects : Is", as the indi-
vidual may take a part in forming anci administering
SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 269
it ; and 2dly, as it is an agency standing apait I'roin
tlio individual and above him for the doing of that
wliich he could not do himself.
In treating of government it has been this latter
participation aspc'ct that has been almost wholly re-
develops ttie T 1 Tn 1 •
joverued. gardcd. If we suppose a despotic govern
nient to do for tlie people all that it can do, — let it
be wiiolly paternal, — yot the influences under wliich
the individual will be formed will be wholly different
from those under a free government where it is the
duty of the individual to understand and take part
in the formation and the administration of the gov-
ernment. Free institutions have their value not
merely from their greater tendency to secure the
rights of the individual, but also from their educa-
ting, formative, develophig power. Free institutions
tend to become, and will become in themselves, a
great university for political education, as well as a
sure guai'anteo that provision shall be made for uni-
versal education in other directions. As, therefore,
man has a right to the best means of development
as well as to the best conditions for action under a
government, it may be said that he has a right to
free institutions whenever and wherever he is capa-
ble of so administering them as to secure their
ends.
But apart from this, regarding government as
k.mething already formed, the inquiry arises what
it can properly do for the individual which he could
aot do lor himself, for, as self-help is the great co;t
260 MORAL SCIENCE.
dition of grovvtli, it must dwari' the individual, aud
deaden enterprise to have the government do what
the individual can.
And here it is to be said that the first and great
function of government is to secure to all Qovemment
their riglits. Of rights we have already ^^1^^"
spoken. They include all that is necessary "'*"■
for the attainment by the individual of his end.
Give man liis rights in regard to Life, to Liberty,
to Property, to Reputation, to Truth, and give him
Security respecting all these, and you do for him
all that is essential. If, with such conditions, he
fail of attaining the ends he ought to attain it must
be his own fault.
It is sometimes said to be a separate office of gov-
ernment not only to secure the rights, but GoTerDmeut
to redress tlie wrongs of the individual, dreeswrongs.
There is room for this distinction, though the secur-
ing of rights and the redress of wrongs are really
the same thing viewed in different aspects. If a
man has been wrontred it is his risht to have that
wrong redressed if that be possible, and if that be
not possible, it is the right of society to demand
buch punishment as will give them all the security
of which the case admits. The great end tlierefore
of a government is to secure promptly and efficiently
the rights of all who are under it, and it is a good
government in proportion as it does this. Tliis, of
course, can be done only as there is perfect equality
Sar all in tlie eye of the law. It is against the vjo
SOCIETY ANU (iOVEKNilENT, ETO. 261
#tiuu .f a right as such, of any right, of the right
of the humblest and poorest, that the government ia
to guard, and if any difference be made it should be
in favor of the liumble and tlie poor. The prompt,
efficient, impartial protection of rights and the re-
dress of wrongs, is then the first great office of gov-
ernment.
A second legitimate function of government is to
GoTOrnmeni S'^® facilities, sometimcs for individual, but
toteeniOT-"' ^ove oftcu for associated enterprise. It
'"^™' may thus limit and regulate copyrights,
and patent-rights, and may incoi'porate companies to
enable them to pursue branches of business which
could not well be undertaken by individual enter-
prise. Whatever individual protection or further-
ance any individual may need to attain the ends of any
lawful form of industry he ought to have — -provided
no special privilege be given him, for no partiality
or favoritism should be shown in legislation. And
in incorporations, as of banks, the acts sliould be
passed not at all for the special benefit of tliose who
are incorporated, but of the public. All such acts
should eitner be open to all, or should be limited
iolely by a regard to the public good.
This general head of furnishing facilities opens a
field of legislation into which abuses may readily
creep ; still it is not only legitimate, but well-nigh
.indispensable. Government, as the agent of society,
may even undertake enterprises in its own name that
ibftll furnish facilities for the people generally, but
262 MORAL SCIENCE.
the utmost caution is needed in selecting, and in
carrying forward such enterprises. It is a special
danger under our form of government that public
enturjjrises «'ill be entered upon for private advan-
tiioe, and that they will be carried forward both
wastefully and corru]3tly.
These then are the direct objects which a govern-
ment may propose to itself, — the protection of all
rights, the redress of wrongs, and the furnislang of
facilities, without favoritism, for the enterprise of
the people.
There is also an object which must be regarded
as leiritimate, which lartrelv nives tone to seir-preeer-
O ' o I o vation of
the measures adopted under every I'urm govi-mmcut.
of government, and that is its own preservation.
Wliatever has a rijfht to be has a riglit to all the
means necessaiy to its permanence and well-behig.
Hence despotic governments, assuming their right
to be, must maintain standing armies. Hence lim-
ited monarchies must have an aristocracy to stand
between them and the jieople, and both must exer-
■ise control over both education and religion. Witli-
out these no monarchy has been permanent, or can
be. If, by extraordinary talent and sagacity, a man
like Louis Napoleon may seize tlie reins and hold
lliem for his lifetime, it is yet felt that his govern-
ment has no permanent basis. Louis Napoleon
had a son who would naturally succeed him, but
if you asked a Frenchman what would happen if
the father should die, he would simply shrug hi»
SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 263
ihoulders, and say nothing. It was the instinct
of self-preservation that led Napoleon and the
English aristocracy to take part against us in our
late struggle, and it is to be expected that every
establishced form of government and every invested
interest should be governed in tlie same way.
It is on the principle we are now considering thi,t
(lenM right free governments have the right to pro-
of govern- ' i p i .
ment to vide for and maintain schools instead of
iiumtaia
tchoois. standing armies, and to restrict the right
of voting and of office-holding within such limits
as the safety of the Republic may require. The
apprehension of these two rights, especially of tho
right to tax the property of all, whether they have
or have not children to educate, has been slow in
finding its way into the public mind, and would still
be contested even in many parts of onr own coun-
try, but it rests on solid ground if it can be shown,
as clearly it can, that virtue and intelligence are the
essential conditions of a free and popular govern-
ment. It is only on this ground that this right can
rest, for the government can have no right to take
property of one man for the benefit of others unless
it be essential to its own being or well-being.
But may not the government promote intelligence
Degisiation and morality for their own sake ? Mux it
for morality, not legislate directly for their promotion
as ends ? No. It must protect the rights of all,
redress their wrongs and give them facilities such
IS a government only can give, and leave the pro-
laotion of virtne and inteUigence, except as these
264 MORAL SCIENCE.
may be demanded for its own being or efficiency, to
individual effort, or to voluntary association. Es
pecially is it to be said that government may not
interfere in any way with religion except as such
interference may be required by the principles above
mentioned.
But may there not be legislation in favor of tem-
perance? No. The promotion of temperance is
no proper object of legislation. Temperance has
the same relation to legislation that honesty has.
The laws against stealing are not for the promotion
of honesty, but for the protection of rights ; and in
tlie same way if the traffic in ardent spirits did not
interfere directly or indirectly with the rights of
others it would not be a proper subject for legisla-
tion. Let those who carry on this traffic guarantee
the public against the crime and increase of tax-
ation it occasions and there need be no legislation
on the subject. But the moment any business can
be shown to be the caiise of crime on which the
courts established by the government must sit, or of
taxation which the government must assess and
collect, it comes within the range of legislation, and
the community have a right to the best legislation
that can be devised for their protection. Neither
liquor sellers nor liquor dealers have any rights be-
yond the point where their acts begin to touch the
right of others to property or to security, or even
their right to be protected from those moral con-
litions which, as human nature is now constituted
SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC. 265
will insure the corruption of the young and of the
weak through temptations addressed to their senses,
and which are obtruded upon them.
Much has been said of attempts to make men
moral by legislation, and of prescribing to men what
lliey shall eat and drink; but no one who under-
stands the proper objects of legislation would think
of doing either of these. If morality may be indi-
rectly promoted by legislation, so much the better.
If, in order to abate taxation and crime and nuis-
ances, it may become necessary to render intoxica-
ting drinks less accessible than some who might
safely use them would desire, this is not the object
intended, but only the means necessary for a legiti-
mate end.
It will appear from the above, that in addition to
True end of mcasurcs needed for its owu preservation,
govenunent. (.j^g gj,;gf function of government is the
removing of obstacles. Its end is attained when all
the individuals under it attain their end. But this
can be done only through the positive exertion by
each one of his own faculties, and all that govern-
ment can do is to secure faVorable conditions for this.
The fatal mistake has been, that governments have
proposed ends of their own, and in securing these
nave been utterly reckless of both the rights and
the ends of the individual. When this is done in
the least degree, it matters not what the fonr of
government may be, — it is a perversion and
tyranny.
266 MORAL SCIENCE.
We next inquire when, in the progi-ess The origin
of the race, civil government becomes meit.
necessary.
If we make, as we must, a distinction between
government and society, society being the principal,
and government the agent, then government can-
not be needed, or possible, till there is society. But
as demanding civil government, a single family cati-
not constitutp society. Tlie family has a govern-
ment of its own, and suffices for itself. Before
there can be civil government, there must be an
aggregation of families. Hence it is that the family,
and not the individual, is the unit of civil govern-
ment. This, in the patriarchal form, would natu-
rally grow out of the union of several families hav-
ing a common origin ; and this again would naturally
extend and consolidate itself in monarchy. This is
supposed to have been the actual origin of govern-
ment.
This needs to be ftilly comprehended ; for if society
ever consisted of disintegrated individuals, standing
on an equality, and an attempt had been made to
construct something unknown before, to be called a
government, all would have had an equal right to
take part in such construction. But consisting as
society did of families, and needing only such ex-
tension and modification of principles of government
already existing as should secure in wider relations
the conditions of well-being previously secured in
the familv, there would be not only a natural right
SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT, ETC, 26t
but a necessity, that in the formation of civil govern-
ment families should be represented by their heads.
Such a work could n jt have been done by the body
Df those whose rights were to be secured, and, if
formally done, the heads of families would be the
divinely appointed representatives to do it. If
these were to meet and adopt such a form of gov-
ernment as should seem to them best adapted to
secure civil liberty, that government would not
stand simply as tlie product of human wisdom and
will, but, as growing out of relations divinely consti-
tuted, would have divine authority.
But no such formal meeting was originally held.
With no discussion of abstract rights, by a move-
ment spontaneous, gradual, self-adjusting, as all
primitive movements for the attainment of ends in-
dicated by nature are, government would naturally
grow out of the union of several families having a
common origin, the head and natural representative
of each family caring for its interests as occasion
might arise. In this way, but for usurpations and
abuses, government might have gone on indefinitely.
In some cases, as throughout the East, these usur
pations and abuses were such as to crush out liberty,
and produce permanent degradation and hopeless-
ness among the people. In others they have
resulted in agitation, revolution, discussion of rights,
and in attempts to found governments on such
rights.
So instinctive, however, has been the tendency
268 MORAL SCIENCE.
above indicated to crystallize into governments by
an inherent force, that formal declarations ^^^^^f
of rights had scarcely been thought of J"™^™.
till our own revolution, and then their ™™''"
effect was less than has generally been supposed.
There was no destruction of old governments, and
construction of new ones on the basis of principles
formally laid down. The colonial governments
were continued. The laws were essentially the
same under the Confederation as before, though the
seat of sovereignty was changed ; and when the
Constitution was formed there was simply a new
distribution of some of the essential powers of gov-
ernment, and a new mode of appointing those by
whom the government should be administered. It
was not the object to find a new basis of govern-
ment, but such a mode of appointing its officers and
such a distribution of its functions as should give
the best guarantee that its ends should be secured.
There had been abuse, and the object was to guard
against that. The inquiry then was, and is now,
how government may be so guarded from abuse
ta to secure for all that civil liberty which is iti
end.
CHAPTER VIII.
OOTBKNMENT REPRESENTATIVE AND INSTRUMKNTAL I
THE RIGHT OF SUFFRAGE.
If we suppose government to have originated as
above, spontaneously, formally, or in whatever way,
it is plain that those who take part in it, whether in
its original formation, or by voting or by holding of-
fice, must act largely in a representative capacity.
They must act for the children, the sick, the infirm,
the insane, the criminal, the absent. If adult women
were permitted to vote, there would still remain a
large majority who could take no part in the gov-
ernment, and whose rights could be secured only
as they were thus represented. Hence all con-
cerned in government act as trustees and guardians.
Government is not an end, it is instrumental. It is
■IS a bridge over which all must pass, and what
society cares for is to have a bridge that will carrj'
all safely over. It is in that that essential rights
and interests are involved, and society has a right
to see that only those are engaged in building the
bridge who know how, and are disposed to build it
well.
But if government be thus representative and
270 MORAL SCIENCE.
instiumental, it will follow, since natural rights b&
long to all, that the right to take part in j^^^j ^
it, whether by voting or holding office, ^''^01'°
cannot be a natural right ; and also that *"*"««•
society will have the right to say who shall exercise
that right, and on what conditions. Hence society
may rightfully require that voters and office-holders
shall be above a certain^ age, shall have a certain
degree of education, shall have committed no infa-
mous crime, and the like.
It also follows from the representative character
of voting, that tlie exercise of the right gu^ageaa
becomes a duty, and that citizens cannot ^"'^'
treat it, as they frequently would, as a persona]
right or privilege which they may rightfully at their
pleasure forego ; but it imposes a solemn obligation,
requiring in the voter the exercise of his intelligence
and discretion, if not for himself, at least for the sake
of others who cannot take part in the government,
and even for the sake of posterity, who will one day
inherit his work, and be affected by his care or his
neglect. So essential is this that society might com-
pel the exercise tf this right, and insist that those
to whom it is comr. litted shall not lay it lightly aside,
nor be allowed to shield themselves under the idea
that it is a personal right and privilege, and thus
stand idly by while others inflict an injury on soci
ety ; but might require of tliem, as of more formal
guardians and trustees, that they sliall act for the
Denefit of their wards, though they may not care
GOVERNMENT, ETC. 271
efficiently for their own rights, as members of soci-
ety, to protect them.
But while it is undeniable that the right of suf-
Bight of frage extends to interests far beyond those
toufeire'd. of the individual who may claim to exer-
cise it, and hence that no individual can claim to
exL'j-oiso it as a natural right, it still remains a duty
for society to confer this right in the most just and
secure manner tliat human wisdom can devise.
And here it is to be said that there has doubtless
been from the first the spontaneous and unconscious
operation of a print'.iple which should be a control-
ling one, that is, that those should vote on any sub-
ject on whom tlie responsibility with reference to
it falls. It has seemed right that those who are to
go to war should determine the question of war,
and that those who are liable to do military and
police duty, and sit on juries, who are to work on
the highways and pay the taxes, should vote on
those subjects ; that those, in short, whoever they
may be, who do the fighting, and the working, and
the tax-paying, sliould also do the voting. It would
be quite as unjust that war should be declared
hrough the votes of women anil children who could
take no part in it, as that men should impose taxes
on projierty which women have acquired. If it be
said that the interests of women are as much opposed
to war as those of men, and that they would never
urge and inaugurate and perpetuate one in oppo-
sitiop to the judgmeijt of the ijien, this is refijte<3
272 MORAL SCIENCE.
by what occurred at the South during our late civil
war, for it is well known that the war was intensi-
fied and prolonged by the spirit of the women,
though they had no power to vote. If women and
children had taken an active part in the great duties
and responsibilities of society, beyond question they
would have been allowed to vote.
But accounting thus for what has been, we inquire
what ought to be. On what principle Basiaofth*
ought society to confer the right of taking suffrage.
part in the government ?
And here it is plain that no one ought to be ex-
cluded arbitrarily, that is, unless such exclusion is
required by the ends of government. In this view
all ao-ree on two ^rounds of exclusion. One is in-
competence, the other presumed hostility to the
government. On these grounds minors, foreigners
not naturalized, criminals, and those who have
jhown hostility to tlie government, are excluded.
This being conceded, and putting aside for the
moment the question in regard to women, the one
great princij)le which must be observed by society
in conferring the right of suffrage, and which is
practically found to be the foundation and safeguard
of civil liberty, is that that right should be attainable
Dj' all. It is to be something attainable by all, not
possessed. Thus society may require that all voters
shall have attained a uniform and discreet age, but
distinctions may not be drawn between the rich and
the poor, the white and the black, the learned anq
GOVERNMENT, ETC. 273
the unlearned. To the youth of each of these
classes society may rightly say that when they reach
Buch age, and not till then, they shall come equally
into possession of this right.
Nor may society impose any condition upon the
right of suffrage which the mass of the people can-
not comply with. Thus society may not requiro
that voters shall be free from sin, but may require
that they shall be free from crime, for a moral life
is a condition with which all can comply. Thus
society may not limit the right of suffi'age to pro-
found mathematicians, nor to men learned in the
ancient languages, for these would necessitate talent
and education not practically withm the reach of
every youth ; but it may require that every voter
shall be able to read the English language, for that
is attainable by every American youth, and neces-
sary, in the present age, to secure an ordinary intel-
ligence.
Such is the basis on which the right of sufirage
should be conferred. Forbidding that the right
should be withheld from any race or class as such,
and that any part of society should have or exercise
the right of excluding any other part, it secures to
every person the right to rise.
But besides the right of sufirage, which is the
Bight of right to take a part in the affairs of the
Bon. government, there is a totally distmct right,
% right of repi-esentation. These two are oflen
corfounded, bxit are distinct, for those who do no<
18
2'i 4 MORAL SCIENCE.
V^ote are still entitled to be represented. In prac-
tical effect, as in theory, tlie child is represented by
the father, and the wife by the husband. All indi-
viduals have an interest in government, and where
the individual possesses an interest, that interest
necessitates and confers a right, for wherever there
is a right to govern there must also be a right to be
governed rightly. The representative in the legis-
lature represents far more than the minority of men
who voted for him. He represents their opponents
who voted against him, their wives and children
who did not vote, and he represents, and is bound
to provide for the well-being of even criminals who
have forfeited the right to vote. This generahty
of representation is sought to be secured by what is
termed " manhood suffrage," and it is this which
must prevent one class from dominating over or ex-
cluding another from the substantial right of repre-
eentation, and which must secure to all that equal
protection and care without which civil liberty can
but imperfectly exist.
There is also a right of representation which in
this country has received but little favor Represent*-
. , . 1 . . Hon of
IT attention as yet, but which may in time property,
be found essential to the existence of popular gov-
ernment, and that is the representation of propertv
as distinct from the representation of persons. Mer
owii certain common duties to society, and society
owes a certain common protection to them, bul
thero aie also expenses of government which are iio
GOVERNMENT, ETC. 275
drawn equally from all men, but wliich are contrib-
ated in different proportions by individuals. This
principle is very old, and has borne an important
part in the history of the Anglo-Saxon race, it hav-
ing been enunciated as early as Magna Charta in
the declaration that taxes should be laid only with
the consent of the taxed given through the " Com-
mons " in Parliament ; and again in the Bill of
Rights ; and again in the revolution of the Amer-
ican colonies, where the principle in question was
the power to tax without the consent of the taxed,
or without representation. There exists now the
case of unmarried women holding property on which
the government imposes taxes without affording a
correlative right of representation ; and there is also
the case of resident aliens whose property is taxed
in the same way. This withholding of representa-
tion from tax-paying women, and at the same time
requiring them to contribute equally with men to
\he ordinary expenses of government, already strikes
!ie common mind as injustice ; and it may be that
the growing interests of civilization will one day re-
quire that these two bases of representation shall be
separated, and that one branch of the legislature
shall represent property, and be chosen by those
who contribute towards the expense of maintaining
government, and that all such shall be allowed to
>;ike pai't in the government to that extent, what-
ever mav be their nationality, race, r.r sex. Of the
Sijuitv of such representation there can be no ques-
276 MOEAL SCIENCE.
tion. Government is supported wholly by property ;
the .arger portion of legislation respects property,
and it may readily happen in communities like the
city of New York, where irresponsible and destitute
foreigners are constantly made voters, that great in-
security and oppression should result from subject-
ing property to the control of mere numbers.
We have thus the family as the unit of society.
We have government as necessarily rep- Has woman
. 1 . „ , a right to
resentative. We have a right m all the Tote.
members of society to representation; to protection
in all their rights ; to be governed rightly. We have
also the two grounds on which persons have been
called on to take part in the government : responsi-
bility for personal service, and the support of the
o-overnment by their property. With these ele-
ments we inquire whether the right of suffrage
sliould be extended to woman. The question is
not whether she has a natural right to vote, for
none have that, but whether her own elevation and
best influence, and the ends of society require that
that right should be bestowed upon her.
This question has been discussed as if the sexes
tonstituted different classes, and as if there were,
or could be, in their real interests, a conflict be-
tween them. That is a great mistake. A man ana
his wife are not of a different class ; and their in-
terests, together with those of their family, are
identical. The very existence of society, indeed,
iejiends on men and women as entering into a specia
GOVERNMENT, ETC. 277
relation which not only unites their interests, as in
a partnership, but identifies them, and makes each
sex reciprocally the guardian of the otliei*. The
cases where this relation does not exist are strictly
exceptional, and society is not organized, and djes
not exist for exceptional cases.
This question, therefore, should not come in the
form of a partisan discussion, but of a mutual in
quiry what the rights of woman are, and how she
may be elevated to the highest point in culture and
legitimate influence. And upon such an inquiry
man should enter with no less alacrity and candor
than woman, for if there be anything which mus'
react with swift retribution upon society, it is any
needless ignorance or degradation of its wives and
mothers.
The family, as has been said, is the unit of society.
This character of it should be, and unconsciously is,
one of tlie most cherished objects of Christian civil-
ization, and unhappy will be the nation whose legis-
lative mind shall regard society simply as a mass of
individuals, and not as a combination cf families.
The family being regarded tiius, as a divine institu-
tion sufficing for itself, and society being regarded as
a combination of families, society will have a double
life, or ratlier, its one life will be within two spheres.
There will be the domestic life of the family, and
the public life of society. Of these the family is
the more important and sacred, and over this in its
domestic life, it is the duty and dignity and happi-
278 MOKAL SClEiN'CE.
ness of woman to preside. Tliis is her spiiere, iiol
inferior to tiiat of man, but different from it. Here
she has not only a right to vote, but to rule. If, as
is to be sujjjiosed, she is fitted for her place, nothing
will be added to tlie dignity of the husband or to
the hapj)iness of the family by any interference with
lier where the responsibility properly falls upon her.
Tlie s])here of society on the other hand belongs to
man, at least it lias been hitherto regarded as belong-
ing to him. For the support of its institutions and
for those duties more immediately required for its
welfare he is res])onsible. Here man has the right
to vote, and notliing will be added to the dignity of
the wife or to the happiness of society by any inter-
ference of the wife where the responsibility properly
fulls upon the husband. By a natural relation, and
so by the appointment of God, the wife is the centre
of the domestic circle, the chief source of its happi-
ness, and giiai'dian of her husband's interests and
rights in all that pertains to it. By a natural rela-
tion the iiusband is the house-band, the provider for
its wants, its defender, and the guardian of the
rights of the wife as of the children in their relations
to society. He is the natural representative of both.
The wife is not a child, but according to the Chris-
ian conception is nearer than that, is one with her
liusbiuid, and their interests are one. If we suppose
»ociety composed of families alone, and if the rightf
»f wives and children would not be secured by giv-
ing to every husband and tatlier a share in the gov
GOVERNMENT, ETC. 279
crnmetit, the fault would not bo in the system, bal
Ml individual corruption that would work itself out
wliatcvei- system might be adopted. Women have
had wrongs, and so have children. These must be
...dressed, but this will not be done by disregard-
ing any relation established by God. If ])arents
and children, and husbands and wives, will act in
the spirit of those relations, society will be perfected.
If they will not do that, no political relations will
avail. The same spirit on the part of men that
wo;ald concede the right of voting, would concede
and secure in a representative capacity every right
without that.
For each of the spheres above spoken of, men
and women are fitted respectively by their physical
organization and by their mental instincts and ten-
dencies, and their relations to the children require
that the fplieres should be kept separate, h is not
that man is not competent to set the table and rock
the cradle, or that woman is not competent to vote.
It is because the one life of society will work itself
out in more perfect results, if these two great but
interdependent spheres be left to those who natu-
rally have charge of them.
But while the above is said, society is to hold it-
Bclf ready to make any changes which its changing
modifications may require. In the primitive stages
i)f society, when the chief business of governments
was to carry on offensive or defensive war, women
iiad no desire to take part in government, and tlieii
280 MORAL SCIKNCE.
presence would have been an inconvenience and
injury. But society has now greatly advanced, sc
that there are many fields, especiallj' that of educa-
tion, in which ^vomau may properly act, and in
which her aid will be an advantage to society ; and
it is j)ossible that in a future and higher stage of
progress these fields will be increased, and woman
be assigned to perform her definite part in the gov-
ernment. Yet so long as the sexes remain fused in
one common mass, as has always been the case with
Bociety, so long the indiscriminate mingling of the
sexes, either in the domestic sphere or in the gen-
eral management of government, will be found an
inconvenience, a source of embarrassment and weak-
ness. If, however, it should be found advantageous
to society and to woman herself that the number of
her employments should be increased, and her re-
Bponsibility to society enlarged, there would probably
be no opposition to a corresponding enlargement of
the right of suffrage.
If we adopt this view of the family as the unit
of society, and of the natural right of representa-
tion, the principle which it contains Avill harmonize
and protect all interests. Let the family be regarded
as the unit of society, and the principle adhered to
of giving to each unit a single and equal represen-
tation, and society may provide for exceptional cases
tj general laws. Such cases arise when the chil-
ilren of a family reach maturity and do not marry
ind in the case of widows who are the heads of
GOVKKNMENT, ETC. 281
feinilies. For the case of widows no remedy is pro-
vided, but ill equity there should be. When the
sons of a family reach the age of manhood they go
forth and become, in theory as in fact, the stocks of
new famiUes, which sooner or later they support,
maintain, and represent, and hence they are mad^
responsible for the duties and burdens of society.
They may not, indeed, instantly marry and become
the heads of new families, but they are preparing
for that, and are essentially doing the work of main-
tauiing the future family by the work of preparation.
The daughters, on the contrary, remain at home,
and are identified in its interests with the old family
until they are taken forth to form parts of new fam-
ilies. They do not go forth by themselves, nor un-
dertake the work of preparation, but stay protected,
maintained, and represented in and by the original
stock. Perhaps, exceptionally, they may acquire
property, and in the contemplation of law, establish
for themselves new homes. Society will never fos-
ter such a system, for it would be prejudicial to its
own ends ; but nevertheless it might protect t!ie in-
dividual by allowing her to exercise the suffrage of
property representation. The right of personal
Buffi-age she could hardly ask, and society would
hardly allow, except as she should be willing ant!
fitted to do the work of the juror, the policeman,
the sheriff, tlie soldier, — except as she should be-
come subject to all the duties and responsibilities oj
nrhicli the great interests of society depend.
282 MOKAL SCIENCE.
In sjjeaking on this subject nothing has been said
Eiitherto of sentiment and a sense of propriety as
(listingiii.slied from rights, and nothing need be, ex-
cept as those indicate, as natural sentiment always
does, vvliat is right. But sentiment depends so much
upon custom, and custom is so varied and capri-
cious that it is difficult to know what natural sen-
timent is. Througliout the East it shocks the sense
'jf propriety for a woman to appear in public un-
veiled, or to walk tlie streets arm-in-arm with her
husband, probably even more than it would here for
ner to vote and take part in the stormy debates of a
town meeting. Still, sentiment has a real basis. In
reading tlie account lately given by a missionary of
Iiis finding a man in the house knitting and his wife
at work in the field, we cannot help feeling that the
sense of ludicrous impropriety as well as of indigna-
tioii is well founded. That there is in the minds of
\arge portions of the peojile of this country — perhaps
stronger among tlie well educated and refined, and
stronger among women than men — a feeling of pro-
priety that would be offended by the promiscuous
mingling of women with men in the conduct of pub-
lic affairs, cannot be questioned. It is the sentiment
vhich makes woman strong through her weakness.
It lay at the foundation of all that was good in
hivalry. It has been a strong auxiliary to Chris-
.•ian piinciple in elevating woman. It sets her apart
n\ many liearts as something sacred, and adds to life
»therwise hard and prosaic, much of its beauty
GOVEKNMENT, KTC. 283
f'or lliis suiitlmout Americans are distinguished. It
eliould be elierislied I'ather than weakened, and if, as
many think, it would be destroyed, or essentially
impaired by extending the suffrage to woman, those
who wish her elevation will hesitate long 'oefore tak-
ing such a step.
CHAPTER IX.
FOKMa OF GOVERXMENT. DUTIES OF MAGI8TKATJ!8
AND CITIZENS.
After considering elementary points so fully, it
will not be necessary to spend much time on the more
beaten grounds of forms of government, and of the
rights and duties of citizens and of magistrates.
Governments have always been classed as Mon-
archies, Aristocracies, and Democracies, ^^^^^^f
but substantially they are now, and indeed f^^n'SST'
always have been, either monarchical or ""'■
republican. There are indeed privileged classes, as
in England, who have an hereditary share in the
government, but there is no government that is in
fact or in form aristocratic.
Monarchies are either absolute or limited, as the
power rests with one man alone or is divided witli
others. The monarch may be elective, or heredi-
tary, though of an elective monarchy there is now
no example. That the monarchy should be liered-
itaiy conduces to the stability of the govenmient,
ind to peace.
Democracies, that is governments by the people
hepiseives. instead of by representation, are impo»
FORMS Oi GOVliKNMENT, ETC. 28o
BJWe except for very binall coniuuinitics. Repub-
lican government is representative and. elective.
Tliere may be a simple independent republic, such
lis the several States were before the formation
of the Federal Union, or there may be a federal
reimblic, vv'ith ])owers divided between the cnntral
iTovernment and the several states.
The object of government, that is, security in the
enjoyment of every right, may be attained under
any form. A monarch may concede every right,
and his character may give security, but practically
it is found that rights are best secured where a large
amount of power is retained in the hands of the
people, and where the government itself is one of
checks and balances.
The essential condition of freedom and security
is that the three great functions of govern-
M^amtin ment, the Legislative, the Judicial, and the
function of Executive, should be kept distinct, and
government. s},ou](i be in different hands. Let the
laws be made by one set of men, witli penalties fixed
before transgression ; let the question of an infrac-
tion of law and the declaration of the penalty be in
the hands of anotiier set of men, and the execution
of tlie sentence in still other hands, and a good de-
gree of security and freedom can hardly fail to be
enjoyed. Still, much will depend on the method in
which the legislative body and the judiciary are
appointed and constituted. The object is the bes
l^ws and their perfeci administration. Society i
286 MORAL SCIENCE.
Ilierefore bound to elect men of wisdom and integ-
rity, and laws passed by such men after due deliber-
ation will be all that can be reached in the present
imperfect state.
To secure due deliberation- and a view of eacli
subject upon all its sides, the legislature Twoieg-
should consist, and commonly does, of two bodies,
bodies. In some cases these are elected in different
methods and serve for different periods, and this
would seem best adapted to secure the end. It
gives opportunity also for the representation of everj'
interest.
It has been thought in tliis country that the office
of legislation was a right and a privilege j^^^
to be enjoyed in rotation, with little refer- '""O™-
ence to integrity and wisdom, especially with little
reference to any s])ecial knowledge of the science of
legislation. If the legislative body be numerous,
such a theory will be comparatively harmless if a
fair proportion of competent legislators be elected.
In such bodies the business is really done by a few,
and if the numbers that serve simply as ballast do no
positive mischief, there is little objection to the prin-
ciple of rotation for them. Crude legislation how-
ever is too great an evil to be lightly incurred, and
too many men may not be set aside just as experience
vould render their services valuable. Society owes
it to itself to see that its legislation moves on in the
full light of the experience of the past, and of the
■jest t^'ent and wisdom of the present.
FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, ETC. 287
Laws having been made, and penalties annexed,
The ladi- CEses will arise under them, respecting both
''"' property and crime, that will require a ju-
diciary department. The sure and speedy and
inexpensive administration of justice is an essential
condition of the well-being of a people. The speed-
iest and least expensive method of reaching this is
by a single judge deciding cases on the spot, or, in
cases of importance and difficulty, two others might
be added. The objection to this is the danger of
passion, prejudice, and corruption. Hence juries
and courts of appeal have been introduced. These
have guarded against corruption, but have in many
cases so been the means of delay and expense that
the rich could baffle and worry out the poor, and
that it is often better pecuniarily to lose a just claim
than to contest it in law. Such a state of things
is disgraceful to civilization and to Christianity, and
should be remedied by an enlightened people. What
is needed is an impartial and competent judiciary,
through which speedy and inexpensive justice may
be reached. This end has been sought not merely
through the constitution of the judiciary, but also
through the mode of its appointment, and the ten-
ure of office. Obviously these should be such as to
Becure the appointment of the best men, and that
the judge himself shall be unaffected in his prospects
und private interests by his decisions. That these
conditions should be secured by an elective judi-
ciary, holding office for a limited and comparativelj
288 MORAL SCIENCE.
brief binie, would not seem possible in the preaent
state of public morals.
It is the business of the executive to see that the
laws are enforced, and that all sentences ng„-
of the judiciary are carried out. The """•""
executive also represents the majesty of the na-
tion before other nations, and in all international
transactions is the medium of communication with
them. The character of these duties demands that
they be performed by a single person.f If the ex-
ecutive have, as he should have, to guard his own
prerogatives, a veto power, he is so far a part of the
legislature ; but beyond that his sole business is to
execute the laws. This he must do, certainly, as he
understands tliem. He must execute a law in what
he supposes to be its true intent and meaning, seek-
ing, if there be doubt, the best aid from legal ad-
visers. But when a law has been passed, having
fully tlie forms of law, he must accept it as such,
and may not delay or refuse its execution on the
ground of its alleged unconstitutionality, though, if
t]i(3re be doubt, he may take immediate measures to
have the constitutionality of the law tested.
To secure always a suitable executive has been a
great problem. In most nations the executive of-
fice lias bean hereditary. This has many advan-
tages. It tends to stability and a uniform policy,
«.nd prevents the excitement and corruption incident
to an election. Besides, in many countries an intel-
ligent and patriotic election would be impossible.
In this country the executive is elective, virtual!)
FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, ETC. 289
by the whole people, and hitherto the strain has not
been found too great. Whether this will continue
to be the case when wealth shall he Indefinitely in-
creased, and interests shall be extended and compli-
cated, is a problem. It can only be as there shall
be a virtue and an intelligence among the people
iiitherto unknown. Probably the danger would be
diminished, if the tenure of office were for six years,
with no possibility of a reelection.
The duties of the citizen are, 1st. To ohey the
Firat duty l^ws SO far as liis conscience will allow him
lit^a- ^° '^'^ so* ^^ is possible for men to cherish
obedience. willfuIncss and fanaticism under the pre
tense of conscience, and the presumption is in favor
of the law as right, and of the obligation of the citi-
zen to obey. Still there have been, and are liable to
be, under all forms of government, wicked laws, and
if, with the best light a man can gain, he shall deem
it wrong to obey a law, he is bound to disobey it, and
take the consequences whatever they may be. He is
bound to obey God rather than men.
2. The citizen is bound to bear cheerfully his
Beoondduty; sharc of the burdens of government, and
to taxation, of socicty. Whether called upon for per-
sonal service, or for property in the way of taxation,
he is to stand in his place and do his part without
subterfuge or evasion.
3. So far as his influence goes he is bound to see
Third dntyi that the best men are selected as candi-
wfi4». dates for office, and so to cast his vot«
ts will most benefit the country.
19
^iUO MORAL SCIENCE.
4. The citizen is bound to give his aid in all at-
tempts to secure the rights of others, and ponrthduty
to enforce law and order. He may not ^^1^™™
stand supinely by and see the right of '"°°'-
property violated. If, through general supineness,
tlie property of individuals be destroyed by a mob,
society is bound to make it good. Against the ten-
dency of liberty to license, and of license again to
despotism, every citizen is to guard.
If we look at history, or at the state of most
countries now, we cannot value civil lib- vaineof
erty too highly. Hitherto it has existed "''" """'^
but imperfectly, and has reached its present posi-
tion only through great sacrifices and struggles.
Tlie end of government, as for the individual, the
ground of human rights, and the rights themselves,
liave not been well understood. These are now
understood by some, and it lias become possible to
instruct a whole people in them. Let this be done,
and if, in connection with such instruction and the
advancing light of science the community may but
t)e so pervaded by the spirit of Christianity that a
permanent and constantly advancing civilization
may be possible, there will be nothing to prevent the
attainment by man of all the perfection and happi-
ness of wliich the present state will admit. Tlie
highest earthly conception is that of a vast Christian
•ommonwealth, instinct with order, and with such
triumphs and dominion over nature as modern
tcience is acliieving, and promises to acliieve.
CLASS m.
DUTIES TO GOn
CHAPTER L
DUTIES TO GOD DEFINED.
Duties to God are distinguished from otliers by
ii«iRaonto having God for their object. It is one
Mher^duties; ^\^^J^g f^j. ti,g giibject to disregard the sov-
reat duty, gj-gign indirectly by breaking his laws in
injuring a fellow subject, it is another for him to
meet that sovereign personally and show towards
him disregard or contempt. There are accordingly
both duties and sins of which God is the immediate
object, and which have reference to Him alone.
Such are worship, and blasphemy. It is this capacity
of coming directly to God that makes man a child,
or rather it is the necessary result of his being a
child.
So far as we can separate religion from morality
BeUgion religion consists in those duties of which
guiBhed God is the object. That these cannot be
ndity. performed acceptably except on condition
of performing our duties to our fellow men has at
292 MOBAL SCIENCE.
ready been shown. In this sense our duties to ova
fellow men are conditional for those to God, and so
lower. Whether they are also conditional as prior
in time is less clear. Many suppose that the moral
nature is first called into action towards man, and
observation favors this. But the relation of God tc
the soul as Creator and as all-pervading in his
presence, and the necessary idea which, according
to some, is formed of Him from the first, has led
others to the belief that the moral nature is first
stirred towards God, and that there can be no form
of duty without some reference to Him.
But be this as it may, while all must allow that
there can be no genuine religion without j^^^^^
morahty, it is generally supposed there can ^^mS*
be morality without religion. This may ""'^'J'-
be differently viewed as we suppose morality to con-
sist in outward conduct, or in a state of the heart.
There are many reasons why outward conduct should
be in accordance with the rules of morality, though
it may not proceed from love. Doubtless, also, the
moral nature, in common with the other parts of our
nature, and taking its turn with them, is constantly
brought into activity towards men with no conscious
reference to God. But if we mean by morality the
love of our neighbor as a paramount and controlling
principle, and by perfect morality the love of our
neighbor as ourselves, then there is no reason to
«uppose that it can exist without religion. The
principle in each is identical, and supposing God t«
DUTIES TO GOD DEFINED. 293
be known, they reciprocally imply each other. Cer
lainly this is the only morality that has an adequate
basis, or that can be relied on as consistent.
With this view of the relation to each other of
tliese two branches of duty, we inquu'e what those
duties are of which God is the object.
And here the first and great duty of every one is,
Man'« great *" ^^'"^ Mmself to Grod. This is the great-
*"'^' est and most solemn of all acts. It in-
volves the highest possible prerogatives of a creature,
and is the highest possible privilege as well as duty.
The whole wisdom of man lies in his confiding him-
self impHcitly to the guidance of the divine wisdom,
and to the protection of the divine power. It was
by withdrawing himself from this guidance and pro-
tection that man sinned originally ; he can be
restored only by accepting them anew.
As Creator, God is the absolute owner of aU
things. As omnipotent. He can do with them as
He pleases. But if He would be a Father and
Moral Governor He must have children and subjects
in his own image, and with the prerogative of
choosing or rejecting Him as their supreme good.
Control by force, order by an impulse from'without,
is the opposite of control by love, and of order from
a rational choice, and the highest duty of man is to
give himself in the spirit of a chUd, that is by faith,
to God.
The above will include everything. W'.oever
bolds himself fully and constantly in the afjlude tr
294 MORAL SCIENCE.
God of a child, does all that he can. This will in-
rlude love and obedience. Still we need to specify
in three particulars —
1. The cultivation of a devotional spirit ;
2. Prayer ; and
8. The keeping of the Sabbath.
CHAPTER n.
CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIOHAL 8FIKIT.
A DEVOTIONAL Spirit may be cultivated —
1. By tlie exercise of devotion. This is on the
principle that all our active powers are strengthened
by exercise. There is no active power that does not
gain facility and scope by repeated acts under the
direction of will.
2. A devotional spirit may be cultivated by a
right use of Nature.
The physical universe is but a visible expression
uf the power and the thought of God.
This power and thought are seen in the very con-
stitution of matter. It was not any matter, but
such matter, and in such proportions, that was
•leeded for the forms that we see, and for vital pro-
cesses. The varieties and affinities and relative
quantities of matter as much show that it was created,
and for a purpose, as its forms and movements show
that it is used for a purpose. It is therefore the
voice of Science as well as of Revelation thsit He
" hath measured the waters in the hollow of his
^and, »nd ijieted out heaven " — that is the ex^epjt pi
296 MORAL SCIENCE.
the atinospliere — " with the span, and comprehended
the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the
mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance."
But the more obvious manifestations of thought
and power are in form and movement. It is in the
forms that we see, so diversified — some changing,
some j)ermanent, each adapted to an end — together
with those uniform and recurring movements which
reveal unlimited force and skill, that what we call
Nature consists. Through this we gain our concep-
tions of beauty, and of the most perfect adaptation
of means to ends. Physical science is but the
thought of God expressed through this. Upon this,
suspended as it is in immensity, so vast in its magni-
tudes, so miglity in its forces, so perfect in its organi-
zations even the most minute, so extended yet pre-
cise in its periods, no one can look without wonder,
unless it be from ignorance or criminal stupidity.
Rut all tills may be regarded with two habits of
mind utterly different.
Tlirougli tlie element of uniformity in nature it is
possible to regard it as having no relation to a per
Bonal God. Through that element God so hides
himself behind his works that very many are prac-
tically, and some tlieoretically, pantheistic or athe-
istic. They see nothing in Nature but impersonaj
forces and fixed relations.
A devotional spirit is the opposite of this
Through Nature it sees God. It sees, and culti-
vates the habit of seeing Him in everything. Tc
CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 297
such a spiiit tlie earth and tlie heavens are a teniple,
the only temple worthy of God. , To it the succes-
sion of day and night and the march of the seasons
are constant hymns. To it, not the heavens alone,
hut the whole frame-work and structure of Nature
with its ongoings " declare the glory of God."
This is the spirit which it is the duty and hapjn
ness of man to cultivate. The highest use of
Nature is not the support of man, but to lead him
up to God.
3. A devotional spirit may also be cultivated by
observing the Providence of God as it respects
Nations, individuals, and particularly ourselves.
The warp of our earthly life is those uniformities,
called laws, without which there could be no educa-
tion of the race, and no rational conduct. But these
laws intersect a-nd modify each other. They are so
related to the results of human will, and the results
of different wills apparently unrelated so combine and
converge to unexpected ends, as to have produced
an impression almost universal that the filling in of
those seeming contingencies which go to make up
the completed pattern of our lives is controlled by
wise design. In this is Providence. This it is that
\n every age takes Joseph from the pit and makes
nim ruler of Egypt. Through this it is that the
»rrow shot at a venture finds the joints of the har-
ness. Here, as in Nature, it is possible for men to
eubstitute something else, as chance, or fate, for
God ; but those who believe in Him will nowhere
298 MOKAL SCIENCE.
find more striking evidence of a divine hand, and
" he who will observe the Providence of God wiU
have providences to observe."
4. But the main nutriment of a devotional spirit
nmst be found in the Scriptures.
In the Scriptures we have an unequivocal revela-
tion of God as personal, and so of his attributes as
moral. It is only in view of personality and moral
attributes that devotion can spring up. Sentiment
and sentimentalism there may be in view of force
regarded as impersoTial, but not devotion, not wor-
ship. These require a Father in Heaven, an infinite
God, universal in his government and perfect in his
moral character. Whatever may be said of the
truth of the Scriptures, it is demonstrable that the
God whom they reveal must call forth the highest
possible adoration, and hence that the knowledge of
God as revealed in them must, more than anything
else can, quicken intelligent devotion. The attri-
butes and character of God as made known in the
Scriptures hold the same relation to devotion that
the infinity of space, and the awful force that sus-
tains and moves in it the array of suns and planets,
holds to the emotion of sublimity ; and as nothing
can supersede infinite space in that relation, so noth-
ing can supersede the God of the Bible as the
ground and stimulus of the highest possible devo-
tion.
Thus recognizing God in the three great modes
Ui which He is revealed, in Nature, in Providencs,
CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 299
uid m Revelation, we shall cultivate a devotional
ipirit.
„ ^ In contrast with a devotional spirit is
one that is crofane.
This may manifest itself in action or in speeclu
Tlie true conceptian of this world is that of a temple
involving both the ownership and the indwelling of
God. As there is nothing that God does not own,
any reckless or vicious use of what is his is a form
of profaneness. It is a profanation to convert what
God gave for food into a means of gluttony or
drunkenness. If travellers were to stop in a cara-
vansera, and in the presence of him who built and
furnished it were to destroy the food and injure the
furniture he had provided for all, he would be
grieved and justly incensed. It would be an un-
grateful disregard of his wishes, and an abuse of his
goodness. But this is what men do who pervert the
works of God from the end designed by Him, and
such conduct toward Him is profaneness.
But while this is really profaneness, and in an
aggravated form, it is not generally so regarded,
The term is commonly applied to some form of
speech implying disregard or contempt of God, or
of the sanctions of his mo'-al government ; and more
particularly to an irreverent use of his name. This
Is an offense that would excite astonishment if it
were not so common. It differs from others in be-
mg -vholly gratuitous, and is thus, perhaps, the most
striking evidence of the depravity of the race. Tha
300 MORAL SCIENCE.
thiet, the sensualist, the ambitious man has a temp-
tation that appeals to a natural desire; but that a
creature and child of God, supported wholly by his
goodness and responsible to Him, should wantonly
profane his name, could not beforehand be credited.
That there should be in Christian lands communities
in which such profaneness is thought an accomplish-
ment, and so an evidence of manhood that boys are
tempted to it on that ground, shows a standard of
manhood that has depravity for its essence.
Profaneness can be of no possible use to him who
indulges in it, or to any one else. If it were not
wicked it would be simply superfluous and ridicu-
lous. As it is, it is, as Robert Hall said, in allusion
to feudal times, merely " a peppercorn rent to show
that a man belongs to the devil." So far from giv-
ing, as some suppose, assurance of the truth of what
is spoken in connection with it, it is the reverse.
All observation shows, mine certainly does, what
might have been inferred without it, that he who
will swear, will lie. Why not? The practice is
»carcely less oifcnsive to a just taste than to a sen-
sitive conscience, and whoever may be guilty of it,
deserves to be not only condemned and abhorred,
but despised.
CHAPTER ni
PRAYER.
The second great duty which we owe exclusirelj
to God is Prayer.
Literally, prayer is supplication, it is asking ; but
Prayer ^^ commoiily used it includes all that we
worahip. mean by worship. It includes in addition
to supplication, adoration, confession, and thanksgiv-
ing. To a being like man each of these would seem
to be the dictate of nature. What more reasonable
than adoration in view of an Infinite Majesty ?
What more suitable than confession in view of guilt,
or than thanksgiving in view, not simply of good-
less, but of mercy, and of a love unutterable ?
What more natural than that the creature and
child, in view of his wants, should ask the Creator
and Owner of all, and his Father, to supply those
wants ? That each of these, excepting the last, is
not only suitable but a duty is generally conceded,
Dut that man should ask and that God should give
oecause of his askmg, has seemea to many incom
patible with the fixed order of nature, and with his
infinite attributes.
By asking is here meant, not simply desire ex-
802 MORAL SCIENCE.
pressed, but paramount desire. There must be
n desire fur the thing asked greater than Prayoris
, 1 111- paramount
tor anything else that would be mcom- desire,
patible with it. This is prayer, and nothing else is.
If a man may have either an estate or so much
money for the asldng, but cannot have both, how-
ever nuich he may desire the estate he cannot
really ask for it, unless he desires it more than the
money. And so, whatever desire a man may have
of heaven, or of the presence with him of the Spirit
of God, yet if he have a stronger desire for any form
of worldly good, any form of expression that he
miglit use in the guise of prayer would not be ask-
ing. It would be hypocrisy to the omniscient eye.
It is only a paramount desire presented to God with
the submission becoming a creature, that is prayer,
and the question is whether, in consequence of such
prayer, man will receive what he would not with-
out it.
On this point the Bible expresses no doubt.
There is in that no recognition of the dif- iesai„ony
P.culties raised by philosophy. It teaches "'"^'B""'
us how to pray ; it commands and exhorts us to
[)i-ay ; it gives us examples in great number and
variety of direct answers to prayer ; it makes prayer
an essential element of a Christian life ; it says ex-
plicitly, "Ask and ye shall receive." It would be
iu)[)ossible that the duty and efficacy of pray or
!ilu)uld be taught more clearly than they are in th«
IJlble.
PBAYEB. 803
These teachings of the Bible are confirmed bj
the analogy of our earthly life, and by the instinct
of the race.
From his infancy the child asks and receives.
. Asking is one of the two legitimate ap-
pointed ways in which his wants are to be
iupplied. For some things, and at some times, it is
the only way. It is just an expression of that de-
sire and dependence which are appropriate to the
relation of parent and cliild. Without recognized
dependence in the way of expressed desire on the
one hand, and an abihty and wilhngness to supply
wants thus indicated on the other, the chief beauty
and significance of the parental relation would be
gone. Can it be then that we have a Father in
heaven, and yet that the very feature which gives
warmth and beauty and value to the earthly relation
should be wanting ? Without this the name would
lose, in its transference to God, its chief significance,
and Christ would not be the benefactor He is sup-
posed to have been in teaching the race to say,
" Our Father."
On this point too the instinct of the race has been
roiceof manifested unequivocally. Universally, or
bBtinct. nearly so, when, as the Psalmist says, men
■'draw near unto the gates of death," when " they
that go down to the sea in ships " " mount up to the
heaven," and " go down again to the depths," " anc"
»re at their wits' end," " then they cry unto the
Lord in their trouble." Not only s^ieculatlve que*
304 MORAL SCIENCE.
lioners of the efficacy of prayer, but professed athe-
ists have often been brought tp extremities in which
this instinct has so asserted itself that they have
cried unto God.
It may also be doubted whether the highest bless-
ings can be received except on the condition of
asking. Health, rain, a prosperous journey, may
come to men whether they ask or not. But the
highest blessings are from the direct communion of
man with God. Tins is the great distinction of man,
that God himself may be his portion and good. To
be enjoyed, this blessing must be desii'ed and sought
for, and it can be sought for only by asking. To
obtain the larger number of blessings we need, we
must not only ask, but put fortli active exertion ; but
liere the only active exertion possible is the asking.
Nor would it seem fit that God should bestow this
blessing on any other condition. Other things may
come alike to all, but it might have been anticipated,
even if He could do it otherwise, that God would
give his Holy Spirit, as a sanctifier and comforter,
only to those who should ask Him.
Not only from the Bible, then, but from the anal-
ogy of our eartlily life, from our whole nature aa
practical, and from its necessary relation to our
Sigliest wants, should we infer the efficacy of asking,
Tlie question tlien recurs whether, in objection
Jie light of a philosophy that apprehends ta™JtabU-
nimutable law and tlie infinite attributes "J'""""-
tf God, all this be not a mere seeming and delusion
PRAYER. 805
To the efficacy of asking for the Holy Spii'it, oi
for any direct agency of God upon our minds, there
can be no objection from the immutabihty of phys-
ical law, since that can have no relation to what is
done immediately by a personal being. From this
Lighest region and sphere of prayer, therefore, no
cavil about fixed law can debar us. Nor, on the
view of the immutability of law (the only correct
one), taken by the Duke of Argyle in his " Reign
of Law," can any valid objection lie against the effi-
cacy of asking, for example, for rain. " There are,"
says he, "no phenomena visible to man of which
it is true to say that they are governed by any inva-
riable force. That which does govern them is
always some variable combination of invariable
forces. But this makes all the difference in reason-
ing on the relation of will to law — tliis is the one
essential distinction to be admitted and observed.
. . . . In the only sense in which laws are
immutable, this inmnitability is the very charac-
teristic which makes them subject to guidance
tlu-ough endless cycles of design. It is the very
certainty and invariableness of the laws of Nature,"
— that is, of each individual law taken separately —
" which alone enables us to use them, and yoke them
to our service." If, as some suppose, man can cause
i-ain by the firing of cannon, then it may be obtained
by asking it even of hmi. In such a case there
would be simply a different adjustment of invariable
laws ; and if results may be thus produced to some
20
806 MORAL SCIENCE.
extent by the intervention of human will without a
miracle, it cannot be irrational to suppose they may
be thus produced to any extent by the divine will.
The arrow shot at a venture that finds the joints of
tlie harness, is governed by ordinary laws. Nothing
bnt their nice adjustment is needed to carry it pre-
cisely there. The intervention of will is supposed,
but in no other relation to fixed law than that of the
human will when it causes ice by a fireezing mix-
ture. This removes a difficulty which has weighed
heavily on many minds.
There remains the objection from the objection
infinite attributes of God. Mnite*''
As infinite in knowledge, God knows "■""butes.
what we need before we ask Him. We can tell Him
nothing new. He also knows what events are to
be, therefore they cannot be changed. As infinite
in goodness, He will do for us what is best whether
we ask Him or not.
In obviating these difficulties, we may say —
1. That no one can read the speculations of such
men as Spinoza, Kant, Cousin, and Hamilton, upon
the Infinite, without feeling that they are dealing
with a subject which they do not fully grasp ; and
that it can never be wise to set the results of such
speculations in opposition to the practical principles
of our nature. The apparent contradictions result-
ing fiom these speculations were such that Kant
felt obliged to recognize or invent what he called a
Practical Reason, as the only basis of rationa
'onduct.
PBATEB. 807
2. Tlie objtctlon so makes God infinite as really
to limit Him, and virtually to deny his personality.
It makes it impossible for Him to be a Father, or
moral Governor. Prayer is an act of choke and
free will. So is murder. And if, because God is
infinite, and knows what is to be, and will do what
is best, it can make no diflFerencc with a man
whether he prays or not, for the same reason it can
make no difference whether he murders or not. It
will follow that God will do what He will do, with-
out reference to human conduct, which is subversive
of moral government, and a practical absurdity. If
we regard God as a person, and man also, the pos-
sibility of such direct intercourse as prayer involves
must be allowed ; nor can we conceive of a being,
especially of an Infinite Being, having fully the
attributes of personality, that is, being really God,
to whom it would be impossible to answer prayer.
Why not say that the immutable God immutably,
that is always, answers prayer ? The difficulty lies
in connecting personality with infinite attributes,
and those who deny that prayer may be efficacious,
•eally deny the personality and fatherhood of God.
It is to the fatherhood of God that we chng. To
that we turn with infinite relief, from those limitless
and dreary abstractions, which philosophy calls the
Infinite and the Absolute. Without that, we are
orphans : virtually, all is Fate. With that, nothing
ian rationally prevent the child from coming to the
Father, or even the sinner, when he sees evidence
808 MOKAL SCIENCE.
of placability, from coming " boldly unto the throne
of grace, that he may obtain mercy, and find grace
to help in time of need."
With this view of the nature and reasonableness
of prayer, it only remains to say that its j^^ ^^^
fo-m is of little consequence. Prayer is °' p™?"
more than desire — more than sincere desire. It
is paramount desire offered to God with a filial
spirit. Of necessity this will be both reverent and
finportunate. Such prayer, whether repeated from
memory, or read from a book, or, as would seeir
most natural, uttered directly from the promptings
»f the heart, is always heard.
CHAPTER IV.
THE SABBATH.
I'he last duty to be considered is the keeping til
the Sabbath.
To man, originally, the Sabbath must liave come
as a positive institution, since he could have seen
no reason for it, aside from the divine command.
It has since been commonly regarded as partly pos-
itive and partly moral. Now, how^ever, as a reason
can be assigned for it, and even for the proportion
of time designated, it may be regarded as wholly
moral.
In considering the Sabbath, we shall first treat of
the Religious, and then of the Civil Sabbath.
By the Religious Sabbath, we mean a day set
apart by God himself for his own worship, and to
secure, in connection with that, the religious cul-
ture and final salvation of men.
By the Civil Sabbath, we mean a day made
" non-legal," in which public business shall be sus-
pended, and in which all labor and recreation shall
be so far restrained, that the ends of a religious Sab-
bath may be secured by those who wish it.
310 MORAL SCIENCE.
In treating of the religious Sabbath, wc naturally
consider, first, its origin and history.
Concerning these, the points which the Mends ol
the Sabbath accept and regard as estabhshed are
the following : —
1. That the Sabbath was given to our first par-
ents in Eden, according to the account in Genesis
ii. 2, 3 ; and that it was intended for the race.
2. That we find unmistakable indications of the
Sabbath, both in tJie Scriptures and in heathen liter-
ature, between the original command and the giving
of the Law.
3. That when tlie Law was given, the command
to hallow the Sabbatli was made conspicuous, as
one of the ten commandments. That it has the
same rank as the other commandments, all of which
are moral in their character, and universally binding.
4. That during the subsequent history of the
Jews the Sabbath is referred to by the prophets in
a way to show that they classed it with the other
commandments, and that they regarded its obser-
vance as intimately connected with the prosperitv of
the nation.
5. That at the time of our Saviour the Sabbath
was observed with great strictness ; that the people
assembled regularly for public worship, and that
Moses and the prophets were read in the syna-
gogues every Sabbath-day. Also, that this worship
was attended by our Saviour, and that while He re-
proved the superstitious observances and over*
THE SABBATH. 811
iciiipulousness that had crept m, He yet recognized
the Sabbath as a divine institution, and as " made
tor man."
G. That after the resurrection of Christ the day
was changed, and that the Christian Sabbath, with
substantially the same ends, has been perpetuated
till the present time.
Tliese points liave been amply discussed by many
writers, and as they belong to history rather than
to philosophy, they will not be further noticed here.
We proceed to inquire what may be known of the
origin of the Sabbath, from the character and condi-
tion of man.
And here we observe that the rehgious Sabbath
authenticates itself as from God. This it does m
various ways.
1. Regarding man as sinful, taking him as we
now find him in every country where the Sabbath
is unknown, the very conception of a Jwly Sabbath
would have been impossible. There could have been
nothing within him or without him to suggest it.
2. Regarding men as selfish, the rich and the
powerful would never have originated an institution,
or consented to it, which would not only free laborers
and dependents and slaves from labor one se vent! i
of the time, but would require that time for the
service of another.
3. As the Sabbath corresponds with no cycle or
natural division of time, it must have been impos-
lible for any man, or number of men, to single oul
312 MORAL SCIENCE.
one day, and set it apart authoritatively. Man could
neither have decided rightly the proportion of time
to be set apart, nor have guarded the sanctity of
the day by penalties. If the division of time into
weeks were wholly unknown, it would be impossible
that it should be introduced by man.
4. Man could not have so associated the Sabbath
with the grandest ideas made known by revelation,
or possible to thought, as the creation of the world,
the resurrection of Christ, the outpouring of the
Spirit, and the rest of a holy heaven. He could
not have made it span the arch from the beginning
till the consummation of all things.
5. The Sabbath authenticates its divine origin
not only as it thus blends with the highest ideas and
interests of man, as connected with the past and the
future, but by its analogy with the works of God as
simple, and at the same time touching the interests
of the present life at so many points. In this it is
like the air and the water, which seem so simple,
yet subserve so many uses.
As thus impossible to have been originated by
man, as connected with the creation of the world,
with the resurrection of Christ, with the outpouring
if the Spirit, and with the rest of heaven ; being
analogous to nature, and promoting every interest
of time, we say that the religious Sabbath comes to
•pan bearing its own credentials as from God.
From the origin of the Sabbath we Thes»but»
turn to its necessity tor man. formao.
I. Of its necessity for man as an individual.
THE SABBATH. 313
Of this the first ground is the necessity man is in
toi reiigiouB °^ religious instruction. The religion of
IrUtoUOtlOn. tjjg gJljlg Jg JJQJ ^ fgj^ jjj^^ g^ ijg gong
through with mechanically, or a superstition that
can be inherited, or imposed upon ignorance. It is
a religion of light. This is its glory. But rational
ideas of God and of his worship, and of the duty
and destiny of man as a religious being, can no more
be reached without instruction than similar ideas of
civil society. Upon such instruction the Bible in-
sists, both in the Old Testament and in the New,
and for this, if it is to be made general, the Sabbath
is indispensable.
But it is not simply instruction that man needs.
Fotperautt- ^'^ nceds persuasion. Indifference and
'*'"'■ aversion are to be overcome. Men are
tempted to forget God, to neglect prayer, and make
light of accountability. They atre tempted to live,
and most men do live, for this world alone. Here
is the great need of a Sabbath. There is need of
time and opportunity to persuade men ; to go, if need
be, " into the iiighways and the hedges, and compel
them to come in."
But again, if we suppose an individual intelli-
for culture g^^^'j religious, the Sabbath Avould be
ud growth, needed for his culture and growth. Were
men open every day to the calls of society, and sub-
ject to the pressure of competition in business, the
tide of worldliness would become resistless. The
Sabbath brings the world to a solemn pause, as
J14 MORAL SCIENCE.
under the eye of God. It enables man to subordi-
late sense to faith, and hfts him up to the power o{
living for the unseen and the future.
Again, man cannot reach his end as isolated.
He is social, and needs public and social i.or8oci.i
worship, as well as instruction, and for ""'°'
these the Sabbath is indispensable. The Sabbath,
the pulpit, the Sabbath-school, and the social meet-
mgs appointed on the Sabbath and revolving about
't, are inseparable. Withdraw these, and it ia
doubtful whether the Church itself would survive.
The pulpit, in connection with the Sabbath, is the
only institution ever established on earth for the
general diifusion of religious instruction, and for
securing a form of social worship that should bring
all men together in equality and brotherhood before
God.
II. The Sabbath is needed not only for the indi-
vidual, but for the family.
The Sabbath and the family were instituted in
Paradise — these only, and they natu- j„ f^
-ally support each other. Where there is JJ°JSe°*"
Sabbath, the domestic relations are not *^"^
held sacred, and where the domestic relations are
not held sacred, there is no Sabbath. Let but
these two institutions, the family and the religious
Sabbath, be sustained in their integrity, and every
interest of the individual and of the family will be
tecured.
III. The Sabbath is essential to the state, if free
i?overiiment !s to be maintained.
TfiE SABBATH. 3l6
No people ever have been, or ever can be, raised
to a point of knowledge and virtue that would en-
able them to maintain permanently a free govern-
ment, that is, self-government, without that circle of
agencies of which the Sabbath is an essential part.
Without the Sabbath and the Bible there has
The Sabbath becu uo sucli diffusion of kuowledgo
goTernment. amoiig a whole people as would qualify
them for liberty. It was among those who most
highly esteemed the religious Sabbath, and were
persecuted for maintaining it, that the idea of edu-
cating the whole people first arose and was made
efficient. Tlie idea had its germ in that estimate of
man as man, which underlies the whole system of re-
ligion of which the Bible and the Sabbath are a part.
But knowledge is not sufficient ior freedom.
There must also be virtue, principle, and a right
social state. Outward forms and amenities must
spring from good will, and love as a law must be
applied in the relations of life as it never has been,
or can be without tlie Sabbath and its teachings.^
IV. We next observe, that man needs the Sab-
1 As the capacity of 'aan for free government is now on trial, and
especially in this country, this point is of special interest to the patriot
as well as to the Chri.-tian, and has attracted no little attention. Two
years since, at the request of the New York Sabbath Committee, a
paper was read by me before the National Sabbath Convention, held at
Saratoga, in which it was maintained: —
1. "That a religious observance of the Sabbath would secure the
permanence of free institutions."
2. " That without the Sab'oath religiously observed the pennanenci
«f free institutions cannot be secured; " and —
316 MOFAL SCIENCE.
balh as a physical being, and not he alone, but the
animals that are subjected to labor by him. It i«
worthy of notice that cattle are especially mentioned
in the fourth commandment.
If this be so, it is a fact of high import, not only as
showing the wide relations of the Sabbath, but the
subordiiifition of physical to moral ideas in the whole
structui-e of the present system.
The question is, Will man and animals do more
work, do it better, have better health, and p^ ^^^
live longer by laboring six days and rest- "o^,'^
ing the seventh, than by laboring seven ^»*''"'"'-
days in the week ? This question can be decided
only by facts, and by a wide and careful induction.
On this point extensive observations have been
made by cautious men, and facts like the following
are stated : " The experiment was tried on a hun-
dred and twenty horses. They were employed for
years seven days in a week. But they became un-
healthy, and finally died so fast that the owner
thought it too expensive, and put them on a six
days' arrangement. After this he was not obliged
to replenish them one fourth as often as before.
Instead of sinking continually, his horses came up
ttgain, and lived years longer than they could have
3. " That the civil as based on the religious Sabbath is an institntion
'0 which society has a natural right, precisely as it baa to property."
These propositions, it is believed, can be established, and if so th«
flabbath must be from God.
The paper referred to having been published by the Sabbath Con»
jiittec and extensively circulated, it is, perhaps, sufficient to refer to }
here.
THE SABBATH. 817
done on the other plan.-" Numerous cases of this
Kind are stated by Dr. Justin Edwards in his " Sab-
bath Manual."
A friend writes me that when the extensive stable
of the 3d Avenue Railroad, in New York, was com-
pleted, he was invited to inspect it ; and noticing that
the stables were arranged in groups of seven, he
found on inquiry " that the object was to have a
gang or team of horses together ; that each car re-
C[uired three pair of horses per day, each pair going
about twenty-four miles ; but that this was not
enough, for that a horse, no matter how well fed
and cared for, required rest, and that the only way
to give it to him and still keep the car running was
to have an odd horse which should come in and take
his turn at the work." This gave each horse a
seventh part of the time for rest. " It had been
tried, the superintendent said, with less, and with
more, but that it took just about seven horses to run
the car all the time." My friend adds : "This re-
sult had apparently been reached through pure
experience, but however reached, it had not been
founded upon any Scriptural reason ; and I have no
doubt but that tlie superintendent and directors were
entirely unconscious of the fact, that they were fcl-
'owing a divine precept."
In view of facts like the above, Dr. Edwaids felt
iutliorized to say of laboring animals that " when
employed but six days in a week, and allowed to
rest one, they are mere healthy than they can b«
818 MORAL SCIENCE.
when employed during the whole seven. They do
more work, and live longer."
And what is true of animals is true of man.
From extensive inquiries, from rejDorts made by
government commissioners, and from the opinion of
many scientific physicians, Dr. Edwards concludes
that "men who labor six days in a week, and rest
one, can do more woi-k in all kinds of business, in
all parts of the world, and do it in a better manner
than those who labor seven." Also, " that it is
now settled by facts that the observance of the
Sabbath is required by a natural law, and that were
man nothing more than an animal it would be for
his interest to observe the Sabbath." ^
The above refers to physical labor ; but as the
power of vigorous and persistent mental The mental
111 1 1 Pill- PO'™" "««<*
labor depends on tlie state ot tlie body, it >^ sabbath.
will follow that more such labor can be done, and
better done by those who keep the Sabbath, than by
those who do not. This is confirmed by facts,
beginning with the testimony of Sir Matthew Hale,
which seems to have first called attention to the
subject. He said : " If I h<id at any time bor-
rowed from this day any time for my secular em-
ployment I found that it did further me less than if
I had let it alone, and therefore, when some years'
Lixperience, upon a most attentive and vigilant
observation, had given me this instruction, I grew
peremptorily resolved never in this kind to make a
1 See Sab. Doc. No. 1, p. 41.
THE SABBATH. 319
breach upon the Lord's day, which I have now
strictly observed for more than thirty years." On
tills point more recent testimony is abundant, but
need not be added.
The views above presented rest on their own
basis, though they could never have been reached
witiiout revelation, and they justify us in calling
special attention to the saying of our Saviour, that
" the Sabbath was made for man." Viewing him
in whatever aspect, whether as a physical, an in-
tellectual, or a moral and religious being; whether
in his domestic, his social, or his civil relations, we
ses that the Sabbath is an integral and essential
Dart of the divine arrangement for his training and
well-being.
If tlie ])receding views are correct, and also the
Man's rigtit doctrino of rights already considered, it
to the civil .„ p „ , , • , ,
Sabbath. will toUow that mail lias a riglit to the
civil Sabbath, on the same ground that he has a
right to property, or to anytiiing else ; and that it
belongs to legislation to secure him in the enjoy-
ment of that right.
Rights are from the necessity of those things to
which man has a right, to secure the various ends
indicated by the active principles of his constitution,
and they vary in importance and sacredness accord-
ing to the importiince and sacredness of the end.
But the highest end of man is a rehgiously socia!
Dnd. His most sacred rio;ht must therefore be tc
tlie requisites ^nd cf )j; ditions for attaining that ejid
820 MOKAL SCIENCE.
and he will have a right to demand of society what-
ever legislation may be required for that. The
civil society which does not afford to every man the
most favorable conditions for the attainment of the
ends for wliicli God made him, needs modification,
and if it would render such attainment impossible,
it needs reconstruction.
In saying the above we disclaim any purpose to
make men moral or religious by legislation, or to
interfere with any liberty that ■would not trench
upon rights. Give us our rights, give us the still-
ness and quiet needed for the religious impression
of the Sabbath, for the instruction of families, and
for public worsliip, and we are content. To these,
as needed for the attainment of our highest ends, we
have a right.
" It may also be said that society, as being from
God, has a natural right to anything necessary to
secure its own cuds. If, therefore, it can be shown,
as it can be, and has been, that those ends cannot
be secured without the Sabbath, then society has,
on this ground also, a right to legislate in favor of
the civil Sabbath." ^
It only remains to speak of the manner in whicli
the Sabbath sliould be kept.
How the Sabbath must be kept must ^^^^^^ „,
be determined in part from its origin, but acSS
rhiefly from its end. bj its end.
A-s associated with great and joyful events in th(
' See Safibath and Frte Inititttiionf, p. J7'
THE SABBATH. 321
past, the Sabbath is of the nature of a festival, auo
ihould be a day of joy. As calling us to cease from
the toil imposed by the primeval curse, and to lay
aside its soiled garments, the Sabbath is a day of
release and of refreshment. As pointing to a resi
of lioly activity, in which the curse of tod shall bt
wholly lifted from us, the Sabbath is a day of de-
lightful anticipation, and of earnest preparation.
To one acquainted with its origin, and sympathizing
with its end, the whole tone and aspect of the day
must be bright, and its spirit free ; but, as has been
said, the manner of keeping the day, its duties and
employments, must be mainly determined by its
end.
Is the end of the Sabbath physical ? Then it is
to be spent in physical culture. Is it intellectual ?
Then the schools, and lyceums, and libraries shoula
be opened and thronged. Is the end assthetic ?
Then we are to listen to fine music, and view works
of art. Is it social ? Then we are to make calls,
and attend dinner parties. Is the end communion
with nature, or with the God of nature, distinc-
I'vely ? Then we are to walk in the fields and
woods, . and go on excursions. Is the end of the
Sabbath religious? Then it is to be kept holy,
riien are we to bring ourselves by every method of
his appointment, into immediate and conscious re-
ation to God as a holy God, and our end will be
<he prorattion of holiness in ourselves and others.
This is the end designated by God, the only worth v
21
322 MOEAL SCIENCE.
end, the only end, even, in connection with which
any other can be fiiUy secured.
But while the above is the end, it does not follow
that it is the only end ; for here, as else- Higher and
where, we find higher and lower ends, i"""™^-
and here, too, the law of limitation holds. Every
lower good may be promoted, and should be, but
only so far as it is a condition for one that is higher.
Holiness is the supreme end. So far as that will be
promoted by physical rest and " bodily exercise,"
by study, or art, or social intercourse, or commun-
ion with nature, these will be in place, hut no further.
" The Sabbath was made for man," and whatever
labor or service his good may require us to perform
on that day, we are to do — all works of necessity and
mercy. But we are to remember that it was made
for man especially as a religious being, and as his
great need is conformity to God, if the Sabbath be
not so kept as to promote that, it fails of its chief
end. It fails to be properly a Sabbath. But let it
be kept so as to promote this end, and every inferior
good will follow. There will be physical rest. There
will be that study of the Word of God and that
meditation which give light and depth to ^e intel-
lect. There will be sacred song, with so much of
art as higher ends may demand or permit. There
will be that family worship which hallows the home,
and that public and social worship which at once
humbles and exalts men., and brings them togethei
IS one f^imily before God. Man will have sympathy
THE SABBATH. 323
with nature, not merely as expressing the naturs
attributes of God, but as the basis and frame-work,
and in some of its aspects, the silent prophecy of a
higher moral and Christian system. All this he
will have under the law of limitation, and in addi-
tion, the limitless good that comes from conformity
to God, and direct communication with Him.
Such a law of the Sabbath is as precise as can be
given and not keep men children, or make them
machines. It avoids all precisionism, allowing each
one to decide for himself, whether or not he may
pluck the oars of corn as he passes through the field,
and rub them with his hands.
The requirement to keep the Sabbath holy places
HoUnesB i* '" ^ peculiar position, as making holi-
°righ*ob-° "^ss necessary to the right keeping of it.
lerrance. j^ jg self-evident that the religious Sabbath
must be kept religiously, and that only a relig-
ious man can do that. Here is the great difficulty
with the Sabbath ; but it is only the same as with
the service of God in any form. " Ye cannot," said
Joshua to the Israelites of old, " serve the Lord, for
He is a holy God." The very reason why they
should do it was the reason why they could not.
The faculties can act with alacrity only with ref-
erence to a congenial end. Let a man "hunger
tnd thirst after righteousness," and all opportunities
and means of attaining it will be welcomed and im-
proved. This alone can free the Sabbath from that
unpression of negation and vacuity and restrain!
324 MOKAL SCIENCE.
wliich tliey must feel who are brought up to keep
it strictly, but have no sympathy with its ends as
religious. Restrained by conscience or by custom
from employments and pleasures that are congenial,
and with no taste for the proper business and enjoy-
ments of the day, it will be " a weariness," and they
will say, as was said by men similarly situated three
thousand years ago, and has been ever since, " When
will the Sabbath be gone, that we may set forth
wheat ? " For this irksomeness of the Sabbath
there are but three possible remedies. One is that
God should change his law ; one that men should
obey it ; and the third, that they should disregard
and pervert it by spending the day in business or
pleasure.
The observance of the Sabbath has been supposed
to be peculiarly a guard against crime. .^^
It is so because it is more purely than any- ^''^"J"*
tiling else a test of regard to the authority "'™*-
lit God. As no time is intrinsically holy, and
nothing but the command of God can make it so,
tlie observance of a specified time on that ground is
.ihnost sure to be connected with the fear of God in
Dtlier things. Hence, of 1232 convicts in Auburn
State prison, only 26 had conscientiously kept the
Babbath ; and of 203 who were committed in one
year, only two had conscientiously done so. For
the same reason, desecration of the Sabbath is ofter
liie beginning of a course of vice and crime. As oi
old with the Israelites, the Sabbath seems to bn se/
THE SABBATH. 325
AS a sign between God and men, and when they dis-
regard that, all fea^- of Him departs. It is, there
fore, ominous of every form of evil when a young
person begins to disregard the Sabbath. Tell me
how the Sabbath is spent, and I will give you a
moral history of the rest of the week.
It has also been supposed that something of dis-
ProTidence Crimination, enough to show which side
»nd the /^ , . 1 .
Sabbath. God IS on, may be discerned in specia.'
evils which follow Sabbath desecration. It is said
by careful observers, and confirmed by striking
facts, that those who seek to obtain their own ends,
whether of business or pleasure, by appropriating
God's time for them, often find themselves strangely
thwarted, sometimes by seeming accidents and sud-
den events, and sometimes in the long lines of God's
providence. This may well be, for if the law of
the Sabbath be the law of God, we may be sure
that there is no sucli inflexibility of natural forces
that they cannot be brought to conspire with it, and
that in some way it will ultimately vindicate itself.
" Who hath hardened himself against Him, and
prospered ? "
The religious Sabbath has been dwelt upon thus
at length, from the conviction that it is
vital to individual piety, to the family, and
to our free institutions ; and also that it can be sus-
tained only by a clear apprehension of its grounds,
hnd by vigilance and struggle. To a pervertea
Sabbath, a day of amusement, spectacles, idleness,
326 MORAL SCIliNCE.
Eud consequent vice and degradation; despotism, in-
fidelity, and formalism have no objection. Such a
day is their surest means of undermining everything
opposed to tlieni. It is the temple of God become
a den of thieves. It is a holy Sabbath that is the
pohit of their common attack, and this it is that the
friends of an enlightened Christianity, and of free
institutions, are called upon to sustain.
The fourth and the fifth commandments stand
togetlier in the centre of the Decalogue ; and as it
is throuiih these that there is a connection between
the two tables of the divine Luw, so it is through
the Sabbath that a divine influence passes into the
family, and through that into society. This is the
ilivinc order — the Sabbath and the family mutu-
ally supporting each other ; and God, through
them, working out a perfect society. It remains
to the Christian and the patriot to accept this order,
md work together with Him.
APPENDIX.
HOPKINS'S •■ LAW OF LOVE AND LOVE AS A LAW.'
BY TOE REV. JAMBS MoCOSH, LL. D., D. D.
In the summer of 1866 I found myself wanJeriiig
among the limbs of the Green Mounlains, and it oc-
curred to me Ihat I ought to find my way to Williams-
town and its college. One end I had in view was tu
see more of the grand scenery — the lovely forests and
towering mountains, by which the region is character-
ized. I was certainly not disappointed in the situation
of the town. Il is placed on «, knoll in the lieart of a
capacious hollow, surrounded with imposing mountains.
Jt struck me as a spot at which the Last Judgment
miglit be lield, with the imiverse assembled on tlie
slopes of the encircling hills. But I had anothor object
on whicli 1 had set my heart still more earnestly, and
tills was to make the acquaintance of the Presidrnt of
llio college, wliose works I had read in my own country,
and whose chaiacter I had been led to revere by the
accounts given me by those who know him intimately.
And if I was not disappointed with the scenery, I was
still less so with Dr. Hopkins, whom I found a man
stalwart and elevated like the mountains among which
he Uvea and muses, and yet adorned withal with graces
as lovely as the foliage of the spruce hemlock which
there clothes the scenery. Since that time I ever place
him before me, in imagination, seated under a tree in
the heart of the mountains, pondering some deep theme,
seeking light for himself, and wishing to impart it to
otheri.
328 APPENDIX.
Ill the book befoie us he has given us the result of
his thoughts on no lower a subject than Law and Love
and the relation between them. And surely these twc
mnst be intimately connected, and this whether we are
Me to express it in categorical form or not. There
ciiu be no moral excellence without love ; but just as
little can there be without a rule, without obligation.
The two seem to be inseparably joined in the nature of
things, as they certainly are in the revelation which
God has given of duty iu the "Word, — " For tliis is tlie
sum of tlie Ten CommMndments, to love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy
strength, iind with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as
thyself."
Jonathan P^d>vards used to ponder this profound sub-
lect. Francis Hutcheson, the founder of the Scottish
School of Philosophy, liad labored to prove that virtue
consists in benevolence. Edwards saw the defect of this
theory, as omitting love to God and justice, which are
virtues quite as much as benevolence. So amending the
theory of Mntcheson, Edwards makes the bold attempt
to resolve all virtue into love, in love to being as being,
nnd distributed to beings as they have cto'ws upon us.
But, with all his acuteuess, he failed to see that in this
resolution he had unwittingly introduced another idea
besides love — that of claim or ohligation — the claim
of being as being, the separate claims of different beings,
say of God, of father and mother, of husband and wife,
of brothers and sisters, of rulers and subjects, of friends
and foes. That being lias claims upon us — that dif-
ferent beings, such as God and our neighbors, havu
separate claims upon us, — this turns out to be an ulti
mate truth, whicli cannot be resolved into anything
nforior to itself. Why ought I to love my fellow-men '
Why ought I to love God, and to love him more than
APPENDIX. 329
t love even my fellow-men ? To «j, whatever there
may be to highoi- intelligences, tliere can be no answer
but one, and that is, that I onght to do so. And if
nny one puts the other qnestion, How do I come to
know this ? there is but one answer, and this is, that
it is self-evident. And thi^ leads me to remark that
there is a great defect in the prevailing doctrine of our
lay among metaphysicians — a doctrine introduced by
Kant into Germany and by Sir W. Hamilton among
English-speaking nations — as to what are the proper
tests of first truths : these are represented as necessity
and universality. The primary mark of first truths was
seized by Locke with his usual sagacity : it is self-evi-
dence We regard God as having a claim upon our
love, not because we are neces-iiated to love him, or
because all men love him, but because it is right, and
men see it to be so at once ; and it is because they
see it to be so that the necessity and universality arise.
Edwards lias succeeded in showing that love is an essen-
tial element in virtue ; but he has not succeeded iu
proving that to us there is no other element. In par-
ticular, tliere is a binding obligation to love God and
man, and not only so, but to discountenance and puni.sh
sin and to countenance and encoui'age moral excellence,
And now we find a thinker of tiiis centurv, and liv-
ing in much the same parts, trying to solve the same
[)roblem of the relation of law to love, and love to law,
and thinking he has solved it. The following is his
Doble language : —
" Law and love ! These are the two mightiest forces
iu the universe, and thus do we marry them. Th?
place of the nuptials is in the innermost sanctuary ot
the soul. As in ail right marriage, there is both con-
trariety and deep harmony. Law is stern, majestic, and
the fountain of all order. Love is mild, winning, the
S30 APPENDIX.
fountain of all rational spoiitautity — that is, of tlie
Bpoutaneity ihat follows ralional choice. Love without
law is capi-icious, weak, mischievous : opposed to law il
is wioliecl. Law without love is unlovely. The hijrhest
harmony of tlie universe is in the love of a rational
being tliat is coincidenl uiih the law of tliat beiny
rationally affirmed ; and the deepest possible jai' and
discord is from (he love, persistcsit and utter, of such a
being in opposition to his law. It is becau.se there is in
the Divine Being this harmony of law with love that
He is perfect."
It is a curious circumstsuice that Dr. Hopkins does
not examine, or even refer to the attempt made by Ed-
wards. Indeed it is one of the pccidiarities of our
author — under one aspect an excellence, under another
a defect — that, like Edwards, he is largely a '• self-con-
tain'jd" thinker. The reading of the one, a<5 of the
other, seems confined, and confined to rather common-.
place works. This circumstance imparts a freshness and
an independence to their thinking, but at times it keeps
them from seeing certain aspects of their theme which
others have noticed and brought out to view. ■•
Dr. Hopkins, as every one who knows his spirit
would expect, has a great aversion to ancient Epicure-
anism and modern Utilitarianism. He speaks with
great contempt of " the sty of Epicurus," " the dirt phi-
losophy " and " the bread and butter philosophy." On
the other hand, he is not prepared to give his adiierence
to the counter doctrine of intuitive morals. Avoiding,
as he reckons, the errors of both extremes, he is striving
to construct a theory of his own, and he defends it with
able arguments and acute distinctions. I am not sure
whether he has been successful any more than Edwards
was in n like attempt. While evidently and strongly
aiming at something higher, I fear that, without m".aning
APPENDIX. S'di
it, he has landud himself logically in Eudaimonism, or in
making enjoyment the supreme end of man and of
virtue.
He admits fully that there is in the mind of man
Viriginal and fundamental ideas: "I am one of those
who believe thfit there iire simple aud ultimate ideas."
He gives existence as an example : " That of existence,
or biiug, is one. All men liave, and must have, an
idea of something, of themselves as exipling." But
then he will not idlow that an idea, which seems to
me to be as much entitled to be regarded as simple
and original as any other we could name, is of that
description. I refer to our idea of Right. He insists
that there is, that there must be, an ultimate end to
which everytiiing else is subordinate. But he denies
that doing right, as right, can be that end. What, then,
is the ultimate end, according to Dr. Hopkins ? It
comes, in the end, to be a " form of enjoyment or satis-
faction.'' He says it is " the good." But what is the
good ? The following is his answer : " An objective
good is anything so correlated lo a conscious being as to
produce subjective good. Subjective good is some form
of enjoyment or satisfaction in tlie consciousness." He
tells us that " strictly there is no good that is not sub-
jective." This is explicit enough. Commonly he speaks
of the ultimate end in virtuous conduct as being " the
good " or " well being." But then the phrases " good "
and "well being" are ambiguous; they may mean
pleasure, or they may meau moral good and moral
well being. I am not sure whether Dr. Hopkins is
not kept at times, by the amphiboly of these phrases,
from seeing the full consequences of his theory. Let
him, or let his readers, substitute " some form of enjoy-
ment or satisfaction in the consciousness " for " good "
and " well being," and wliat the precise doctrine is, and
S32 Al'PKNDIX.
must be, will at once become patent. He tells us
again and again : " It is an affirmation, through the
moral reason, of obligation to choose the supreme end
for which God made us — that is, to choose the good
of all beings capable of good, our own included, anil put
forth all those volitions which may be required to attain
or secui'e that good." This sounds well, and is in entire
ftccordance with the impression which Dr. Hopkins means
to leave. But substitute for " good " " some form of
enjoyment or satisfaction in the consciou-sness," and it
Domes to this, logically — that the supreme end of man
is to choose the enjoyment of all, including, so far as I
see, the enjoyment of the Supreme Being.
He is careful to explain, in thus speaking of good as
" some form of enjoyment or satisftiction," that he does
not mean our own good, but " that of all conscious
beings." But whethiT lie means it or no, whether he
wishes it or no, whether he sees it or no, this is in the
end the utilitarian or " greatest happiness princiiile."
'I'Ms is the logical consequence, and if not drawn by
himself it will be drawn by others ; and the history of
philosophy and theology shows that what follows log-
ically will, in fact, follow chronologically, when the sys-
tem has had time to work and show its effects.
And, after all, Dr. Hopkins cannot get rid of an ulti-
nate principle of right. For why am I or any other
man required to look after the good? — meaning the en-
joyment of all conscious beings — is the question that
ever comes up. Why am I bound to look after any
one's enjoyment but my own ? The answer to this
question by such a man as Dr. Hopkins must be, Bocaiist
't is right, which right is discovered by the moral rensou,
and is an ultimate idea and an ultimate end. Right
thus comes, like love, to be an end in itself, inferior to
no other, subordinated to no other.
APl'ENDIX. Jj;j.J
He cannot avoid this conclusion by the distinctions
which he draws. He tells us '' that ho jness is not a
meiins of happiness but the cause," and "that a cause
we always conceii^e of as higlier than its effects," and
gives, as an illustration, " God as a cause is higher than
the universe." Tj ue, God as a cause is higher than
Huy creatui-e effect, or, we may add. any creature cause.
But as to creature cau-es atnl effects, I am not sure
that the cause is always higher ih m its effects. These
late discussions as to the nature of causation have
shown that all physical causes are composed of more
than one agent, and tiiat all effects are capable of be-
coming causes which may or may not be greater than
the effects. I am not sure that the causes which led to
the abolition of slavery in the United States were higlier
than the effect — the abolition of slavery. But grant-
ing his doctrine to be true, that holiness is* greater than
happiness because it is the cause of happiness (it is
Bometitnes, also, in our world the cause of suffering),
then it surely follows that holiness, which is the higher,
and not happiness, ought to be the ultlnnate end.
The following is evidently the difficulty which Dr.
Hopkins feels in making right the I'nd of moral action
" It is plain that the quality of an action can never be
Me ground of an obligation to do thnt action." " Think
of a man's doing good to another, not from good will,
but for the sake of the rightiiess of his own act. Think
of his loving God for the same reason. Certainly, if
we regard right as the quality of an action, no man can
be under an obligation to do an act morally right for
which there is not a reason besides its being right,
and on the ground of which it is right." This is
oointedly put. Bu( it is possible to meet it. The
difficulty arises from a confusion o^ idea into which we
»re apt to fall when we think or speak of ultimate
y34 APPENDIX,
deas or euds. "We telk of them as having a reason,
Dut then we are apt to forget that this reason is not out
of themselves but in themselves. It lies in the objects
contemplated, and is seen to be so by the bare coutem-
plaiion of the objects, that is by self-evidence, which is
the primary mark of iniuitive truth. All that passes
under the name of love is not virtuous. Certainly our
love is not always virtuous when we contemplate some
form of enjoyment or satisfaction to ourselves or others.
But when we love God and our fellow-men in a truly
virtuous manner, wh feel thitt love, that this love, is due
to them. In this, as in all cases of moral excellence,
the ought, the due, the obligation, comes in along with
love, and is an ultimate end inferior to no other.
Dr. Hopkins .=ees that iitilit irianism has a truth in it.
The truth lies in this, that wu are bound by ultimate
moral principle to promote the happiness of mankind.
Or, to give a deeper and jiister account, we are bound
not only to do good to all conscious beings, we are
bound to love them. Viewed under this aspect, the
principle of virtue is not beneficence, but love. Had
Dr. Hopkins, with his clinching power and high moral
aims, brought out these two ti'ulhs more fully than intui-
tive moralists have done, he would have done essential
service to ethical science, which has sometimes given
morality a repulsive aspect, by exhibiting law as sepa-
rated from love. But this is not the way in which Dr.
Hopkins " marries " the parties. He thinks he has dona
great service to ethics by showing how sensibility, pleas-
are, enjoyment, or satisfaction is a condition of moral
good. " A sensibility is the condition precedent of all
moral ideas." I am not sure that he is absolutely right
here. We may put the case that God creates an angelic
being with high intellectual endowments, but without
sensibility. Is not that angel bound to be gratefil tc
APPENDIX. SiJo
God, ft-om the very relation in which he stands to nia
Creator, and apart altotjether from sensibility on his
part or the part of God ? In following out this princi-
ple, I hold that man is bound to love God, apart iilto-
gether from this love prodiudiig any enjoyment on God's
part or on man's part. Dr. Hopkins is obliged, in
eilecting his reconciliation, lo give a very inadequate
view of law. " The object of law is the control of force
by direction and regulation with reference to an end."
Surely, the deepest idea of a moral law is here lost
sight of, which is obligation to cherish the affection or
do the deed as being right.
But while I take objection to the very peculiar theory
advocated as to the ground of morality, I am bound to
speak in highest terms of the ability and high moral
purpose displayed throughout the volume. Except in
regard to the special theory in the first part, I have
nothing to say against the work, and much to say in its
favor. Of the second, or practical part, I have to speak
only in highest commendation. Take tlie following as
a specimen, selected at random, of the clenr discrimina-
tion and admirable judgment everywhere displayed.
" Property may be permanently and rightfully alien-
ated by gift, by exchange, and by sale. It is also per-
manently alienated by gambling ; this has different forms
In some cases, as in dice and in lotteries, it is simply an
appeal to chance. In others, as in cards, there is a
mixture of chance and skill. In others, as in betting,
of chance and judgment. In all cases, the object ia
gain without an equivalent, and while there is such gain
on one side, there is, on the other, loss without compen-
sation. In legitimate trade both parties are benefited ;
in gambling, but one. Legitimate trade requires and
promotes habits of industry and skilL ; gambling gener-
ates indolence and vice, and stimulates a most infatuating
and often uncontrollable passion. It is wholly selfish.
336 APPENDIX.
and wholly injurious in its effecis upon the community.
That a practice thus inherently vicious, should be re-
sorted to for charitable purjtoses, does rot change iti
character, but only tends to confound moral instructiong.
But are all appeals to chance in the distribution of prop-
erty gambling? Not necessarily, if we define it by its
motives and results. A picture is given to a fair. No
individual will give for it its value ; lliat value is con-
tributed by a number and the picture disponed of by lot ;
this differs from an ordinary lottery : 1st, Because
there are no expenses, and all that is given goes for an
object which the parties are gathered lo promote. 2d,
The prize is given, so that nothing is taken for the prizes
from the amount paid in, but the whole goes for the
proposed object. 3d, This may be done from a sim-
ple desire that the fair should realize the worth of its
property, and so, benevolently. And all appeals to
chance under these conditions are not lilsely to be so
frequent or general as to endanger the habits of ilie
community. All this may, and should, in fairness, be
said. It should also be said, 1st, that no form of
charity should be tolerated for a moment that in tlie
actual state of a community will foster a spirit of gam-
bling. It should be said, 2d, that any attempt to
promote a benevolent object by an appeal to selfish mo-
tives is wrong. Benevolent giving is a means of Chris-
tian culture, but selfish giving in the form of benevo-
lence is a deception and a snare. If the cause of
benevolence cannot be supported benevolently, it had
better not be supported at all."
I commend all intelligent readers to buy this book
»nd read it with care, and they will find themselves
travelling in the company of a man of high and inde-
pendent soul, who expresses his thoughts in brief and
weighty sentences, and imparts much moral ins>ru'-tion
of a lofty order.
APPENDIX, 337
ANSWER TO REV. DR. McCOSlI.
BT KEV. MAKK HOPKINS, D. D., LL. D.
In re-viewing "The Law of Love," in the "Observer'-
i)f April 15th, Dr. McCosh speaks of his visit to Wil-
liamstown and to myself. That visit is among my
most pleasing recollections. It was during the summer
vacation ; the weather was fine, and we were quite iit
leisure to stroll about the grounds and ride over the
hills.
Riding thus, we reached, I remember, a point which
he said reminded him of Scotland. There we alighted.
At once he bounded into the field like a young man,
passed up the hillside, and, casting himself at full length
under a shade, gave himself up for a time to the asso-
ciations and inspiration of the scene. I seem to see
him now, a man of world-wide reputation, lying thus
solitary among these hills. They were draped in a
dreamy haze suggestive of poetic inspirations, and from
his quiet but evidently intense enjoyment, he might
well, if he had not been a great metaphysician, have
been taken for a great poet. And indeed, though he
nad revealed himself chiefly on the metaphysical side,
it was evident tliat he shared largely in that happy
temperament of which Shakespeare and Tennyson are
the best examples, in which metaphysics and poetry
seem to be fused into one and become identical.
As befitted the season, our conversation was in the
light and aroma of those great truths in whicli we were
Bgreed, without any attempt to go down to their roots.
As, however, I was meditating my book, I went so far
■ts to ascertain from him more fully what I knew be-
fore from his writings, that he held to an ultimate right,
and would not agree with me. My ground on that
28
lias APPENDIX.
point was therefore not hastily taken, and while I ac-
knowledge fully the want of reading refei'red to by Dr.
McCosh, and regret it, I may be permitted to sny that
on thi8 subject he has presented no point that T had
not seen, and has raised no objection that I had not
considered.
That the foundation of obligation should be goner-
idly understood is most desirable, and as the subject so
appeals to the common consciousness that every intel-
ligent man can understand it, I cannot but think that
Dr. McCosh has done a public service in bringing it
thus prominently before the wide circle reached by the
" Observer." Thanking him, therefore, for this, as well
as for his courtesy and kind words to myself, I will en-
dea^'or to do something to aid the object he thus evi-
dently had in view.
In doing this, I propose, since the book reviewed
has probably not been seen by one iu fifty of the read-
ers of the " Observer," 1st, to make a condensed statement
of the system it contains; 2d, to inquire whether that
system is one of utilitarianism or eudnimonism, which
is the thing objected against it ; and 3d, to inquire
whether Di*. McCosh can hold his system in consistency
with the Scriptures, or with himself.
" Morality regards man as active." It asks, " What
ught to be done ? " " Why ought it to be done ? "
How ought it to be done?" How shall we answer
these questions ? The method adopted in my books
is so simple and obvious that nobody but a philosopher
could ever have missed it. It assumes that all morn!
axstion is rational action, and that all rational action
must not only have an end, but must find its occasioii
and reason in that end.
This being assumed, the next step is, and must be
to inquire what the end of man is. This is the ud
APPENDIX. 339
flerlying question of all philosophy of actiou for man.
This we may know, or suppose we do, because wo are
told it ; or we may know if by investigating the struc-
ture of man in connection with his position, just as we
do that of a locomotive standing on a railway track.
In the first case, we shoidd i<novv the end by faith ;
in the second, by philosophy. The faith may be ra-
tional, wholly so. That will dej)'. nd on the ground of
our confidence in him who tells us. But it will not
be philosophical. Both methods are legitimnte. but;
must ultimately coincide. It wmdd not do for any-
thing claiming to be a revelation to say that the chief
end of a locomotive was to stand still and scream
through the steam whistle, and no teaching could stand
that should go clearly against the end as revciilcd in
the structure.
Of the above methods, the Westminster divines,
whose earnest minds were instinctively led to the ques-
tion of an end, adopted the liist. But, adopting a
right method, they regarded man solely as under a
remedial system, of which philosophy can know noth-
ing, except, indeed, as it inay become a to.^t of anything
claiming to bo such a system. The end, however, as
stated by them, I adopt fully, while Dr. McCosh, as I
understand him, adopts it only in part. According to
him, " man is bound to love God apart altogether from
tills love producing any enjoyment on God's part, or
on man's part." Tliis must mean that enjoyment ought
to be no part of the end in any moral action. That is
the principle of it. Would Dr. McCosh sny go?
Would he say that virtuous love to God, which must
consist in good-will, or the willing of good, would be
possible if God were as incapable of enjoyment as a
rock? To me, the conception even of such love is
impossible, and yet the statement of Dr. McCosh would
340 APPENDIX.
seem to require it, But, however this may be, what
we need is no mere Btatcmeiit based on faith, but a
philosophy of action, and for me this is possible only
from a knowledge of the end of man as revealed in his
structure.
Let us then take man as wc would a locomotive,
and see if we can, as we could in that, find his end
from his structure. This is no question of words and
subtle distinctions that two hair-splitting philosophers
may fall to loggeiheads about. It is a great ]iroblem
which I have hoped by my books, and hope by this
paper, to set many at working out. This we are to do
independently of revelation. I would do it cautiously
and reverently, but I would do it. We are, indeed,
bound to do it for ourselves, and not to leave it to be
done by infidels, and then weakly quarrel with the
results.
In doing this we sliall find aid in observing all lower
forces that work towards ends. These we find ar-
ranged in a beautiful gradation as condiliouiug and con-
ditioned, and so higher and lower; thus giving, as I
have shown, a law of limitation for tlie regulation of
all forces and faculties except the highest. In observ-
ing these forces the point to be noticed is, that in pass-
ing upward nature reaches points where she does not
proceed by gradations that pass into each other, but
by leaps. This she does when she passts from inor-
ganic to organic being ; when she passes from vegetable
to animal life; and again, when she passes from animal
to rational and spiritual life. In each case we get some-
thing diflferent, not in degree merely, but in kind ; an!
in steppiug across these gulfs we are to notice that
while we carry with us everything on the side we leave,
it yet falls into subordination to the new force, which
will work by its own laws, and cannot be safely rea-
APPENDIX. .'541
M>ned about from the old analogies. A tree is the
product of a force that acts in opposition to gravitation
and to all the cohesions and chemical aifiiiities of inor-
ganic matter, and he would be seeking the living among
the dead who should carry the laws of iiiorgauie being
over to account for the phenomena of vegetable life.
In each case, in passing ovei', we need a test of tlie
presence of the new power. The test of the presence
of vegetable life is organization ; of animal life it is
sensation, and of rational life it is the power to choose
its own end with an alternative in kind. Reaching tliis
point we pass out of the domain of mechanical Ibices
acting from without, and of instinctive and impulsive
forces acting from within, into a region higher ami en-
tirely new, of comprehension and of freedom. " Up to
man," as I have said elsewhere, "everything is driven
to its end by a force working from without and from
behind, but for him the pillar of cloud and of fire puts
itself in front, and he follows or not as he chooses."
As I view it, it is only after passing this gulf that
we find moral phenomena. But at this point there ia
a difference about the very nature of those phenomena ;
and if we could always tell which side of the gulf men
are on, if they would not sometimes be on one side,
and sometimes on the other, and sometimes astride it,
often not seeming to know where they are, it would
prevent immense confusion. " Holiness," says Dr.
Thomwell, " is a nature." Then, it may be created,
but cannot be commanded. Where he was when ha
said this we cannot doubt. The same I suppose would
be said, — it ought to be, — by the writer of a recent
article on morals in the " Princeton Keview." By this
jlass of thinkers God is conceived of as an essence in
which love and wrath inhere as qualities, and rr.ani-
fest themselves independently and necessarilv; whereas
342 ArpF.\T)Tx.
others conceive of him .is a person, rational and free,
and as a consuming fire only becanse he is love. Of
these, Dr. McCosh is (imong the latter. He has passer"
this gulf. For him " nioi-al good '" (goodness ?) " is a
quality of certain actions procecdiug from the will."
Saying ihns, he mu-it, with us, develop moral phenom-
ena from tlie point of ftvedom as manifested in choice
What, then, are moral plienoniena? They are those
revealed from a moral nature, and are immediately
known as moral, as intellectual phenomena are revealed
from an intellectual nature, and are immediately known
as intellectual. A man and a brute are moved equally
by appetite to eat ; but the man can, and the brute can-
not be induced to eat that which is distasteful out of
regard to a higher good. Here is an alternative in
kind, possible for man, impossible for the brute; and
when this is presented the moral reason comes at once
into action, and aliirms obligation to choose the higher
good, just as natural reason atfirnis personal identity
when the occasion arises for tluit. This will be re-
peated, as alternatives of higher and lower good are
presented, till we reach the supicnie good, and then we
shall have moral law, and a liasis for conscience both
as an impulse and as a law. Whoever will ask him-
self what he means by an enlightened conscience will
find the meaning and necessity of a supreme end and
good.
In a being willing to come to the light ihe alfirina-
lion of obligation will be mnde impartially, whether the
good be our own or that ot another. It wUl be made
in view of good as such, and vahiable in itself, whether
it be our own, or that of our fellow creatures, or of God.
What tlien have we here '. We have, 1st, good.
This is wholly from the sensihiliiy, and is the conditioi!
for any affirmation of obligation, and of any moral idea
A1-I>ENDL\. 34y
We have, 2d, tlio afllriiiation of obligation to choose
the good. In tliis we find moral law. Here we find
the "claim" spoken of by T)r. IMcCosh, what lio c-ali=i
the "ought" tlie "due," the "obligation" wliich It
might be, inferred from his review that I ignore. Ii is
indeed strange that in reviewing a book, ouu thin! ul
whicli is occupied in sliowing ilie precise origin aiiil
nature of obligation, it should lie quietly taken I.t
granted that it is ignored. I do nut ignore it, but
affirm it as strongly as he does; hut I do nut far, as
he does, that this affirmation of obligation to chouse mu
end "is itself an nltiinaie eml inferior to no oilier.'
" The ought, the due, the obligation," he says, " comes iu
along with the love, and is an ultimate end iiif'eiior tu
no other." This I do not say, because oliligntion nuist
be obligation to choose some ultimate end, and how a
man can choose as an ultim:ite end his obligation to
choose some other ultimate end, I do not well under-
stand. I5ut be this as it may, tliis affirmation of obliga-
tion is no part of viitue. It is not only not im ulti-
mate end, but it cannot be an end of any kiinl. It is
necessitated. If it wore not, we should not have a
moral nature. Without it man would be incapable
of either virtue nr vice, but it is no part of cither.
Through it we sim[ily have law, that by which a man
" is a law unto him-^elf," but the question of obedience
and disobedience, in which virtue and vice consist, lo-
maina.
Having now the idea of good from the sensibility
and of obligation from the moral reason, we come tc-
Vbe action of the will, the man, the voluntary agent,
i.he CAUSE, higher than any effect he can produce. It
■a in his power as a cause, as well as in his nature as
rational and moral, that man is in the image of God
♦nd onl^ as he is a cause js }»e either responsible gi
S-t-l APPENDIX.
respeclablo. As a cause it is obvious that man nia^'
assume oni' of three positinn-* in regard to good. He
mny choose it unselfislily and impartially for himself
Htid all who are capable of it — that is, he may love
God with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself; or
he may choose his own good selfishly, regardless of
that of otliers; or he may be malignant, and wish to
destroy good, and to cause positive misery.
Taking the first of the above positions, the man ac-
cepts the Law of Love as the law of his being. It is
law because obligation is affirmed. It is the Law of
Love because love is the thing, and the only thing com
manded. " And thus do we marry them," — '• Law and
Love, the two mightiest forces in the universe.'' The
command comes with immediate and "self-evidence" of
its authority, nn the apprehension of good as valuable
in itself to God, to our fellow-creatures, and to our-
selves. Choosing thus, the man has dune no outward
act, and yet he has virtually done all good acts. Noth-
ing remains but to cai-ry out this choice in executive
volitions, according to the circumstances and relations
of life. In making this choice, and thus carrying it
out, the man will fulfill obligation, will be virtuous ;
and in so doing there will be developed a sensibility
of tlie moial nature giving a satisfaction higher than
any other. This form of voluntary action would be
moral goodness, and the enjoyment from it would be
moral good. This is holy happiness, or happiness from
holiness, or blessedness. It can come only from holiness,
finil is as much higher than animal enjoyment as an au-
gel is higher than an animal. Becoming conscious of
this, the man is fully in possession of himself, with all his
possible forms of activity and their results. He knows
himself now through and through, as he might know
^ locomotive. And now, retaining his generic choice
API'KNDIX. g.]/^
ii cause good, his action must taiie ouu of two forms,
He must either seek to cause good direcily, or to lead
others to cause it. He mu't seek to caiiso a change
either in the condition or the character of men. In
thus laboring to cause well being directly, and to cause
it indirectly by laboring for holiness, man finds his liim
end. Thus does he glorify God ; tims does lie do tin
greatest possible good to his fellow-creatures; thu.
does he find his own highest enjoj'ment; thus does It
reveal the highest beauty, and so become an object of
complacency. What more can we ask for man as ac-
tive? Let him become thoroughly subject to the Law
of Love, and we ask nothing more.
But what of right, and righteousness, and justice ?
Nothing has been said of these. We have now reached
the point at which moral philosophies generally begin.
They generally begin by inquiiing about right, and
obligation as from that. It will be seen from the fore-
going statements what I would say of them. Let a
man adopt the Law of Love, and then seek to apply love
as a law in practical life, and he will need to ask con-
stantly what is right ; he will always be under obliga-
tion to do it; and the doing of it will be righteousness.
Then also will the idea and sense of justice be revealed;
but there is no more an eternal right, or an eternal
justice, independent of good and of iove as possible
through that, than there is an eternal tree independent
of existence. Existence is the conditioning idea with
out which that of a tree could not be, and good and
love are conditioning ideas without which those of light
iind justice could not be. A justice that should have
no reference to the good of any being would not be
justice, but a blind instinct. But, having its basis and
conditioning idea in love, it justifies itself to itself even
in becoming " indignation and wrath." These must b«
S46 APPiixnix.
developed from love, which thus becomes holiness, when
selfishness and malignity would defeat its ends. Some-
thing analogous to this is seen even in instinctive love.
The fury of the eagle is never so great as when it re-
veals itself as au expression of love for its yount;. And
nothing can be so dreadful as the wrath of Infinite
Goodness, not as a blind lury, but because it is Jnfinila
Goodness. That there arc what may be called ra-
tional instincts and impulses connected with our mo'a!
nature, and which some have mistaken for conscience
and so have become fanatics, I believe ; but I also be-
lieve that there can be no law of the conscience except
in the presence of the supreme good.
Of this system it may be said, 1st, that it is in
harmony with the Scriptures. It was a great satir^fac
tion to find that the law of the Constitution was the
law of the Bible. Let that be shown and we shnll
have an argument for the divine origin of the Bible
that cannot be gainsaid. 2d, By making the idew of
good the condition of obligation, or goodness, or virtue,
the system shows just how that "absolute assurHuce "
Mmes, " that happiness must be the accompaniment or
ind of holiness," which the " Princeton Review " says is
•' graven on man's soul." How this comes ihe advo-
cates of an ultimate right have never attempted to
show. Let them attempt it, and tliey will find the
need of changing their system. 3d, It connects man
with all that is below liim, and all that is subordinate
in him with that which is higher, thus bringing him
nto unity with his surroundings and with himself, and
making the same law of limitation that we find in na-
ture a law to him. 4th, It gives a basis out of which
Ihe practical part grows, so that it is not mere precept
Such is the system. We now inquire, as was pro
posed, is not this utilitarianism ? Of this there seems
APPENDIX. 347
lo be a superstitious horror iu some quiirters, and th"
idea is hardly betier defined than Ihat of a ghost Dr
McCosh says there is a truth in it, but what th^i
truth is, as he states it, if it be not precisely my doc-
trine, I am unable to make out. It is the only p;iit
of his review that puzzled uie. J have supposed that
utility involved a tundeucy to some good, and tliiit the,
choosing of a tiling because of its tendency Li a jrood,
or as a means of good, was a different thing fmni the
choice of a good that is gooil in itself and that lias
Qothing to do with tendency. I must think these are
wholly different. But as some do not see this, I will
simply say, leaving out definitions, tliat as objectionable,
nothing can be utilitarianism that does net either op-
pose self to love, or happiness to duty. To this .all will
agree.
But so far from opposing self to love, the system is
one of disinterested and impartial love — the •' love of
God with all the heart and of our neighlwr as our-
lelves." It has nothing to do with means or utilities,
but chooses an end for its own sake, that is, not good
in the abstract, but the good of beings capable of good ;
and this choice is love. It fixes on good as that, and
hat alone, which renders virtuous love possible. We
have, then, no possible taint of utilitarianism here.
Nor, again, does this system oppose liappiiiess to
duty. It affirms, with Dr. IMcCosh, (he " self-evidence "
of obligation, and that duty is to be done at all hazards.
Speaking of conscience in its relation to moral law, 1
say "From Ihat is its power to originate the word
night, and whetie\er the mandate imd impulse involved
n that word are truly derived from the law ihey are
to be obeyed at all hazards. It would he absurd tc
say that anything could excuse a mai. from doing what
ne ouglit to do. Moral law must he supreme." Nothing
d-18 APPENDIX.
Burely, can be stronger than this. There is no taint ot
utilitarianism here.
But though the book so proclaims love and law sep-
arately as to preclude utilitarianism, is it not inconsis-
tent with itself, and does it not, in marrying the two,
give an opportunity for this subtle and terrible enemy
to slip in ? Again, No. If utilitarianism cannot bt;
compatible with either separately, much less can it be
with the two united. As I understood the contract, it
was that law was so to remain law and 1 )ve love, as tn
exclude utilitarianism. The two must be united in
some way. They belong to each other by a preor-
dained affinity, and the deepest laws of thought, and
the necessities of moral government; and if they can-
not be united by making good fi'om a sensibilily the
condition of obligation, then how ? This does, indeed,
and that is one advantage of it, retain the truth which
Dr. McCosh admits is in utilitarianism — just that, and
nothing more. The question here is not at all about uu-
compromisiug obedience or duty, when that is made
known, but whether tlie very idea of duty is possible
except through that of a good from the sensibility, and
so of a possible love. The truth is, that the advocates
of an ultimate right are so afraid of soiling virtue by
some contact with happiness as to exclude the possibil-
ity of it altogether. This Dr. MeCosh seems to me to
do when he speaks of obligation to love a being with-
out regard to his happiness. If tliere may be the love
of complacency without regard to happiness, there can
DO more be virtuous love than there can be pity with-
out regard to distress.
The system, then, is not one ot utditarianism. It has
no tendency towards it, and nothing could be more un-
founded than such a supposition. If, indeed, there be
vij two things more opposed to utilitarianism than la\»
APPENDIX. a4'J
and love, of which, in their true uaturc iuid relaliims lo
each> other, this system is simply ^i exposilioii, T dc
not know what they are.
But if the system be not iililitiirianism, is it not "cii-
daimonism, or the making of enjoyment the supreme
end of man and of virtue?" If we vvo\ilil cleiir lhi.s
subject up fully, we nmst under.staud eaoli other hero.
We must understand wlint is meant when it is ?ai(l
that there is some other good besides happiness.
Looking at man in his complex nature, — as physical,
intellectual, moral, spiritual, — we see that he is capa-
ble of various forms of activity from without aud
within, and that these are accompanied with certain
forms of feeling. Tiiis capacity of feeling is called the
Bensibility ; and the feeling may be one of pleasure or
pain, of joy or of sorrow. Now we need a word which
shall express unequivocally the whole range of feeling
as it gives satisfaction, pleasure, joy, happiness, blessed-
ness. Unfortunately we have no such word. Happi-
ness is often used, but in many minds its associations
are with the lower forms of enjoyment. Blessedness,
which is from the moral and spiritual powers, and c^n
be only as (hey act normally, will not do, because it
excludes the lower forms of enjoyment. Hence the
difficulty of finding any one word that will exi)ress the
whole end of man ; but that that end is in the sensibil-
ity, and so in it that without that the very conception
of an end would be impossible, I have no doubt. 'I'o
avoid ambiguity and put it in the broadest way, my
statement is, " that a sensibility is the condition pr.^ee-
dent of all moral ideas." Of course it must be the con-
dition of all moral action. Is this denied ? To deny
t would be to deny the universally received doctrine
of which my position is but an instance, that there if
tie action of the will except frcm tbi sci;sibiliiy. Dr
350 APPENDIX.
McCosh does, iudeed, attempt to deny it, but in doing
so lie makes a supposition that I marvel at; one indeed
that looks so much like an absurdity, that if it had been
made hy any one else, I am not quite sure but I might
have taken it for one. He puts "the case that God
creates au angelic being with high intellectual endow-
ments, but without sensibility," and then affirms, and
founds a principle on it, that such a being would be
under obligation to be grateful to God, while yet grati-
tude is a form of the sensibility, and obligation itself
cannot be conceived of without it. " Si naturam furca
expellas," etc. Let the advocates of an ultimate right
be explicit on this point. If they say there is any good
not from sensibility, let them tell us what it is. If not,
let them say so, and accept the consequences. So far
as I can see, no one can any more, except by a juggle
of words, deny that all good is from a sensibility than
he can deny his personal identity.
The view presented above is said by Dr. McCosh to
be a " very peculiar theory." By others it is said to
be the view long held by a large class of writers. This
is of little consequence. In the materials of the system
there is nothing new. They are the same old ideas.
So the needle and thread were the same old materials.
But as a simple change in the manner of threading tlie
needle led to a wide range of new combinations and
revolutionized a whole branch of industry, so a sim-
ple adjustment or two here, with very little that is
new, may disentangle thought at this knotty point, and
change our whole mode of conceiving of this subject.
It remains to say something of the system held by
Dr. McCosh. Dr. McCosh agrees with me in accipiing
tlie law of love as given in the Scriptures ; and ul^u
obhgation as " self-affirmed." Wliat I venture to doubt
is, whether, in holding the system ho dcjes, he is consis-
tent with the Scriptures, or with himself.
APPENDIX. a61
Aiid here, as "vo urc iti s^.L-iik ol lu\c, 1 uiu^,! call
attention to two diflferent meanings, an "amijliiboly " of
that word. It may be a love of benevolence, as a man
may love his enemy, including good-will, or the willing
of good; oi' it may be a love of congruity, as a man
may love art or poetry, in wliicli there is no f;ooJ-wili.
The first is viituous love, the second is not. Tlitie
is no virtuous love that is not eiilier tlie willing of good
to some being capable of good, or that does not, like
the love of coniplacency, proceed directly or indirectly
from that.
With this in mind, and remembering that we are
seeking for ihu ultimate thing on which the mind rests
when obligation is affirmed, let us take the Law of Love
iis given in the Scriptures : " Tliou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thy-
self." Here God is presented to be loved for his own
jake, and there is nothing more ultimate, the idea of
good coming in simply as rendering love possible. Tin
love is to be a simple primitive act in view of tlie object
as worthy iif love. But Dr. McCosli is not satisfied
with tills, lie says, "'AVe irgard God as having a
claim upon oui' love because it is right, and men see it
to be so al onco." I venture to SHy that men do not
see it to be so at all. It may be true that men see at
once that tliey are under obligation to love God; it is
right that they should love him ; but it is not true that
they are under obligation to love him because it is
right, and of course they do not see that they are. I
Lave said that "No man is under obligation to do an
act morally right for wliich there is not a reason be-
tides its being right, and on the ground of which it is
right." In acc:ordance with this, the reason of our love
to God, its iliimate ground, is the worth and worthi-
ness of God, so that we do not love him because it is
352 Al'PENDlX.
right, tlie riyhtiiess being as Dr. McCosli allows, s
mere quality of our love, but because he is worthy of
oui- love. In the one case the last thing seen as the
ground of obligation is God in his worth as capable of
eood, and in his woi-thiness as seeking to promote it ;
in the other it is — light. This is an " ultimnte idea,"
absolutely ultimate, observe, with nothing beyond it ;
■' an end in itself, inferior to no other, subordinate to
no other." This puts right above God. We are to
love God, not for his sake, but for the sake of the
right; or, as was saiil to me recently, we are to love
God because we love virtue, as if the love of God were
not virtue. In the same way we are to love our fel-
low-men, not for their sakes, but for the sake of the
right. We are to love the right supremely, and to
lo\<e God because we love the right. Nor can it be
said that the love of God and of right are the same, for
good-will towards an " ultimate idea " is impossible. 1
have seen quite enough of this abstract, hard, godlcfs,
loveless love of right and virtue, instead of the love of
God and of men. It is nearly as bad on the one side
as utilitarianism is on the other ; and " whether " Dr
McCosh " means it or no, whether he sees it or no, this
is, in the end, the" uliimate right "principle." "This
is the logical consequence, and if not drawn by him it
will be drawn by others ; and the history of philosophy
and theology shows that what follows logically " (ex-
cept when men receive a system, as most men do tliis,
in words only) " will follow chronologically when the
ystem has had time to work and show its effects."
Accordingly, we find that wherever this system has
been fully received it has tended to fanaticism. No
man can adopt right as an liltimale end with no regard
to good — and if it be ultimate it must be so adopted
— without thif tendency ; nor can any man adopt sn
AI'PEXDIX. 353
ultimnte anr! supreme the Scriptunil Law of Love, the
very nature of love making the good of being its und,
and at the same time consistently adopt right as "au
ultimate end," " an end in ilself, superior to no other,
subordinate to no otiier.''
It is to be observed, also, thai the Scriptures nowhere
command men to do right because it is right, but that
their whole tenor is opposed to this form of teaching.
But if the theory held by Dr. McCosh be not con-
sistent with the Scriptures, can he liold it, and be con-
sistent with himself? I am not sure, indeed, whether
Dr. McCosh has not been led to adopt and retain the
system by the " amphiboly " of the cardinal words
which we are obliged to use on this subject, such as
"end,'! and "right," and "love," and "good." He
Bpeakg of right, and love, and obligation, and holiness,
as being ultimate ends. So far as appears, there may
be any number of tliese in his system ; nor does he
Bcem to recognize the necessity of a supreme end, or
the distinction insisted on by me, between ends as ulti-
mate and supreme.
Hut what does Dr. McCosh mean when he speaks
of these — of love, for example — as an end ? Love
is an act ; and we do not commonly speak of an act
as an end, but as done for some end. Anything purely
spoulaneous, as an emotion, that may be called love,
would have no moral character ; but if love be a ra-
tional and moral act, as most people suppose, then it
must have some object or end beyond itself, for it is
difficult to see how a rational action, involving the
choice of an end, can be its own end.
AVhat, again, does he mean when he speaks of right
IS an end ? What is right ? Is it, as some say, some-
hjng out of the mind, having an independent exist-
Buce, like space ? That Dr. McCosh denies. Is it tho
23
S54 Al'I'KNDlX,
quality of an action ? Most men thinii bo. But tht
moral quality of an action can exist only in view of
the fnd to be chosen, and therefore cannot be ihat eiul.
Is right, as I suppose it is, equivalent to the "recti-
tude " of the " Princeton Review " ? Tlien it is " ii
simple quality" — " ninlefinablc," "absolute," "eternal,'
"unchangeable" — having itself for its own standard ;
as high as God, for there can be " nothing iiighui,"
as pure as God, for there can be "nothing purer,'
aa authoritative as God, for llicre can be " nolldng
more authoritative." " It is nnderived," " ultimate,"
" supreme," " elementary,'' " uncompounded." Yes ; a
" simple quality " is elementary and uncompounded !
and yet it is not simple, for "it carries in itself the
idea of obligation." This same " simjjle quality" is,
moreover, " moral goodness," and " is the oiiginal
supreme excellence of God and all moral creatines."
AVhether this "simple quality" originally iidieied in
God's essence or iu his acts, we are not told, though we
should be glad to know. Probably in both, for we are
told that it is both "in man's soul, and in its acts." Is
it tliis "simple quality," thus simplified and made per-
fectly intelligible, the doctrine of which " may be called
the catbolio Christian doctrine of tlie ultiniaie moral
idea," that Dr. McCosh would make an end ? If so, I
have nothing to say ; for a simple quality capable of all
that is thus attributed to this, may doubtless become an
and, or, at least, I should be unwilling to say what it
may not become, whether an end or an elephant. Prob-
ably this is the very quality spoken of by the Teutonic
theosopher, quoted by Campbell, when lie annoui lea
..hat " all the voices of the celestial joyfulness qualify,
commix, and harmonize in the fire that was from eternitj
in the good quality."
Take again obligation, to which I have already re
APPJ-ajDix. 3o5
ferred. There may be obligation to choose an end, but
as I understand i(, obligation itself canf)ot be im end.
And yet Dr. MeCosh says that it is an " ultimate end,
inferior to no other." Obligation an ultimate end! And
one, too, not inferior to the good of God and liis uni-
verse ! There niust lurk here somewhere — and the
public must judge where — that "confusion of idea into
whicli," as Dr. McCosh says, -'we are apt to fall when
we speak or think of ultimate ideas or ends."
But again : take love in the two meanings explained
above, and the cctnfusions from it are endless. What
do the advocates of the ultimate right theory mean by
the love of right, and of the right ? A virtuous love ?
I suppose so. If a man is to do right because it is right,
which is what Dr. McCush would call virtue, it must be be-
cause he loves the right, elsi; there is a virtue without love,
which neither Dr. McCosh nor the Bible allow. But is
the love of right, or of tlie rii^lit, or of virtue, virtuous
love ? No ; because neither right nor virtue can be ob-
jects of good-will. There is no willing of good to them,
and so no more virtue in loving them than in loving
poetry, except as such love may imply a previous love
that did involve good-will.
But perhaps the most misleading ambiguity of all, is
that of '' good " as derived — sometimes from the sensi-
bility an^ meaning enjoyment, and sometimes from the
will and meaning goodness. Of this, however, I have
pcken so fully in the work reviewed, that I will not
dwell on it here.
On other points I should be glad to touch, particularly
those of cause and law. But enough has been said. For
the first time in my life I hav*- noticed what has been
»aid of my writings If I havt spoken plainly, it is not
in a spirit of controversy, for 1 have no little fort to de-
fend, but with a desire to aid Dr. McCosh in his evideji'
356 APPKNDIX.
purpose of awakeuLug a more general interest in this
great subject, and to add my mite toward the displace-
ment, sure to come, of a traditional philosophy based on
the inadequate and radically false method of construct-
ing a system of conduct on a purely abstract i<lea.
WiLUAHs College, May 1, 1869.
ANSWER TO REV. DR. HOPKINS.
BT JAMES JIcCOSH, D. D., LL. u.
Dr. HonciNs's letter is worthy of the man, in respect
both of the ability and llie kindly spirit displayed in it.
No evil can arise from a controversy so conducted. On
the contrary, I expect good to spring from it. It bears
on a question second to no other in philosophy, and it
admits of applications to the justice of God, the punish-
ment of sinners, and the atonement for sin.
But we, the controversialists, must, for our own sake
and that of our hearers, take care that we keep the point
at issue clearly before us. It is a very simple one :
What is the chief end of man ? Is it or is it not some
Ibrra of pleasure, happiness or enjoyment ?
AVith much that Dr. Hopkins has said I concur. I
agree with what he says as to the importance of looking
t.1 ends in determining what " good " is. This has been
done more or less by moralists since the days of Aristotle,
who begins his Nicomachean Ethics with an inquiry
into ends, and has been followed by the Stoics, and by
(Jicero in his treatise De Finihus. The question is, What
is the end and the supreme end of man? Again Dr.
Hopkins and I are agreed as to the manner in which this
question is to be settled ; that is, by an inquiry into oui
"npral nature — in the manner of Bishop Butler. The
APPENDIX. 357
luestioii here is, What saith our moral nature as to tha
final aim of man ? Dr. Hopkins's answer to the ques-
tion is stated clearly in a passage which I have quoted
before, and which I must quote again. What then is
tlie ultimate end according to our author? He says it
is "the good." But what is the gnod? He answers,
— "An objective good is aiij-thiug so correlated to a
conscious being as to produce subjective good. Subjec-
tive good is some form of enjoyment or satisfaction in
Ike consciousness." He tells us that " strictly tliere is
no good that is not* subjective." In his review in the
" Observer " he says there is ■' a difficulty of finding any
one word that will express tlie whole end of man ; but
that end is in the sensibility." " The capacity of feeling
is called the sensibility, and the feeling may be one of
pleasure or pain, of joy or of sorrow." This is the
point at which we come into collision. My remarks
will be confined to it.
We are agreed as to the way in which the point is to
be settled. It is by an appeal to our moral nature. To
that moral nature I appeal witli confidence, as decidiug
in my behalf. An intelligent being receives favors from
God; say lofty reason, fine fltncy, rich emotions, and a
capacity of distinguishing between right and wrong.
What is the affection which he should cherish toward
this his benefactor ? Our moral nature replies on the
instant, — gratitude and love. And we do not require
to consider whether this graiitiide adds to the enjoyment
of God or the etijoyinent of him who cherishes it. It
is the same with moral evil as with moral good. Ten
lepers are healed by our Lord. Nine of them give liim
tio thanks. In condemuing their conduct we do not stop
to inquire whether it is fitted to give pain to the sensi-
bility of the Saviour or their own. On the bare con-
templation ol he act we declare it to be evil. The act
B58 APPENDIX.
is not wicked because it grates on the sensibility of tha
Saviour, or is fitted to inflict sorrow on those guilty ol
it. On (he contrary, it offends our Lord and is fitted to
bring down judgments on tlie offending parties because
it is evil.
Dr. Hopkins is shut up to tliis conclusion by his own
statements. Enjoyment is represented by him as the
end of moral action. But wliat enjoyment? Enjoy-
ment as enjoyment ? Every kind of enjoyment? En-
joyment of passion, of sensual pleasure ? No, says Dr.
Hopkins; only enjo>'ment of a certain kind. He says
expressly that good does not consist in happiness but " a
holy happiness," " happiness from holiness," " it can
come only from holiness.'' Does not this show clearly
that in the moral end hoKness requires to be looked at
with the happiness ? Doi s it not prove that there is a
higher end than enjoyment, «nd to which enjoyment
must give way because enjoyment is the inferior ? With-
out contradiction, it is ihe less that yields to the greater,
and happiness, as the loiver, must give place when holi-
ness requires it. Holiness, then, and not mere happiness,
thus comes to be the higher, the supreme end.
It cannot be proven by an appeal to our moral na-
ture that sensibility is a necessary condition of virtue.
I acknowledge that it is presupposed in the exercise of
certain virtues. It is our duty, so far as within us lies,
to pi-omote the general happiness — this is the truth in
utilitarianism ; but it is a truth which embraces more
than mere sensibility — it embraces " duty " as well as
happiness. Again, it is true that one ground of our re-
garding God as good is, that he delights in the happiness
of his creatures ; another reason always being that he
delights in their holiness. All this shows that while
man should look to pleasure and pain, he should also
V>ofe to something higher. The brutes have no otheJ
APPENDIX. SoS;
und than enjoyment. But as nature rises — as Dr
Hojikius shows in one of the fine passages of his paper
— from lower to liigher, from inorganic to organic
from phint to animal, and from irresponsible animal bo
responsible, so (lie end of oauh being rises in the same
way; tlie end of the organic is higher than that of the
inorganic ; tlie end of man is liigher than that of the
brute. Moral and accountable man is bound, while he
does not overlook enjoyment, to look beyond to the law-
fulness or unlawfulness of the enjoyment as determined
by moral law. Moral good does not consist in any case
in the promotion of mere enjoyment, such as may be
accomplished by a fine piece of furniture, a fine flower,
or a fine animal, but by something difl^erent and higher,
by the love which knowingly contemplates and promotes
the enjoyment. Nor does it consist in every sort of love,
but in love that is due and right. As we mount up in
this way, we rise to the contemplation of a love, and a
holiness, and a justice above all gratification of the sen-
sibility. We clothe the Divine Being with these per-
fections, and we believe that in the exercise of them he
will regard the happiness of his creatures ; but that he
will also, and for a higher end, promote their love and
their holiness.
Dr. Hopkins is still perplexed with the difficulty, —
" The moral quality of an action can exist only in view o<
the end to be chosen, and, therefore, cannot be that end."
I endeavored to remove that difficulty in my review, and
1 must try to do it again in a few words. The difficulty
arises entirely from a misapprehension of the nature
of the first truths of the intellect, and of the ultimate
ends of our moral constitution. The reason of first truths
IB to be found, not in anything out of themselves, but
ui themselves and the objects contemplated. We are sure
' bat two straight lines cannot inclose a space, not becausr
860 APPENDIX.
we can give any reason for it out of ihe thing? and out
of ourselves, but because in contemplating two straight
lines, we see that they are such in their nature that they
cannot inclose a space. So it is with final moral ends —
ends iu themselves. When we love God in such a \\ay as
to constitute this a moral act, we see that there is an ob-
ligation in the very act ; and this not our own enjoyment,
or that of God, but because the act is right in itself.
He says, " If love be a rational and moral act, as most
people suppose, then it must have some object or end be-
yond itself, for it is difficult to see how a rational action,
involving the choice of an end, can be its own end."
But does not Dr. Hoiakius see that in affirming our own
existence and identity, which is a rational act, we have
reason not " beyond," but in the thing ? In like man-
ner, when ue love God, we are made to feel that this is
due to God. Dr. Hopkins acknowledges everywhere —
which tlie Utilitarians do not — the existence of moral
reason, deciding what ought to be done. His confusion
arises from his not giving that moral reason the right
place. He makes it, as I understand him, come aflcr
the end, after the end has been chosen. The correct
statement is that the moral reason is implied in the very
choice of the virtuous end. He says, " The atfirmation
of obligation is no part of virtue." The abstract affir-
mation may not, but the intuitive concrete conviction
is. We love God, not as being a mere sensitive en-
joyment to ourselves, or as adding to the enjoyment of
God, but as fit, proper, and due. Dr. Hopkins li;is
hit the truth for once, when he says, '' The love is
to be a simple primitive act iu view of the object as
worthy of love." This seems to me to bo the correct
uipression. " The love is a primitive act in view of the
abject ; " he adds, "as worthy of love ;" and I say, tlia
worthiness is proclaimed by the moral reason " in view
APPENBIX. 361
>f the object," and has a place in the motive leading
as to perform the act. This is the element which dis-
tinguishes a virtuous love from other love which may
not be virtuous, which may be positively sinful.
I am surprised to find Dr. Hopkins saying that " the
Scriptures nowhere command men to do right because it
is right, but that their whole tenor is opposed to tliis
form of teaching." Does not Paul say (Eph. vi. 1),
" Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this h
right" — just, due ? And is not the whole tenor of
Scripture on this wise : " Love God, obey his command-
ments, for this is right ? "
The question at issue lias many applications. John
Foster, in a well-known letter, proceeding on the doo
trine that it is the highest end of God and man to pro-
mote happiness, argues with immense power that there
cannot be eternal punishment under the government of
God. I am obliged to say that if I grant his premises,
1 cannot avoid his conclusion. I can stand up for etei-nal
separation of the wicked from God only on the principle
that ingratitude, that ungodliness, are sins in themselves,
and ought to be punished.
I have not before me the means of ascertaining Dr.
Hopkins's view of the nature of the atonement. 1 hold
that in the Divine nature thei'e is an essential justice
which leads Him not only to promote enjoyment, but
punish sin. I hold that the atonement has a reference
not merely to the general happiness of mankind, but the
holy perfections of God, and that Christ's sufferings were
a real substitution and a satisfaction to Divine justice.
It is only thus I can understand the strong language
employed everywhere in Scripture about Jesus suffering
and dying in our room and stead. I mention these things
merely to show that this discussion has extensive bear-
ings, but I believe it would weary the readers of a popU'
lar newspaper to dwell on it.
;G2 ArpENDix.
And so I must concludo by saying that 1 do not be-
lieve that Dr. Hopkins has been able to build a half-
way house, likely to stand, between the two contending
armies. Our author has evidently a great aversion to
utilitarianism. But if tlie end of virtue be enjoyment,
everything must be subordinate to it, ami we aio landed
logically, whether we see it or no, in tlje greatest hap-
piness theory. We can avoid tliis only by falling back
on that moral reason which Dr. Hopkins acknowledges,
and by giving it, which Dr. Hopkins does not, a place in
determining the supreme end, which we will then see,
not to be mere happiness, but holiness.
Pbisceton, JuTie 14, 1869.
DR. HOPKINS'S REJOINDER TO DR. McCOSH.
The subject of discussion between Dr. McCosh and
myself not being of transient interest, 1 liave not been
in haste to reply to liis second paper. I do it now, not
as thinking my positions endangered, bnt in the interest
of a subject too much neglected. Literally and figura-
tively, deep ploughing is good husbandry. Only as the
community shall be pervaded by a deeper knowledge of
nature, and especially of man, can the best fruits of liv-
ing be expected.
" The point at issue," says Dr. McCosh, " is a very
simple one — What is the chief end of man ? " 1 had
supposed it to be. What is the foundation of obliga-
tion ? but accept this, since he prefers it. I am indeed
pleased that he is so far a convert to the doctrine of
ends as to be willing to substitute an end to be chosen
for the abstract idea of right. Regarding man only as
ictive, the science of morals requires this ; but it wLli
be fatal to his system.
APPENDIX. 363
But, simple or not in the point it makes, the above
question underlies practical philosophy. This is coming
to be more and more recognized. The difficulty with
the French was said by Joiiffroy to be that they did not
know what the end of man is ; and in the last number
of the "North Briiish Review" (here is an article Lav-
ing this for its title and subject, in which it is said thiit
''The theoretical solution of this question woultl be tlie
answer to a fundamental problem in ethics ; its practi-
cal realization would be the ideal of a perfect life."
What the end of man is, Dr. McCosh says, is to be
settled " by an inquiry into our moral nature, in tho
manner of Bishop Butler. Tiie question here is, What
saith our moral natin-e as to the final aim of man ?" In
this I regret not to agree with Dr. McCosh, especially
as he says I do. As rational, we have the power to
overlook and cotnprehend our whole being as we would
a locomotive, and I suppose the question must be de-
cided by our doing this. It mu-t, if it is to be decided
by philosophy at all. This is not to be done by the
moral nature alone. On the contrary, that nature is to
be compared with the other parts of our complex being,
the proper functions and relations of each are to be de-
termined, and thus the end of tlie whole. This was " the
manner of Bishop Butler." Making this comparison,
he says, as quoted in " The Lnw of Love," " It may
be allowed, without any prejudice to the cause of virtue
and religion, that our ideas of liappiness and misery
are, of all our ideas, the nearest and most important
to us ; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought
to prevail over those of order, and beauty, and harmony,
and proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossi-
ble there ever should be, any inconsistence between
them." Here we have the highest English authority in
morals not only making the comparison T advocate, but
B64 APPFNnix.
afRrming that our ideas of happiness and misert/ are
nearer and more important to us than any others, and ho
than that of holiness itself, which Dr. McCosh makes
Bupreme. Butler, however, and 1 agree with him, dot's
not, like Dr. McCosh, — who says that " happiness rauPt
give place where holiness requires it," — allow that there
can be an " inconsistence " between holiness and happi-
ness. He believed in a deep harmony of the constitu-
tion, insuring tlie harmony of the two ; and that harmony
is in the fact that " a sensibility," and so the possible en-
joyment and suffering of some being, "is the condition
precedent of all moral ido'as."
Nor, I may remark here, is Butler alone among those
of the intuitional school in his estimate of happiness in
its relation to virtue. Whewell, who has stood shoulder
to shoulder with Dr. McCosh in opposing Mill, says,
" Happiness is the object of human action in its most
general form as including all other objects, and approved
oy reason." Edwards says,^ " Agreeable to this the ffood
of men is spoken of as an ultimate end of the virtue of
the moral world;" and quotes Scripture to prove it.
And Robert Hall himself, in opposing Edwards, says,
" Let it be remembered we have no dispute respecting
what is the ultimate end of virtue, which is allowed
on both sides to be the greatest sum of happiness in the
universe."
But, authority aside, if we compare the different con-
stituents of our being, we find that the end of the intel-
lect is to know ; of the sensibility, to feel ; and of the
will, to choose and act. As rational, we can feel only
as we know, and can choose and act only as ends are
presented through the sensibility. If we suppose the
Bensibility excluded, the conception even of an end ip
impossible. Aside from the products of this, nothing
Ban be a good, or have value. Except as we and otherj
I See 6tli page of C?o<f « Chief End.
APPENDIX :]G .
are pogsessed of this, neither love, nor hatred, nor oblige
tion, nor right, nor wrong, nor virlue, nor vice, is possi-
ble. Finding thus the end in the sensibility, so far at
least that without that there can be no end, I accept the
statement of the Westminster divines that " The chief
end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever." If
any inquire how this 's to be done, I reply that it is to
be done by knowing, loving, and obeying Gnd. This is
the whole of religion, and the whole duty of man. It
may all be comprised in loving God, since to be loved,
he must be known ; and if loved, he will be obeyed.
This brings into requisition the intellect, the sensibility,
and the will ; and from the right action of these, with
God for their object, there must be an enjoyment of
him forever. Anything involving this I accept, and
nothing short ot it. I cannot, I do not wish to exclude
from my conception of the end of man that " fullness of
joy " which is in the presence of God, and those '' pleas-
ures which are at his right hand forevermore." But
while I accept the above statement, perhaps a plainer
one may be, that the chief end of man is " to promote
blessedness impartially and in the highest degree."
Blessedness, then, is the supreme end — the blessedness
of God and of his rational universe ; and that form of
activity by which this is chosen and voluntarily caused,
is holiness.
Having thus stated my views positively, and I hope
clearly, in this aspect of the subject, I proceed to some
positions of Dr. McCosh in his second letter to which I
do not assent.
The first in logical order is, that there may be vir-
tue without sensibility. Strange as it may seem. Dr.
McCosh reafBrms this position. " It cannot," he says, " be
proven by an appeal to our moral nature " — and of
coarse he means that it cannot be proved at all — " that
806 AI'PENDIX.
feusibility is a necessiirj' condition of virtue." " I ao-
knowledge," he continue", " that it is presupposed iu the
exercise of certain virtues." Indeed ! Then have we
need of a new division of the virtues into those that can,
ami those that cannot exist without sensibility. And
this is said by Dr. McCosh while he allows that all vir-
tue may be included in love ! It would be interesting
to hear him give the constituents of a love that has ncj
sensibility. It would be interesting to hear him enu-
merate those virtues that presuppose no feeling, or
power of feeling, either in those who exercise them, or
those toward whom they are exercised. I would not
be too positive here ; but through what medium, or from
what angle, Dr. McCosh can be looking when he speaks
of such virtues, I cannot conjecture. For myself, I am
free to say that I have no conception of any such virtue,
and must venture humbly to question wliether any one
else either has or can have.
The second position of Dr. McCosh that I would call
in question is, that " holiness is the supreme eud." As
stated above, holiness is that form of voluntary activiiy
ay which blessedness is chosen and intentionally caused.
The objection to making this the supreme end is, that it
makes the activity its own eud. If holiness be the su-
preme end, and holiness or virtue consists iu choosing
the supreme end, then holiness must consist in ehoosiug
holiness. This difBculty must always arise when any
form of activity of tlie will, and so of virtue, is made ilie
ultimate end. Rational activity can never be for tin;
Bake of the activity itself, but nmst always be for the
sake of some result of the activiiy; for some good, satis-
faction, enjoyment, blessedness, — either of the being
acting, or of some other being. The activity is virtue
the result is blessedness. The virtue is from the will
the blessedness from the sensibility.
APPENDIX. 367
Another position from whijh I dissent, if iudeed it bo
mother, is, that the monil ciiiality of an iiction can be its
end ; or that the quality of an nc'ion may be the ground
of obligation to do that action. It is said in the " T/hw
of Love " to be plain that tliis cannot be. Dr. McCosh
and others say it is plain it can be ; and it is in conceiv-
ing how it can be, that llie diffi.'uliy arises with whicl
" Di'. Hopkins is still perplexed," and I fear always
will be.
Hut how is this in other cases ? Can the bi'avery or
tlie generosity of an act be the reason for doing it ?
Yes, if it be done ostentatiously ; but no true man ever
did a brave act because it was brave, or a generous act
because it was generous. But for an underlying sensi-
bility, the idea of bravery would be impossible ; and if
the exposure to dangci', in wliich the bravery consists,
were not for an end beyond tlie exposure itself, it would
be mere ostentation and fool-hardiness. It is the same
with generosity. Hotli are praiseworthy and pleasing,
and men may be so exhorted to culiivate them for their
own sakes as to think them ultimate ; but the qualities
themselves are possible only on the ground of interests
lying beyond themselves, and can never be the cliiei
legitimate motive for those actions in which they inhere.
But if right and holiness be allowed to be the qualities
of actions, no reason is seen why the same is not true
of them. A man loves his enemy. This he does, not
from any worthiness in him, but because of his worth as
having capacity for good. In view of this he subdues
his resentment, and makes sacrifices for the good of his
enemy as he would for his own. This is a riglit and
holy act. Is it done because it is so, or does it become
10 from the end for wh'oh it is done ? The ((uestions
answer themselves.
Dr. McCosh says my difficulty ' aris^ eutirely fro^i
868 APPENDIX.
* misappiehension of the nature of ilie firht truths of tha
intellect, and of the ultimate ends of the moral constitu-
tion." " Tiie reason of first truths," he adds, "is to be
found, not in anything out of themselves, but in them-
selves and the objects contemplated." " Does not Dr.
Hopkins," he asks triumphantly, " see that in affirming
our own existence and identity, which is a rational act,
we have the reason, not beyond, but in the thing ? "
Yes ; and admitting the parallelism here assumed, does
Qot Dr. McCosh see that it makes against him ? The
reason for affirming the truth is not in the act affirm-
ing it, or in any quality of the act, but " in the objects
contemplated ; " it should follow, therefore, that the rea-
son for choosing an end is found, not in the act of choos-
ing, or in any quality of the act, but in the end ; and
that is just what I say. But I do not admit the paral-
lelism. It seems to me that the processes of the mind,
in dealing with first truths where there is no choice, and
with ends where there is, are wholly different. With
what he says of first truths I agree ; but tlie moment
he pusses lo i-nds, I seem to find confusion both in
the thought and in the language. " So," he says, " it is
with final moral ends — ends in themselves. When we
love God in such a way as to constitute this a moral act,
we see that thei'c is an obligation in the very act ; and
that not our own enjoyment, or that of Gud, but because
it is right in itself." Concerning this extraordinary
passage, whicli contains the gist of what he says, I in-
quire, 1st. Whether any " final " end be not an end in
itself, whether moral or not? 2d. Whether a " moral"
end means anything more than an end that we are
under obligation to choose? 3d. Whether it be pof-
sible to lovt God so that it shall not be a moral act ?
And 4th, Whether Dr. McCosh means to say that w»
io not see that there is an obligation to love God before
APPENDIX. 369
we love him ? His language implies this. He sajg,
" WTien we love him, wo see (hat there is an obligation
in the very act." If it be " in the very act," it could not
exist before that, and so a miiii who had never loved
God could be under no obligation to love him. This
consequence must follow every attempt to make, as Dr.
McCosh does, obligation, or the sense of it, a part of
virtue. Tlie obligation is " not our own enjoyment, or
that of God ; " but it may be affirmed in view of the
capacity of God and of other beings for enjoyment, and
not because " it is right in itself," aside from all relation
to enjoyment ; and this I suppose to be the truth. I
suppose the moral reason afljruis obligation to choose,
not goodness, but good as good in itself This, I sup-
pose, is ultimate, and that a reason for every right act
may be found in its relation to thn ultimate good.
And here I must notice a misapprehension of Dr.
McCosh respecting the place assigned by me to the
moral reason. He says my "confusion arises from
making the moral reason come after the end, after the
end has been chosen." I not only do not do this, but it
never occurred to me as possible that any one should
As I understand it, the moral reason has n place in
determining the supreme end by affirming obligation to
choose it, but it is no part of the end ; nor is the ob-
ligation a part of the act or choice. The choice, the
love, 1 make " to be a simple primitive act in view of
the object as worthy of love.'' In this, Dr. McCosh is
80 obliging as to say that I have "hit the truth for
>nce ; " and yet lie says that " the intuitive, concrete
conviciiou of obligation " is a part of the love, thus mak-
ing it complex. Certainly I recognize the love as " fit,
proper, and due ; " but I also say that the love itself is
mpossible, except through a capacity for enjoyment.
'; his makes " a sensibility th'j co»dition precedent of sH
2i
iTO APPENDIX.
moral ideas," and is fatal to the theory of an eternal
right, or that anything is riglit in itself apart from all
relation to enjoyment.
On the Scriptural question, I have only to repeat
what I have already said. The passage quoted by Dr.
McCosh is the only one in the Bible tliat seems to say
I hat we are " to do right because it is riyht ;" but that
loL'S not say it, and scarcely seems to. If it said that,
no further question could be asked. The theory of
morals would be settled. What it does say is, that
children should obey their parents because it is right,
and that leaves the question, Why is it right to obey
parents? where it was before. I " am surprised" that Dr.
McCosh should think this n text in point. It is, indeed,
worthy of notice how little is said of " right " in the
New Testament. The word is used but thirteen times
in all, and only ten times as an adjective. Of these, the
word StWioi', translated right in the passage quoted,
is used but five times ; the proper meaning of it is not
right, as that term is used in this discussion, but just ;
and in no other case can it be tortured into a support of
the theory of Dr. McCosli.
Of " the whole tenor of the Scripture" on this point,
am content that any one should judge, as between Dr.
McCosh and myself, who has not a theory lo support.
Our Saviour opened the Sermon on the Mount, and
every beatitude, by speaking of blessedness. In the
same connection, he spoke of the " great reward in
heaven." The general doctrine of the Scriptures is,
that men shall be rewarded according to their works.
1 he " good and faithful servant " is to enter into the
joy of his Lord. The righteous are to inherit eternal
life, and tlie wicked to go into •' everlasting punishment.
It wa.s for the "joy that was set before Him that tb»
Saviour himself endured the cross, despising the shame.'
APPENDIX. 37 1
Dr. MoCosh refers to the theological bearings of th«
point in question. Those I might discuss if there were
ipace and a call for it ; but there is neither. Let the
question be decided on its merits. Tliat is the only fair
way ; and to aid our readers in doing that has been my
endeavor in the preceding discussion.
Mark Hopkins.
WlUJAMS COLLEGK, Jtlly 24, 1869.
DR. MoCOSH'S SUMMATION
or THB CONTROVERST BETWEEN HIM AND DR. HOPKINS.
The discussion between Dr. Hopkins and myself
must sooner or later come to an end, and I do not see
why it should not now close. I fear the readers of the
" Observer ' will complain if we protract it much longer.
Wo have both had an opportunity of stating our views,
and tlie public must judge for themselves. Intelligent
.•caders have already before them the means of coming
to a decision, and will not thank us for falling, as we
might be tempted to do, into miserable wrangling. 1
am in this paper to take up no new topic. I am simply
to sum up what I believe to be the substance of the dis-
pute.
(1.) Dr. Hopkins tells us, in language which cannot
be too often quoted, that the final end of man is " some
form of enjoyment or satisfaction in the cmisciousness."
"That end," he says, is "in the sensibility," and " the
capacity of feeling is called the sensibility, iuid the feel-
mg may be one of pleasure or pair, of joy or of sorrow."
He says in his last paper, " If we suppose tlie sen-ibility
pscluded, the conception even of an ejul is impossible.'
Vow this is the point which I conliuvert. 1 maintain thai
572 Al'PENDIX.
we ought to look to someihing liigher, and that all trulj
good action ha'' i\ higher reference. I have to complaiD
that in explaining and defending his peculiar theory
Dr. Hopliins changes " form of enjoyment " and " sen-
sibiliiy " into "good "and "blessedness." In ihia way
1 believe he deceives himself, and would hide from
others the sensational chnracter of his system. If by
"good " is meant " moral good," I agree with him; but
then it is a departnre from his fundamental principle, —
that man's end is some form of enjoyment. He is able
to give his theory a plaubible appearance and a lofty
moral tone only by passing from the one to the other.
If we substitute for " the good," wherever it occurs, " the
feeling of pleasure and pain," we see how bare and
earthly the system is. In his last paper, he tells us that
" blessedness is the supreme end." This sounds well,
and if it be properly explained, the view is correct. But
the "blessedness" uhich has thus come in surrepti-
tiously in the defense of his theory is not the same as
" the enjoyment " of his primary principle. There may
bo an " enjoyment in consciousness " which is not blessed-
ness ; and there is a blessedness which is not enjoyment,
as when a nian suffers pain and reproach in a good
jause. He speaks of the supreme end being " blessed-
ness, the blessedness of God and of his rational uni-
yerse." Substitute for " bles'edness " " sensitive enjoy-
ment," the sensitive enjoyment of God, and the doctrine
iars upon us offensively. Surely the supreme end of
man is not to promote the enjoyment of God. I insist,
'hen, that he stick to the one or other, ei:her the enjoy-
ment or the blessedness. If he adhere to the enjoy-
ment, his theory becomes the utilitarianism whicli he
pepudiates. If he insist on bringing in blessedness, he
nas introduced, whether he sees it or no, a new and far
her element, and is driven, logically, to a very differeD
APPENDIX. 373
theory. Whichever horn lie takes, he is in difficulties
in this middle posilioii which he lias cho-eii to occupy.
Wlien our Lord says, " Blessed are they who mourn,"
he includes vastly move than mere sensitive enjoyment.
If Dr. Hopkins means by " blessedness " a " holy enjoy-
ment," I believe that this is a supremo end ; but it is so
because holiness is a constituent.
(2.) I am sorry lo find that he and I do not agree, iia
I thought at one time that we did, as to the w:iy of set-
tling the question between us. As a question of menial
philosophy, I presumed that it was to be determined by
Ru inquiry into our menial and moral nature. It turns
out that Dr. Hopkins does not admit this. I am not
sure what is the way in which he would settle it. He
Bays, " As rational, we have the power to overlook and
comprehend our whole being as we would a locomotive,
and I suppose the question must be decided by our do-
ing this." I accept his illustiation. We deleimine the
end of a locomotive by looking at its structuiu and its
relation to other things in the uses to which it is turned.
It is thus we are to determine the end of man's existence,
as a question in philosophy. We look at man's nature,
especially his higher nature, his moral nature, his moral
reason, or conscience ; and we find it to dt-clare that
there is something higher than men: enjoyment, and to
which enjoyment shonld be subordinated, if the two
covae in collision. I am sorry to find him, in his last
paper, falling into the omission of Professor Bain, and of
the sensational and utilitarian scliool genc-rally, and rep
wsenting the original constituents of man's end to bo
intellect to know, sensibility to feel, and will to choose
and act." In iloing so, he has left out as an independ-
ent element the Moral Power Moral Rciison, or Cou-
«ieiice, which, looking to an action, declares it to bo
good or evil, to be diosen and done as being good, or to
37 1 APPENDIX.
be avoided as being evil. This moral power in man
declares, if we listen to it, that tliere is a higher eud
than the mere securing or promoting of enjoyment, and
that tliis is nn end which man should set before him. I
am amazed to find liim declaring that, apart from sensi-
bility, " the conception of an end is impossible." The
Rloral Faculty points to a higher end, and it is easy to
form a conception of it. I hold, then, that our moral
nature settles the question in my favor, and I do not al
low a loose appeal to any supposed " rational " or " over-
looking " or " comprehending " power capable of deter-
mining the question without looking at the decisions of
conscience.
(3.) He gives a place to the Moral Reason, but it is
not, I think, the proper place — it is a confused place.
He tells us that " Moral Reason has a place in deter-
mining the supreme end by affirming the obligation to
choose it, but is no part in the end." In discussing this
subject, he puts a number of questions to nie which I
could easily answer, but the questions and the answers
would only conduct us into a miserable chop-logic no
way fitted to lead to a solution. Whenever the Moi'al
Reason looks at a moral act, — say justice, or love to
God, or love to man, — it declares it to be binding. It
declares it to be so beforehand and behindhand, as Dr.
Hopkins seems to admit. But I go a step furtlier, and
ftfllrm that the moral power declares llie act to be good
«t the very time we do it ; that is, cherish ihe aK'ect.'ou,
or do the deed that is virtuous. I hold that not only be-
"ore we love God and after we love God, but when we
love God, we see that there is obligation in the act
This makes the sense of duty to enter into the virtuons
act and to become part of tlie end. This does not make
the act complex, any more than water is coinplei', as
oontaiuing two elements — oxygen and hydrogen; anj
APPENDIX. ;i75
More than any other actual stale of the mind is com-
plex — all operations of the mind being concrete. Upon
ray statement that when we love Gorl, we see that there
is an obligation in the vin-y act, lie comments in a way
scarcely worthy of him : " If it be in the very act, it
could not t'xist bufore that, and so a man who had never
loved God, could be under no obligation to love him."
Surely a thing may be in the act, and yet exist before
the act. The truth is, that if the obligation did not
already exist, man could not see it by ihe Moral Reason.
As the obligation exists, the Moral Reason may per-
ceive it beforehand and behindhand, but also in the very
act.
(4.) On another important point we difiFer. He de-
nies, and I affirm, that the quality of an action may be
the ground of an obligation to do that action. When I
affirm this, I do not mean that an abstrciclion is the-
ground of obligation, but that the concrete action is good
as possessing that quality — that is, is done because it
is right. This. I think, can eas-ily be decided. I am
tfiupted, let nie suppose, to tell a lie, to say that I did
not commit an act which I did commit. But in looking
nt and considering the act thus suggested, I see that it is
evil iu itself, and I decline doing it. It is clear to me
that in such a case we are led to refuse to do the deed
because of the sinful quality of the act, and not because
we look to some form of enjoyment. It is the same
with injustice, with ingratitude, and other sins. I avoid
them, or should avoid them, not simply because they
may deprive me or others of enjoyment, but because they
are inherently evil. It is in the same \vay that we are
led, or should be led, to do a good act, say to cherish
gratitude or godliness: we see tlie essential excellence
nf the affections. Even in love the same element enters
yheu the feeling >-ises to the rank of a virtue ; for all
37G APPENDIX.
love is not virtuous. We have to distinguish between
n holy love and an unholy; and a holy love, .«ay love
to Gofl or love to man, is cherished as being right
proper, due, and not from siny enjoyment to be thus de
rivi'd by G<id oi' by ourselves.
(5.) I allow that in many virtues, pleasure and pain
enttr into our view. We are bound as much as within
lis lies to promote the happiness of all beings capnble of
|oy or of sorrow. But even here, let it be observed, a
moral element entei's : we are bound to do this. All
our higher moralists maintain that justice, wliich looks to
what is right in itself, is a virtue quite as much as be-
nevolence is. Dr. Hopkins argues tliat in loving God
we do so " ill the view of the capacity of God and otlier
beings for enjoyment." I am not prepared to uphold
6uch a statement ; for my moral nature, as interpreted by
my consciousness, does not seem to me to sanction it.
We love God as being our Creator and Benefactor, and
as posses?ed of all perfection.
I am not to enter on new subjects, and so will not
review the ftatement which he gives of the doctrines
of certain philosophers. It could easily be shown that
neither Butler nor Edwards lend any sanction to the
very peculiar etliical theory of Dr. Hopkins. I need to
touch only on one other point.
(6.) The Bible happily is not a metaphysical work,
and I am not very willing to use its simple statements
to settle philosophic questions. But it seems to me that
the Word of God, in its spirit and its letter, opposes that
theory which makes man's highest end to be enjoyment.
Everywhere God is represented as a Being of whoso
:"haracter holiness is as essential an attribute as even
Dcnevolence. Sin is spoken of as an evil in itself, and
requiring atonement to be made for it. We are taught
-o do this, and avoid that, not merely that we n^aj
APPENDIX. 377
avoid sensitive pahi, ;uicl gain scusitive enjoyment, but
because God has (.'ominaridorl it, siiid because wc are
bound to obey God. Onr chief end is to glorify Gml,
and in this, and under this, enjoy Him forarer.
I began tliis discussion with a profound veneration
for tiie character and :iliiliiics of Dr. Hopkins, and I
close it with the siiiue sentiment.
Pkuciton, N. J., Sept. 13, 1869.
REV. DR. HOPKINS'S CONCLUSION.
Dr. McCosii thinks it time the discussion between
him and myself should close. I agree with him. He
says, " We have botli had an opportunity of stating our
views," and that " intelligent readers have already be-
fore them the means of coming to a decision.'' So I
thought, and wus content. Hence anything furtiier,
and especially a rediscussion of tlio whole matter in
the foim of a snuiniing up, was unexpected by me.
Under tliesc circumstiinces it is with reluctance that
I say a word more ; but from his fame and position
the words of Dr. ]\IcCosh fall with weight, iind I am
unwilling that some statements and representations in
his last paper should pass without notice.
On the first point taken up by Dr. McCosli, I am
happy to say tliat, in my opinion, we are more nearly
agreed than he seems to suppose. I cannot but think
that much of our seeming d'-frerence arises from the
different meaning we give to the word " sensibih'ty,"
»nd hence to "blessedness." Ry the sensibility, I
mean, iu common, as I suupose, "ith philosophers gen-
erally, the capacity of feeling in its whole range, as re-
vealed, not only through the activity of the senses, but
878 APPEin>ix.
of every menttil and moral power; and did not suspect
the possibility of my being supjiosed to mean anything
else. According to this, blessedness would be a form
of enjoyment, and, except in and through the sensibil-
ity, would be impossible. Hut Dr. McCosh cannot
moan this, for he saj-s '■ tlicre is a blessedness which
is not enjoyment," and calls on me to " stick to the one
or the othei-." He says that if I adhere to enjoj'ment,
my theory becomes utilitarianism ; if 1 insist on bring-
ing in blessedne.=s, I introduce a new element, whether
I see it or not : and so he makes two horns of n dilem-
ma where I see no horn at all. He says tliat the end
of man is not in the sensibility, and yet says that
" blessedness,'' " properly explained," " is the suj)reme
end." He says that "holy enjoyment is a supreme
end," — that is, the supreme end, for there can be but
one. But this is precisely what I have said from the
beginning,! and whoever says this, explain it as he
may, must agree with me snbstantia'ly in my whole
theory, " whether he sees it or not." I congratulate
Dr. McCosh, or rather myself, on his coming to this
lesult ; but what meaning he can attach to the word
" sensibility " hi his process of doing so, is inscrutable
to me. With the above meaning, I still say that '' if
we suppose the sensibility excluded, the conception even,
of an end is impossible ; " and T cannot but think that
my readers, and even Dr. McCosh will agree with me.
As I have said from the first, a being with no capac-
ty of feeling of any kind not only could form no con-
ception of an end, but would lack the very condition
that would enable lum to form moral ideas or to form-
ulate a moral law.
Under his second head, again, I think we should be
•ubstantially agreed but for the same difficulty. Dr
McCosh accepts my illustration of the mode in which
1 See Moral Science, lect. viii.
APPEKDIX. 3/y
die question betweeu a^i is to be settled. He says,
* We determine tlie end of a locomotive by looking at
its structure and its relation to other things in the uses
to which it is put. It is thus that we are to determine
the end of man's existence as a question of philosophy."
This is just what 1 say ; and also that it follows that
as we do not determine the end of n locomotive by
inquiring " what saith our moral nature," so neither do
we determine thus the end of man ; whereas Dr. Mc-
Cosh says, after saying what I have quoted above, that
the end of man is to be determined by his conscience.
As I think, we judge that the end of man is to be
gained by obeying his conscience by comparing that
faculty with others, but thMt judgment and comparison
are not the work of the faculty itself In this there
is a slight difference on another ground ; but now comes
that again from onr not nnderstanding alike " sensi-
bility " and its cognates. Dr. McCosh is " sori-y to
find me falling into ihe omission of Professor Bain, and
of the sensational and utilitarian school generally," — an
omission, by the way, fallen into by Ktint and Hamil-
lon and every distinguished intuitional philosopher who
has written since, — "and representing the original
constituents of man's end [being?] to be intellect to
know, sensibility to feel, ami will to choose and act."
In so doing, he says I have " left out, as an independent
element, the Moral Power, Moral Reason, or Con-
Bcience." He is '' amazed to find me declaring that
without a gensibility the conception of an end is impos-
sible.'' He holds that " ihe moral power in man de-
clares that there is a higher cud liian the mere securing
or procuring of enjoymen'," and that "it is easy to
form a conception of it." Here it is, in all this, that
ire feel the need of that inscutable meaning of the
irord " sensibility " of whict I have sjjoken. For with-
880 Ari'EXDix.
oat it what have we ? We Lave a part of man's na-
tur€(, and that (he highest, whicli neither consists, noi
18 employed, in knowing, or feeling, or willing ! What
else is possible ? We have an end without a sensibility,
easy to be conceiveil of, higher than any other, and yet
the pursuit of which would neither secure nor promote,
at least intentionally, the enjoyment of iinybody. I
atn curious to know what such an eiiil may be, espe-
cially in the view of one who holds that " the supreme
end is blessedness (properly explained) or holy enjoy-
ment"
Under his tliird head Dr. McCosh says that I " give
to Moral Reason a place, but a confused place." What
I say is, that moral reason recognizes moral quality,
and affirms obligation to choose ends. He, as I sup-
pose, says the same, and also makes this affirmation of
obligation, or sense of duty, a part of the end. lie
says, " This makes the sense of duty to enter into the
virtuous act and to become part of the end." I say
It enters into the act to give it quality, but not as a
part of the end. The end, I suppose, must be known
before the sense of duty can be originated. Whether
this more complex view gives moral reason a less "con-
fused place," I leave others to judge. Tliat a moral
act may be binding, both beforehand and at the time
when it is done, I agree fully with Dr. McCosh ; but
am not sure that I understand what is meant by it8
being binding "behindhand."
On the question under his fourth head, we seem to
be in direct opposition. Dr. McCosh affirms, and 1
deny, that the quality of an act can be the ground of
obligation to do that act ; and yet I am not sure that
•ve are looking at precisely the same point when we
JhuB affirm and deny. I agree that the quality ol an
ftct may be assigned as the reason for doing it. A nui^
APPENDIX. 381
aukj be exhorted to do a just act becauBe it ia jnst, oi
he may say he did it because it was so. This is con-
venient, and often sufficient, and language has accommo-
dated itself to it as it has to the apparent motion of
the heavens ; but it would lie mere trifling to assign
the fact of the justice of an Mct — ilmt is the quality of
justice in it — as the ground of the obligation to do
justice. We here setik wlmt is ultimate, the real na-
ture of things ; and what I sav, jind have said, is that
without an underlying ssnsibilily and its products in
the consciousness, the quality itself of justice could not
exist — that nothing could be either just or riglit. He
and his school say tiiat an action is right because it is
right, and that is the enil of it. I say that a reason
can always be given why an action is right, and that
witliout a sensibility, the quality of right in an action,
regarded as moral, could not exist.
Under his fifth head Dr. McCosh allows that " in
many virtues pleasure and pain enter into our view."
" We are bound," he says, " as mucli as in us lies, to
promote the happhiess of all beings capable of joy or
of sorrow. But even here, let it be observed, a moral
element enters : we are bound to do this." Of course
we are. Who ever thought oth'!r« isc ? I agree with
Dr. McCosh perfectly, that wlien b('inj,^s capable of joy
or of sorrow are in question, we are as much, or at
least nearly as much, bound to exert ourselves for them
as if they wei-e capable of no such thing. I agree
with him tliat justice is quite as niuih a virtue as be-
nevolence, only I do not think tliai "justice looks to
what is right in itself independently of benevolence, or
'hat it could exist without it. I tliiuk benevolence its
flndition, but no more think the idea of justice a part
>f that of benevolence than 1 do the idea of identity
a part of that of being I tlinli also that if God were
882 APPENDIX.
ii8 incapable of sensibility as a rock, and so incapable
of enjoyment, it wouW be impossible for us to love
Him with the love of benevolence, the only love com-
manded.
Respecting tlie Bible, Dr. McCosh says, under his
Bixtli head, tliat he is "not very willing to use its sim-
ple statements to settle |)liilos6pliic questions." I am.
Let the Bible state anytliing simply and explicitly, and
I have no philosophy to oppose to it. I said that the
Bible nowhere commands us to do riglit because it is
right. Dr. McCosh was surprised, and undertook to
show that it did, by quoting the only passage he could
find that seemed to say so, though it did not. He now
simply says that it seems lo liini "that the Word of
God in its spirit ami Icttei- oppo-es that theory which
makes man's highest end i<i lio enjoyment," quoting no
text, and implying, in the form of his statement, that
I hold that the end of man is his own enjoyment. I
have nowhere said that. What I say is, that the high-
est end of man is to cause blessedness " properly ex-
plained." In immediate connection, Dr. McCosh speaks
-){ sensitive pain and sensitive enjoyment as if they were
the basis of my system. I li-iist I have said nothing
to justify this. I am no sensationalist, but a believer
in the highest form of intuitional and spiritual philoso
pliy. I am no utilitarian. I believe in a good that
is good in itself, and to be sought for its own sake ;
and in disinterested love of beings who are capable of
happiness, quite as much, too, as if they were not. In
my two books, 1 have examined the constitution of
man in its relation both to nature and to the Bible. I
bave found from that, that the law of the constitution
ic the law of tlie Bibli;. That law — the Law of Lovt
■ 1 accept and endeavor to enforce — simply that. 1
' ijd no " lialf-way house." I bring in nothing " gijr
APPBiroa. 383
reptitionsly." T steal no element. I do not snLoidi-
Date virtue to happiness, but find a harmony between
them. I do not say as Dr. Lord, in his letter to the
graduates of Dartmouth, taking the representation of
Dr. McCosh, represents me as saying, that I am bound
to glorify God " because my faculties are adapted to
that duty, and in performing it my faculties will be in
harmony, and I bhall be happy." I simply find the
moral law — the one law for myself and for all others
— impersonal and impartial, and have as little to do
with this terrible enjoyment as is possible under a law
that requires me to promote it in its purest form and
in the highest degree.
But enough. All metaphysical points lie within a
narrow compass, and it is both amusing and annoying
to me to see what a fog of discussion, and often nimbus,
will gather around them. Those involved in this dis-
cussion seem to me simple and luminous. Most of the
difficulty in making them appear so to others arises
from the imperfection of language. This has seemed
to me so great, that for years I was deterred from
attempting anything. I saw so much on these subjects
of mere logomachy. This lias been a difficulty between
Dr. McCosh and myself. We evidently do not always
attach the same shade of meaning to the same word.
If we could do that, I am confident it would bring us
nearer together than we have seemed, for not only are
the intuitions of all men on these subjects alike, but he
and I belong to the same general school of thought,
and are substantially working together.
I close by reciprocating the kind expressions of re-
gard by Dr. JlcCosh. It was a great pleasure to me
to welcome him in this country. I rejoiced in the
Bclat with which he was received at Princeton, and in
Ihe favor and endowment which his coming brought
384 APPENDIX..
to that College. I trust the favor will continne, and
the endowment increase ; and can only say that if
another such man could be found who would come to
this College and bring equal favor and endowment, es-
pecially, just now, the endowment, I would resign
to-day.
WlUJAlU COLLIEGE, S^. WtA, 1869.
•^v^ Ti^fBijjTeeai